Better Holiday Memory by DSDragon

Setting: GGGoH

Author's Notes: The title kinda sucks, but it was the only thing I could come up with. The challenge said "a revelation or unexpected gift." They're not big, but I put one of each in this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the settings in this fanfic. I only own the idea. The rest belongs to Warner Brothers.

-----

Perry had given Lois and Clark a few extra days down in Smallville to let Clark recuperate from the Trask debacle (they had sent the story to him by fax already) and to have time with his parents for an early Thanksgiving celebration. Lois, who never turned down food as good as what she'd been fed for the last few days, accepted the invitation to stay when it was given.

Sitting at the kitchen table, she watched Mrs. Kent--er, Martha--putter around her, preparing a full turkey dinner. Well, "putter" was really the wrong word. Martha's gait and ease on her feet were really too vivacious to call them "puttering." *The woman must live on Energizer batteries,* Lois thought. *She just keeps going, and going . . .*

"You seem contented," Martha remarked, startling Lois out of her reverie. "Kind of like the cat that ate the canary, what with that grin you've got."

"Oh!" Lois gasped. "Um, I was just thinking, that's all."

"Really? What about?"

Thinking it would be rude to compare her hostess to the Energizer Bunny out loud, Lois improvised. "Actually, I was thinking how nice it is here. I mean, I wouldn't want to live here, but it's nice not to be mashed into a few city blocks with crowds of other people every once in a while."

"Huh," Martha said.

Perplexed, Lois asked, "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that, from what Clark's been telling us, and what I've seen so far, I was almost sure I had you pegged for the workaholic, never-leave-the-city-on-your-life type."

Caught, Lois blushed. "Well, yeah. But a girl can appreciate some time off; no matter how much she loves the work, can't she?"

"Absolutely."

Thinking it was time to change the subject, Lois asked, "So where are Cl--the boys?"

A twinkle in her eye as she turned back to the turkey in the oven, Martha answered, "Oh, they're around somewhere. Since this will be our only chance to have Thanksgiving with Clark this year, he and Jonathan decided to hang the Christmas decorations earlier than usual."

"What do you mean? Christmas isn't for another month and a half."

"We decorate on Thanksgiving," came the answer from the sink as Martha prepared some brussels sprouts for boiling.

"Why is that?" Lois asked. "I've never done much more than find a tree on Christmas Eve myself."

"Just a Kent family tradition, I guess. We don't take down any decorations until New Year's either."

"More than a month of Christmas?" Lois couldn't decide whether she was in awe or pure catatonia at the thought of all that . . . cheer. "How can you stand it? I can barely tolerate the decorations they put up at the Planet in the middle of December."

When Martha's answer did not come right away, Lois looked up. The older woman had a somewhat sad expression on her face. "Bad memories?" she asked.

Lois scrunched her head further onto her shoulders and rubbed her entwined fingers together on top of the table. "I don't really like to talk about it."

-----

Clark put the finishing touches on the staircase. He'd wrapped the rails in garland and white Christmas tree lights—for the next two months, his parents wouldn't have to worry about breaking their necks if they went downstairs for a midnight snack. And, hey, it was also festive!

Suddenly, his super hearing kicked in:

~"How can you stand it? I can barely tolerate the decorations they put up at the Planet in the middle of December."~

*Hmm,* Clark thought. *I wonder why Lois is so repulsed by Christmas decorations?* Shaking his head, he resolved to try not to eavesdrop anymore—and to help Lois enjoy the holidays.

But before he could turn off his hearing, he heard his mother's question. ~Bad Memories?~

Hoping it wasn't true, Clark's heart broke a little when his partner answered very quietly, ~I don't really like to talk about it.~

Desperate now to find a way to cheer Lois up about the season, Clark searched the room. He must have been staring in certain places, because his father was looking at him with a question in his eyes. Clark shook his head in a "not yet" gesture, then spotted exactly what he was looking for in a box balanced precariously on the back of the couch.

Going as fast as he could without alerting the kitchen's occupants (or rather one of the occupants) that he was super-speedy, Clark grabbed a bit of mistletoe, tacked it right outside the kitchen, and went back to his place by the stairs just as the door started to open.

-----

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Martha nodded, and turned back to her cooking just as a timer sounded. "Whoops! Looks like that's dinner. Want to help me get it all to the table?"

"Sure." Lois stood and took the dish of mashed potatoes toward the dining room. She carefully opened the door, and took only a step or two into the other room before Martha called, "Stop, Lois!" She stopped.

Looking back to the Kent matriarch, Lois asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," came the answer. "You're just standing under the mistletoe."

Lois looked up; sure enough, there was a tiny sprig of the dratted weed tacked to the ceiling just outside of the kitchen doorway. Her eyes widened--how the hell could she get out of this one?--"Oh."

Movements out of the corner of her eye made Lois turn her head. Clark was walking toward her. *He'd better not do what I think he's going to do,* Lois thought to herself in vain. Clark grabbed the potato dish from her nerveless fingers, gently set it on the table just to her right, and--quick and soft--put his lips on hers.

*Hey, where'd he go?* Her thoughts contradicted themselves as Clark pulled back with a smile.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Lois," he said as Lois mused to herself, *Maybe the holidays aren't so bad after all.*

I've been thinking . . .

That I might do NaNoWriMo this year. More on that later.

Saturday was the most fun I've had at RennFest in years. I didn't wear my garb, because it would've been much too hot, despite the rain--I was sweating from the humidity while trying to keep the rain off of my glasses with one or the other of my umbrellas. I hung out with Pippi, Ruth and Evil Dan, among others from the Haven, and went to a lot of shops I'd never noticed before. I bought a set of two tiny knives, a hand-crafted leather belt, and a pocket watch. I left the faire quite a bit poorer, but happy. Fun times.

And with a headache. By the time we got back to the Haven, my head was killing me. I pitched in for pizza--they were ordering--and then my dad called to say he was out and about, so did I want a ride home? I said sure, and about five minutes after the pizza got there, my dad got there too. So I was able to have a slice of pizza before I left.

Sunday, I played Guitar Hero with Kayla and Jason, and yesterday not much happened except my usual trip to the allergist for my shots.

Today's been pretty boring so far. I'm debating whether or not I want to go to the Haven. I think I probably will.

Anyway, about NaNoWriMo . . .

I've never done it before--never had the inclination to try, or the idea for a story. I don't really have an idea for a new story either, but I do have a fanfic that I've been trying to finish for at least two years now. So I'm thinking that, instead of the traditional 50,000 words, for NaNoWriMo (which I'm pretty sure I couldn't bang out in a month right now anyway), I'll probably impose a chapter count on that fanfic I've been writing, and make that my goal for the month of November.

I've been thinking I could bang out at least two chapters (maybe three) of PPKM in a month if I really cracked down and didn't let myself get distracted by all of the readable stuff out there. Goodness knows I haven't written a single sentence since I posted chapter six!

Book and School-Related Stuff

So, I decided at the beginning of the semester that I was going to write at least one article for the school newspaper per issue (or something like that--I was at least going to write for the paper). I contacted the person who used to be the advisor when I had my Journalism class a few years ago, who forwarded my message to the current advisor, who forwarded it to the paper's editor.

She was glad to get my message, since apparently she had been the entire newspaper staff last semester, all by herself.

Granted, with my schedule, I can't really do much in the way of hard news, and I'm terrible at that kind of reporting anyway. So, I offered to do some reviews--mostly book reviews, but I also thought about possibly attending concerts and such if they were free and I had the time.

Shannon (the editor) was enthusiastic at that idea, and told me that the deadline was this past Monday. So I wrote two reviews for the March Commuter (that's the name of the paper, The Commuter): one about The Chimes of Resdorn, and one about Temeraire. I thought of doing one about The Briar King, but it was the first book in the series, and I had just started the second, so I decided not to.

For the April Commuter, I will be writing a bit of a feature review about the works of Jane Austen (I've been meaning to read them for years, but never got around to it), which I will tentatively title, "A New Perspective on Classic Austen." I am not quite sure yet what subject I wish to pursue for the May Commuter, but I'm thinking of reviewing a few thrillers, or maybe branching off into horrror. I may even read some non-fiction, if I'm in the mood, instead.

I finished The Charnel Prince (sequel to The Briar King), and it left me wanting badly to read the next book, if there is one now. But alas, I don't have it, and if I'm to finish all six Austen novels before the Commuter's deadline near the end of March, I had to get cracking on those.

I've decided to read them from shortest to longest (as I do when I'm reading fanfiction at the Lois & Clark Fanfic Archive--because it's easiest unless there is a series). I'm just weird like that, I guess. So, this morning, I began reading Northanger Abbey, and I will persevere through until the end of Mansfield Park.

So far, I am on chapter thirteen, and it's quite interesting. I will not say more than that at this point, because I want to save most of my detailed observations for the article.

Once the semester is over, I will post each of the articles I have written for the Commuter here on the blog, in a new category, and those can serve as my literary recommendations to you.

PPKM Updated!

I've finally finished writing Chapter Six of The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication. My betas have had their turn as well, and the result is at the link below. Enjoy, and leave me feedback!

The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication: Chapter Six - Marriages and Mayhem

Another Strange Dream (or three)--Plus a Question

I had another strange dream last night (and the night before, but I couldn't remember it well enough to recount it). I don't know what's made me have such strange dreams so frequently lately. I mean, I've been getting more sleep in the last three nights than usual. Could that be it? I actually went to bed at eleven the last three nights! That never happens, since I consider my bed time between midnight and one in the morning.

Anyway, last night's dream:

I think I was a teacher or something (Yikes! I don't have any desire to be a teacher!) because I was chaperoning a bunch of kids on a field trip. And where, pray tell, was this field trip? Oh, only Jurassic Park. *rolls eyes at subconscious* I have no idea why my brain came up with that.

The first part I remember about the dream is that there were these little four-wheeler things that could hold four kids (or three kids plus me). We were being attacked by the T-Rex, but we got away and decided to get out of the little vehicles for a rest and some lunch.

Then, this Pterodactyl-thing (it didn't have feet, only wings and a body--and yes, I spelled that without looking it up!) came up, walking on its bottom wing-tips, and started to peck at everybody. So, we all scrambled back into the vehicles, and I told the kids to get to the main building as fast as they could.

We got there, then the next part of the "field trip" was this maze which was accessed through the main building. I think they were supposed to be hunting some of the dinosaurs or something, but (and this part is a bit disturbing) the kids ended up turning on each other! I managed to get all of my group out, but by the time the parents had come to pick everybody up, there were body parts strewn all through that maze. Why in the heck would my subconscious come up with something like that?!?

At this point, the dream changed. I dreamed that I was caught up in a storm. Or maybe, I was controlling the storm, because once the storm was over, I just walked around, then I walked back to the place that I'd started walking and I knew exactly which roads to take to get home from there--only I asked for a ride the rest of the way. During my travels though, I visited a lot of people, sometimes just in their yards, but sometimes I walked right into their houses unannounced. I even came upon a toddler's birthday party in a kitchen once.

The dream changed again, and this time, I knew exactly why I'd dreamed what I dreamed--because I was reading Lois & Clark fanfic and posting on the L&C Fanfic Message Boards before I went to sleep.

Clark Kent was missing Lois Lane for some reason. I was sitting there watching them as they talked. They were both very sad. Lois was committing herself, and Clark was begging her to stay and talk about the problem with him, because it was the same problem he had--their daughter had died in some sort of accident, and he hadn't been there in time to save her or something.

It was around then that I woke up.

Now, the question . . .

As some of you (or all, depending on how many/few people actually read this blog) know, I write fanfiction. I have it posted in various places, some here, some there, and some just sitting on my hard drive. For years, I've been meaning to make up a website where I can keep all of it and not worry about which fandom it's for. But I can never seem to keep up with the site updates well enough, so I just let those old sites die.

Anyway, my question is, would any of you actually be interested in reading my stories if I posted them here (with tags for the different fandoms/stories, and links on the side bar) so that I could keep them all together? Or would you prefer if I found some place else (not fanfiction.net) like maybe fanficauthors.net or some other high-quality multi-fandom fanfic site to post my stories, and then put a link in the side bar here?

Where did that come from? . . . It was kinda fun!

No, this is not a post about my Christmas. I haven't really figured out what to say about that--there really isn't that much to say anyway.

What this post is about, however, is a dream I had last night.

When it started, I was in this building. I think it was a combination of all the schools I'd ever gone to or something, 'cause it looked a lot like a school, only bigger. Then, when I went outside, I found myself at this really swanky outdoor party. There was a fountain and everything.

But the weird part is, there was also this huge parking lot with lots of expensive cars in it. Now that I think on it, that was weird too--I mean, why would anyone keep such expensive cars outside, instead of in a garage?

Anyway, this kid started bugging me, then ran away, so I was looking for him. Then all of a sudden this guy starts talking to me out of nowhere. I turn around, and the guy looks like Michael Keaton for some reason. And he's got this kid with him (different from the one I'd been looking for), around late teens, early twenties.

I gasp, and say something like, "Um, uh . . . Mr. Wayne!" because, apparently I was at Wayne Manor. The kid was probably one of the Robins, and I don't know why, but he called Bruce "Dad" in my presence, which was even weirder.

So Wayne says something about my car being towed (I had apparently left it sitting in the streets of Gotham), and asks if I want to drive to get it back, handing me this ring full of keys as he gets into one of the cars on the lot, a Porsche, or that's what he said. I don't know one expensive car from the other, so the cars in my dreams probably really weren't Porsches.

Then, he points to a car that goes with the key he'd stuck up for me in the ring . . . only I'd accidentally dropped the key ring and didn't see which car he'd pointed at. I did hear him and Robin saying something about "the 100" though, which didn't make any sense at all, but I guess it had something to do with the car he'd pointed out.

Anyway, "Robin" leads me to this car. It was supposed to be green, but looked more cream-colored to me, and I try the key which is the one I think Bruce handed to me. No dice.

I try another one, and the doors unlock. So me and the Robin guy get in the car, and follow Bruce Wayne in the red "Porsche" he'd gotten into around the parking lot a few times. I remember chuckling to myself and saying to the Robin guy (either in my head or out loud, I don't remember) that it would be funner if one of the cars was the Batmobile. We finally made our way to this really messed-up alley way with bricks laying around and the manhole open in the middle of the street and such.

There's this weird-lookin' bike there, and a couple of cars, but mine isn't there. So I get on the bike thing, and thank Mr. Wayne before . . . I wake up.

I don't know where that dream came from. The last time I had anything to do with anything even remotely Batman-related was a few days ago, when I read a couple of stories from LaraMoon's Lois & Clark fanfic series called, "Clark Kent is Batman . . . NOT!" And a week or two before that, I'd dubbed the original Batman movie from a home-recorded VHS to a DVD. But anything I'd been doing the past few days had been pretty much strictly Lois & Clark.

Strange.

Harry Potter and Other Manias *SPOILERS*

The rest of last week went pretty boringly. I had Friday off, and went to the doctor's office for an in-grown toenail (ouch!). It wasn't too bad, so she just told me to soak it with Epsom Salts and let it grow to normal length. We both agreed that surgery would be a last resort.

I spent most of Friday and Saturday at Mom & Dad's house. Friday, I was planning on seeing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix with the rest of the family if Dad would take us, but Jason was still at Scout Camp and it wouldn't have been fair to him. So I just hung out and helped Anna with her homework for her computer and English classes.

Saturday morning, Mom called me around 10:15 out of a sound sleep (I'd stayed up until four that morning, reading--hey! It was a three-day weekend!), begging me to drive Jason home from the Stake Center. So, I did that, then went back home and slept until about 1:30.

A little while later, I went back to Mom & Dad's and waited for Dad to get home. It took until about 6:30 for them to decide that they weren't going to see the movie that day--they were going to see it on Monday instead. I couldn't see the movie on Monday, because I had an appointment at my allergist's office as well as my shots after work and I didn't know when that would be finished. So, I took Jason to the movie on Saturday.

The movie was okay, I guess. It's possible I was just too drained from waiting almost two extra days, plus having to do all that thinking to help Anna with her homework and such, but the movie left me more amused than awed. There were a few exciting scenes (the ministry battle was not one of them!), but overall, the movie kind of fell flat to me.

Not only did they shorten and convolute the ministry battle, but they also left out a great huge portion of Harry's end-of-year chat with Dumbledore. I was so looking forward to seeing Harry trash Dumbledore's office too! That, coupled with the fact that they left out a great many things in the battle (the brains, the time turners, etc.) which I would have left in for excitement's sake, made the ending kind of "ho-hum."

Ginny, as a character, was also jipped--again. Her only lines were "Reducto!" and "Expecto Patronum!"

Dumbledore's battle with Voldemort was kind of stupid as well. All they showed was lightning flashing between the two wands and connecting--no transfiguration of anything (although a few things did get shattered into dust shortly before Voldemort possessed Harry), no pieces of the fountain protecting Harry.

I'll have to see it again, just in case my energy levels at the time could have effected my enjoyment of the flick.

Sunday I went over for dinner, as usual.

Yesterday I had my appointment, and it was nearly 7:30 before I got home, so I stopped at Roy Roger's on the way and got a grilled chicken sandwich with a side salad and a vanilla shake--YUM!

The hymnal I'd ordered from DeseretBook over the weekend arrived last night as well, but it was late before I was finished beta-reading a Lois & Clark fanfic for a friend. So, I went to Wal-Mart to get a headphone adapter jack so that I could still practice on the keyboard without waking up the girls.

I practiced until 10:45, then took a shower and went to sleep.

FoLC Map!

2 down, 48 to go . . .

I finally finished Anna Karenina yesterday, around 3pm. WHEW!

The reason it took me so long to read it (two months, the longest it's ever taken me to read anything except The Book of Mormon--including the 2 weeks it took for Little Women) is because I sort of had to psyche myself up to read it every time I wanted to sit down and do it.

See, the whole book is set in 19th century Russia, and is about people in the Russian aristocracy. The customs, clothing, cities, and even the characters' thoughts were all strange to me, so to understand even a little bit of it, I had to concentrate really hard on what I was reading. So, I couldn't really read before bed or anything like that--I had to be mentally awake. That severely cut down the amount of time I could read, and I couldn't read more than 9 or 10 chapters at a time for the same reason--it all just started to run together after a while.

I posted a review of the book at LibraryThing which is more of a rant than a real review, but read it if you like.

I've got 48 books left now, to reach the 50-book challenge posted a couple months ago on the Lois & Clark Fanfic Message Board. So, yesterday I decided that for the next book, I was going to choose one that was shorter, and more modern. That way, it wouldn't require too much concentration and I could read it faster. Not to mention, my brain needs a rest from all that cerebral-ness.

Around midnight last night, I realized that I hadn't yet chosen a book, and since it was so late and I just wanted to go to sleep, I didn't go down to the computer to use LibraryThing to figure out what I had. I just chose a book that I could see just by looking at the shelves upstairs.

I decided I was going to re-read my Harry Potter books. That way, I'll have books 3-8 out of 50 in the bag, and I'll be prepared when book 7 comes out on July 21 (two days before my brithday, yay!).

Stuck Home Again

Well, Kimba did help me shovel the back walk and the driveway in the back yesterday. But someone plowed the road back there, and now there's a mound of ice-hardened snow where there used to be a perfectly clean end of the driveway. My little VW Bug won't get over that.

I called Kimba (she has a Toyota Rav4, with 4-wheel drive, which is how she was able to get here yesterday), but I'd woken her up. Her back was hurting, and I felt bad enough that she'd shoveled my driveway with her heart condition yesterday, so I told her to go back to sleep.

I called work again and told them that I couldn't get there, so I'm home for another day. Good thing I have enough vacation time for three snow days if I need them. I just hope I don't, because I've got plans for the rest of it--plus the week's worth I should be earning over the rest of the year.

I'm hoping to go to girls' camp this year with the young women in the stake--I miss girls' camp, and I still have yet to go on the fourth-year hike, so if I do go this summer, I'd want to be with the fourth years as a leader-type person.

Plus, I'm hoping to go to SEFF (the Southeastern FoLC Festival) to meet a few of my friends from the Lois & Clark Fanfic Message Boards. Although, it's kind of iffy whether or not there will even be a SEFF this year, since Genine (the person who's organizing the event) is currently having some doubts about her ability to be there.

If there's no SEFF, I hope to be able to go to LAFF, but that's not very likely. SEFF would be in Tennessee, which is get-to-able, but LAFF is in Los Angeles (I almost typed "Lois Angeles!"), and no matter which one I went to, I'd still have to buy a plane ticket, since driving there would take too much time, and I don't have that much paid vacation time!

Not to mention, saving up money for food and souvenirs and the hotel room and such is going to be difficult with my current financial situation. I just hope my income tax returns get deposited soon.

Snow Day

It's been snowing off and on today. I hope the roads aren't too bad by quitting time.

I added a recent picture of myself to my profile. Last week, I had Anna take a picture of me with my digital camera (I got it for Christmas) while I was sitting at my desk in my new place.

I've been thinking about writing a fanfic for The Class, and I even have a plan for one, but haven't really gotten around to typing it up. I should though--it's making me unable to continue the Lois & Clark fanfic I've been writing for a while now.

YES! We just got an e-mail from our HR person at work here--we're all leaving at 3pm, instead of 5! WOOHOO!

I'm kinda bored though, and will be for the next 50 minutes. I don't feel like reading any more of Anna Karenina right now (I just finished part III earlier, and I don't want to start on part IV yet), and I've played all the games on my Palm Pilot so often, they're not even addicting anymore. Not to mention, my e-mail inbox for work is completely empty.

TOC: The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication

The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication

by DSDragon

Table of Contents

Prologue: Long Journey's End

Chapter One: Voices in My Head

Chapter Two: Excitement and Confusion

Chapter Three: Planning, Plotting, and a Personal Favor
Chapter Four: Rivals and Arrivals
Chapter Five: Explanation and Exasperation
Chapter Six: Marriages and Mayhem
Chapter Seven - Coming Soon!

Chapter Six: The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication

Thanks to Terry Leatherwood, without whose conflict throwing this fic would suck. I’m just too nice to want to put the characters through anything bad, so I try to block it out and my writing suffers because of it. Terry asks just the right questions in just the right places to lead me to great conflicts, not only making the story more realistic, but hopefully more entertaining as well. After all, who wants to read a full-length story full of fluff? Not that I don’t like fluff—I just hate that it’s practically the only thing I’m able to write without help.

Kmar deserves lots of kudos too. She constantly checks my facts for me, and helps me with research I don’t even know I need to do. Not to mention, she can spell “reconnaissance,” which is one of the few words that still gets me every time.

You two rock!

*Some lines in this chapter have been quoted directly from the episode “Big Girls Don’t Fly.” In this chapter, I also make a small reference to a certain novel which shall remain nameless until the end of the chapter.*

To recap:

In chapter five, Jor-El, Lara and Clark arrived at his apartment, only to find Zara and Ching at a stand-off with Martha and Lois (with Jonathan sitting in the background). There were some exchanges of information, and an argument ensued after Lara let the bomb drop about the birth-marriage between Zara and Clark. Martha broke up the argument and everybody decided to go to sleep and talk/think about it in the morning.

And now, on with the show . . .

Remember:

*Telepathic Communication*
"Speech,"
"*Speech and Telepathic Communication at the Same Time,*"
and EMPHASIS.

Chapter Six
*Marriages and Mayhem*

The telephone rang in a fifth-story apartment on Carter Avenue.

It rang again, eliciting a moan from the comforter on the bed. Slowly, the comforter moved and a hand snaked out from beneath it, groping toward the night stand.

After the fourth ring, the hand reached its goal, bringing the receiver back under the comforter.

“Hullo?” asked Lois, voice low and gravel-filled from sleep.

“Lois?” Clark’s voice came over the line. “Are you still asleep?”

She perked up as she heard her fiance on the line. “Well, I was until the phone rang. Why?”

“Uh, Lois,” Clark said. “You do know that it’s almost ten, right? You missed the staff meeting, and Perry’s been looking for you since it ended.”

The covers suddenly folded over as Lois turned and sat up. “What? Ten o’clock? You mean I over-slept? That’s impossible! I never over-sleep.”

“Sorry, Honey, but you did today,” Clark soothed. “I don’t blame you though--you did seem pretty exhausted last night when I dropped you off.”

“Why didn’t you call me sooner then?” Lois asked as she hurried around the room, grabbing clean clothes, rushing through her morning routine and thinking to herself that it was a good thing she’d managed to take a shower before the whole debacle at Clark’s the night before.

“Perry wouldn’t let me out of the meeting,” came the answer. “He said at least one of us had to be here to fill him in on our stories, and since we know about each other’s individual stories too. . . .” He let the sentence hang, and Lois grumbled her displeasure at the idea--after all, how could she ever get the scoop on the rest of Metropolis if she didn’t get up early enough to get there first? “Anyway, while I’ve still got you on the phone, I should probably tell you that everyone is planning on continuing the conversation from last night after work this evening. I was going to tell you when you got in, but--”

“Right,” Lois answered, distracted as she hurriedly hung up the phone, applied her make-up, grabbed her shoes and purse, and left the apartment.

-----

Fifteen minutes later, Clark heard Lois grumbling all the way up the elevator shaft.

“Could’ve been here in five minutes if I hadn’t over-slept . . . stupid mid-morning city traffic . . .” came the sotto voce litany. Clark had to smile; Lois was just adorable when she was irritated. Plus, her rants were almost as fun to listen to as her babble-tangents.

As the elevator came within a couple of floors of the newsroom, Clark got up from his chair to pour Lois a cup of coffee. He reached the ramp just as the doors came open with a “ding,” and met her with a kiss at the elevator. “Morning, Lois,” he said with a smile as he handed her the mug.

“Almost isn’t anymore,” she grumbled, but returned the kiss. He watched as she carefully took a sip of the hot coffee, closing her eyes and sniffing it as she swallowed. “Mmm, thanks, Clark,” she said, opening her eyes and moving a bit more sedately down the ramp toward the bull pen and her desk. “What are we working on today?”

Clark reminded her about the status of a few of their open investigations, then started into the details of the new assignments they’d been given, but was interrupted when Lois suddenly sat straight up in her chair and turned around, fixing him with a piercing stare.

“Wait a second,” she said. “Before I left my apartment, did you say something about talking to . . . you know, THEM . . . again tonight?”

“Yeah,” Clark answered, uncertain whether the vitriol his fiancee put into the word “them” was for his birth-parents, Zara and Ching, or all four of the born-and-raised-but-currently-Earth-bound Kryptonians. “Everybody decided this morning before work that it was probably a good idea, since we still have to figure out what to do about some things anyway.”

“So, they called you, but you couldn’t call me before ten o’clock?” There was a dangerous note in her voice. Clark was secretly glad that Zara wasn’t working today, since her presence probably would have had Lois spitting nails within the hour, especially after Jor-El and Lara’s revelation of the night before. It was one thing for the “new girl in research” to have a crush on Clark, but he suspected it became quite another thing entirely to Lois when it was revealed that the very same “new girl” actually had had a claim--albeit a claim from a completely alien legal system--on him since they were infants.

“No, no, that’s not it,” he hurried to explain, quietly so as not to be overheard by their colleagues ranged around the bullpen. “Mom and Dad were already at my apartment, right? So when Jor-El and Lara and the others contacted me in my head, it woke me up. I was so surprised, I must have shouted because I woke up Mom and Dad, so I told them what the other four were saying, and we came up with the plan for this evening. I had already planned to tell you about it when you got here, but I didn’t know you had over-slept. I called you as soon as I could get to a phone after I realized you weren’t here yet.”

Clark inwardly chuckled at the adorable picture Lois made as she sulked, contradicting some of the statements she’d made earlier that week. “You know, it’s just not fair! I want to be telepathic too.”

-----

“What kind of barbarian civilization marries people when they’re babies anyway?” Lois asked no one in particular as she swung a fork over her Kung Pao chicken that evening. She and Clark had finished their work at the Planet, and were having dinner--courtesy of Superman’s World-Wide Delivery Service--with Martha and Jonathan while they awaited the arrival of the Kryptonians. “I mean, you’d think with all that technology, they would have at least had the sense to wait until the kids could make their own decisions, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed I would,” Jor-El answered from the stairway. She had not noticed Clark getting up to open the door, and turned quickly in her seat to see the Kryptonians as they walked into the apartment.

She opened her mouth to ask why he and Lara had married Clark and Zara then, but closed it when Jor-El continued.

“I had long pleaded with the leaders of our planet, not only to save as many of our people as possible from the destruction of Krypton, but also to find a balance between tradition and other, possibly better ways. Ways that would acknowledge the rights of the common people as well as those of the nobility.”

“But then why--”

“There simply was not time for persuasion,” Lara interjected. “Had we not performed the ceremony at the appropriate stage in Kal-El’s infancy, we would have called attention to our family in ways that would have, at worst, hampered our son’s ability to leave before the planet’s end, killing him as well as the rest of the population.

“As it was, we were lucky to have as much time as we did. The best we could do was to keep Zara and Kal-El from ever meeting, as we had hoped that he would find happiness with a woman from Earth.

“In a way, the birth marriage was also an alternative, should he not have found anyone suitable here. We wished then, as we do now, only for our son’s happiness.”

Lois thought about the new information she’d been given as the eight of them found places to sit around the living room, and made it a point to sit between Clark and wherever Zara sat. She noticed Martha staring at Lara with an unreadable expression on her face, although Lara did not notice as she defended her and Jor-El’s actions to Lois.

Jonathan spoke. “That’s what we want for him too.” Martha nodded her agreement.

Lois sighed. “Well, I guess I can see that. So, how do you undo it?”

“Undo?” Jor-El asked.

“Yes, how do you make it so that Clark and Zara aren’t married anymore?”

All four of the recently-space-bound Kryptonians looked at each other, and Lois wondered if they were having a high-speed telepath conference. They were at least doing the “speaking without words” thing that even some humans did from time to time.

She guessed that they really had not been speaking telepathically when Zara finally answered. Judging by Jor-El’s flinty expression, Zara’s upcoming words were either opinion or only personal knowledge. “There is no way in our laws for a birth marriage to be ‘undone.’ Both parties have a duty to each other and to the Kryptonian people. If marriages were suddenly allowed to be broken, what other laws might then be taken as merely ‘guidelines?’ No, there would be rebellions, criminals everywhere, chaos.”

Lois silently contemplated the possibility of calling Dr. Klein for some kryptonite as she raised an eyebrow at the other woman. Did she really believe what she was saying? It was like she was reciting a lesson, or she was some kind of brainwashed propaganda machine for Minitrue. “And your people always follow the law? What, there aren’t even annulments in your culture? How are two people who were married at birth supposed to live together if they were not even allowed the choice to agree or to disagree? What if they’re not even compatible, much less in love?”

“Compatibility is irrelevant,” Ching answered as Lara and Jor-El continued to be silent in the background, jaws tight. “The continuation of the species, especially of noble blood lines, is of the utmost importance, particularly now that the population of Kryptonian peoples in the universe is exponentially smaller than it was only decades ago.”

Something in the man’s tone which Lois could not put a name to made her think that he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her; maybe he had not been brainwashed as Zara had. She did not react to the insight, but filed it away for future reference nonetheless before she growled.

She stood, pushing Clark’s calming hand off of her thigh, where he’d rested it at the beginning of Zara’s explanation. “Do you even hear yourselves?” she asked as she swung her hands and arms wildly in frustration at Zara and Ching. “Do your people not have brains to think? Do they not have hearts to feel? Are you all robots, doing only what you’re told, never questioning whether or not those commands are right and good? Did no one think for themselves on Krypton?”

She watched Ching’s fists clench at his sides, but when he started to speak again, Jor-El held up a hand. “Stop,” he commanded.

Surprisingly, Ching obeyed. Lois wondered about that, and then remembered last night, when Jor-El had called Zara “Lady.” Was Ching a subordinate? Then did that mean that Jor-El and Lara were at least close in rank to Zara? They’d have to be, she deduced, since she doubted any Kryptonian noble had ever married below their station. Surely, that would be at least strongly discouraged, not to mention against their all-important laws, she scoffed to herself. Which would mean that Clark was--no, he couldn’t be, could he?--some sort of prince, or lord?

Her thoughts were curtailed as Clark’s birth father continued. “These young ones have not studied the ancient laws as I have. Before you were born,” Lois saw him nod to Clark, “and the threat to our home was fully realized, I pored over the oldest texts, searching for ways to precipitate change in our society.

“Many millennia ago, before the birth marriage became an almost mandatory tradition, there were quite a few instances of people who were excused from marriages they did not want when their majority came upon them. But such excuses had long passed into disuse and unofficially banned before our time. However, even the oldest of these Laws of Excuse still had not been formally and legally repealed on the day of Krypton’s demise.

“Therefore, if Kal-El were to approach the current governing Council of Elders with a request in accordance to those laws, then the Council would not be able to deny him the request, and upon condition of her agreement, his marriage to Lady Zara would then be severed.”

Lois smiled smugly at the woman in question--who looked slightly gob-smacked--and folded her arms across her chest as she leaned back on the couch cushions. Clark gently squeezed her shoulders in a brief side hug.

“I have indeed researched the old laws concerning our people’s marriage customs,” Ching answered the older man. Lois looked at him, the wheels turning in her head. Why was he searching such old laws? She remembered his tone from earlier then. Did he have a birth marriage he didn’t want either?

Or did he want someone else’s birth wife? She looked from him to Zara, whose eyes told Lois that she was just as surprised as Lois felt. Intrigued by the possibilities in Ching’s words and posture, Lois listened closely as the man continued.

Even Ching’s stoic exterior was cracking, lending credence to her theory that the man was decidedly not happy with the statement he was about to make.

“The old laws specifically prohibit the severing of a birth marriage between nobles, if the severing of such a union will threaten the peace which the Kryptonian people have enjoyed for hundreds of millennia. Should Lord Kal-El be excused from his marriage to Lady Zara, New Krypton will be plunged into civil war.”

-----

“I don’t understand,” said Martha, breaking the silence from the chair she sat in next to the couch Clark shared with Lois and Jonathan. “How could a divorce start a CIVIL war? I mean, I could understand if it were two countries with a treaty predicated on a marriage between members of both ruling families, but wasn’t Krypton basically one planet-wide country? That’s what it sounded like you said, Ching, ‘the peace which THE KRYPTONIAN PEOPLE have enjoyed.’ Am I right?”

Clark looked from one Kryptonian to the other as they each nodded in response: Lara, Jor-El, Zara, Ching. Martha continued, “Then how can a divorce--or a refusal to marry--between two people of the same country cause a war within that country? Why should the identity of one noblewoman’s husband make a difference?”

“Lady Zara is not merely a noblewoman,” Ching protested. “She is the First Lady, blood heir to the Kryptonian monarchy, and Lord Kal-El is the ruler consort, First Lord of New Krypton.” Clark stared at Ching, eyes wide, and jaw slack. Him, a king? The idea was daunting, to say the least.

“Therefore,” Jor-El explained, “if the marriage between Lady Zara and Kal-El were to be severed, then Lady Zara must marry his successor. But I also do not understand how this will cause civil war among our people.”

“Because if Kal-El doesn't return,” Zara answered, “Lord Nor is next in line for my hand.  He is a monster, a soulless brigand who would enslave all who oppose him, and the Council of Elders is blind to his treachery.  Marriage to me would ensure his reign; he will seize power, which will divide all the ruling houses in the hold that they have over the people. Riots will be followed by mass murders, followed by civil war.  Our people would live in fear, and there would be little to nothing that I could do to stop his tyranny.”

“Can’t you rule alone?  Or has New Krypton not embraced Women’s Lib?”  His fiancee’s pointed question brought a slight smile to Clark’s face, even through his surprise.

Lara sent him a query, mind-to-mind.  *Women’s Lib?*

His birth mother’s voice in his head as her eyes met his broke Clark’s thoughts from their stupor, and he answered, *A political and social movement which strives for equality between the sexes in business, government, economics, and other aspects of life.  Specifically, the movement emphasizes better rights for women.  ‘Women’s Lib’ is actually short for ‘Women’s Liberation,’ and the movement is also often called the Feminist Movement.*

Lara nodded, returning his look and sending a telepathic burst of interested and slightly-dampened confusion while he refocused on the verbal conversation.

“No,” Zara answered Lois’s question, and Clark heard the impatience in her voice.  “The first duty of all Kryptonian nobility is to produce legitimate, noble heirs.  Were I to refuse a husband and sever the birth marriage after the thirty-first anniversary of my birth, I would be jailed and tried for treason, a crime for which the penalty is death by banishment.  My body would be disintegrated, the Council would scatter my molecules across the universe, and Nor would win the throne by default.  My people would be left utterly without hope.”

A pall hung over the group as the information percolated through their minds.  Finally, a slightly subdued Lois spoke, clutching Clark’s hand as though she were afraid he would be ripped from her in the next few seconds.  “So . . . what?  We’re just supposed to sit here while you take Clark away to a planet he’s never seen, away from everybody he’s ever known?  We need him here too, you know.”

Clark held her close as Ching replied, “It is his duty.  There is no other way.”

“We will find a way,” Lara vowed.  “If not now, before you must leave, then as soon as possible so that he may return to Earth--the home we meant for him to love when we sent him here--before much time has passed without him.”  Clark looked to Jor-El, and saw his birth father’s solemn nod.

“Before we do that,” Jonathan said, “we need to do something about Jor-El and Lara’s stories, and their ship still needs to be taken to a better hiding place.”  Clark had nearly forgotten that his father was in the room; the man was quieter than usual tonight.

“Our stories?”  Lara asked.

“Oh yeah,” Martha answered.  “You’ll need human identities and background information, and disguises so that you won’t be too conspicuous.”

“Lt. Ching can take care of the necessary identifying paperwork,” Zara said.

Ching nodded from his corner.  “It will be easier than was creating Terran identities for Lady Zara and myself, since I shall only work backward from Lord Kal-El’s.  It is a matter of public record that he was adopted as an infant, so I need only create the paperwork for the birth parents of the child who was adopted and then named Clark Kent.  I will use the names on the birth record which was created when he was found.”

Martha, Jonathan, Lara and Jor-El nodded.  “If you need any of the paperwork we have for Clark,” Martha offered, “just let one of us know.  If I don’t have it in Smallville, then Clark probably has it here.”

“That will not be necessary.  I had already found the computerized records during my original search of the planet for his current whereabouts.”

“Since that’s taken care of,” Clark said, “I could go move the ship right now.”

“You will need help,” Zara said.

“I thought you people had done your homework?” Lois interrupted.  “Clark’s lifted a shuttle into space before, and he stopped an asteroid from demolishing the Earth.  Shouldn’t he be able to handle a space ship the size of a yacht?”

“Normally, yes,” Ching answered.  “But the ship in which Lord Jor-El and Lady Lara came to Earth was made from Kryptonian materials; therefore, it has a molecular structure much more dense than anything made with even the heaviest of Terran metals.  Moving a ship of the size necessary to transport two Kryptonians and the required supplies would take all five of us, possibly more if the ship is considerably larger than my estimates.”

Jor-El quoted a measurement that was unfamiliar to Clark, and Ching nodded.  “The five of us should be able to lift and transport it then, but not without difficulty.”

“Have you been able to fly yet?” Clark asked his birth parents.

“No,” Lara answered.  “Not yet, although the possibility of flying under my own power is a thrilling thought.”

Zara shook her head.  “Their powers will not come fully to them for another week at least.  It may take longer; our scientists are not yet certain if age is a factor in how long it takes for a Kryptonian to come to full strength under the influence of a yellow sun.  Learning to control the abilities with enough accuracy to avoid obstacles at the highest altitudes and speeds will take longer.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on the ship for another few weeks,” Clark concluded.

-----

The Colonel watched as General Taineckew perused the written report he had brought to him just minutes before.  The colonel had been especially hesitant to tell him that his troops were reluctant to attempt entry due to the obviously alien--and, judging from the dress and probable origin of the two beings to exit so far, probably impregnable--design.

“Yes, tipping our hand to the alien so early could be disastrous,” the general mused.  “Were there signs of anyone else aboard?”

“No, Sir,” the Colonel answered, “but if there were, surely they have noticed our presence and informed Superman.”

“Recommendations, Colonel?”

“It may be prudent to remove all troops from the valley, Sir.  The approaching storm front will serve to cover any evidence of their presence, should any inside have failed to notice already.”

“Do it, Colonel.  Dismissed.”  The Colonel did an about-face and left the office, polished boots clicking smartly on the linoleum in time to his regimented gait.

Taineckew paged his Lieutenant, “Reed, patch me through to Cash.”

“Yes, Sir,” Reed answered over the intercom.  A few moments later, the voice came through again, “Colonel Cash on line one, Sir.”

The General grunted.  “Make certain I am not disturbed until further notice.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Taineckew picked up the receiver, and pushed the button for line one.  “Colonel Cash, this is General Taineckew.  We have a matter of national security on our hands.”

“The Metropolis contingent is in place and awaiting your orders, Sir,” the other man answered.

“Keep an eye on Superman.”

“Superman, Sir?”

“Yes, Cash,” barked the general, “Superman.  A little less than a week ago, Superman was witnessed guiding a ship of unknown origin to a valley along the border of Idaho and Montana.  Two unknowns disembarked, and Superman escorted them out of the valley, presumably back to Metropolis, leaving the craft.  Attempts to open the craft and ascertain its contents have failed.  The size of the ship leads us to believe that there are more Kryptonians aboard, at least enough to subjugate the human race.  Your orders are to track Superman, note any changes in his behavior, and report back to me in one week.  You are also to identify the unknowns and their purpose here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

-----

Bottom-Dweller’s Note: I do not own the rights to the term Minitrue, nor to the novel it came from (George Orwell’s 1984), and I used the term without permission.  No copyright infringement was intended, however.  It just fit the situation in this story, and I’d profusely thank all involved if they would not sue me.

Next Chapter: Lara and Jor-El get disguises and learn about Superman, and the plot actually moves past Clinton Street (I hope).

Chapter Five: The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication

Chapter Five

*Explanation and Exasperation*

“Uh oh,” Clark said as he and his parents came in for a landing on his balcony.

“Is there a problem?” Jor-El asked.

“Yeah, those other two are back, and Lois looks pretty steamed.”

“Steamed?” his mother asked. Clark thought she might be a linguist, with all of the definitions she’d been asking him for, both before and during their flight. If she were, it would surely explain why he liked writing so much, since Martha and Jonathan Kent were more “doers” than writers.

“You’ll see,” he answered, leading the pair through his bedroom window as the male Kryptonian just inside the doorway to his apartment asked when he would return.

“Right now,” Clark answered him. He saw Lois turn to watch Jor-El and Lara, and opened his mouth to ask what the other Kryptonian pair wanted, but Jor-El spoke first.

“Lady Zara of the colony of New Krypton, I presume?”

Silence answered the question, and then Lois asked Clark, “Who?” as Zara mentally breathed, *Lord Jor-El, Lady Lara.*

Clark interjected telepathically to Zara, *You know them?* Then, he said with a shrug to Lois, “Don’t look at me, I’m just as stumped as you are.”

This statement seemed to surprise the elder Kryptonian, for he said, “Surely, my son, you were diligent in your studies?”

At this question and the double distraction of Zara’s, *Only from images in historical records taken from Krypton,* Clark blinked. “Well, yes,” he answered Jor-El, “but no teacher I know had even so much as heard of Krypton before three years ago, much less a whole colony of Kryptonians.”

“Did you not receive the lessons I sent with you in the capsule’s memory banks?”

“You mean the five messages in the globe?”

“No,” Lara interjected, stepping farther into the room. “Although we had hoped you would not need it, the ship itself held the knowledge you would need to function competently among other Kryptonians, should you encounter them.”

Jonathan spoke up then. “I think I understand what happened here.”

“Oh!” Clark exclaimed, realizing he’d been remiss as a host. Taking a moment to spin into casual clothing--a feat which, he was pleased to note, seemed to impress Jor-El and Lara--he introduced Lois and his parents to . . . his other parents. “Martha and Jonathan Kent, Lois Lane, this is Jor-El and Lara.”

While the three humans made their greetings verbally, Jor-El and Lara nodded politely.

*To be “steamed,” then, is to be annoyed?* Lara asked him silently once the formal introductions had been made.

Clark mentally chuckled. *Annoyed, irked, angry--take your pick,* he answered.

“Please, Jonathan Kent,” Jor-El said, unknowingly interrupting Clark’s conversation with his mother. “Do continue.”

“Just ‘Jonathan’ will be fine; family names are reserved for more formal occasions here,” Jonathan advised before clearing his throat. He waited for Jor-El’s nod, then continued, “When Clark’s ship first landed, a few strange people--rogue elements, I guess you could call them--kept coming by our house in Kansas asking about meteorites and such. Martha thought it would be a good idea to get rid of the ship, so that suspicions would die down. I buried it nearby three days after we found Clark, but somebody found it anyway.”

Lois took up the tale, and Clark--who was still processing the fact that there really was more knowledge of Krypton that he’d missed--was grateful for the opportunity to keep silent.

“Clark didn’t even see the ship until three years ago, when Bureau 39 and Jason Trask were trying to find him,” she explained. “Bureau 39 is--was--a branch of the military which was supposedly shut down nearly fifteen years ago. They believed that Clark was the scout for an alien invasion, and basically wanted to kill him.

“And Trask nearly succeeded once, too,” Martha interjected from the sofa area. “That was the first time any of us had ever seen Kryptonite. Clark was at about human strength for the better part of a day and a half.”

“You call him Clark?” Lara asked Martha.

“Well,” the other woman answered, hands fidgeting in her lap. “We didn’t really know what else to call him, so we named him for my family. Before Jonathan and I were married, I was Martha Clark.”

“It is an honorable name which brings one to reflect on one’s ancestors,” Jor-El intoned.

David, forgotten at the top of the entry staircase with Zara until Clark heard him speak, quietly mused, “This changes our plans considerably.”

“It changes nothing, Ching,” the woman--Lady Zara, Clark mentally corrected himself--answered just as softly. “Especially not our need for Kal-El’s assistance or our lack of time before New Krypton is plunged into civil war.”

-----

“New Krypton, huh?” Lois asked from the couch where she sat between Martha and Clark. “Not very imaginative, is it?”

“It was to be a temporary name,” Jor-El explained as he paced in front of the television set, Lara standing silent by the bedroom archway. ”The expedition on which Lady Zara’s family embarked was to be the first of many Kryptonian colonial expeditions, and each new colony was to call itself New Krypton for the space of five years, after which the colony’s elders were to choose a more appropriate name.”

“Unfortunately,” Zara continued the explanation, “mere weeks after the expedition was launched, Krypton was destroyed. My father and the other expedition leaders spent ten years searching for a habitable planet, desperate and despairing because when the last transmission from Krypton was not followed by any more, they realized that they were the last of a once-proud race with no homes to return to. Either the colony would survive, or the Kryptonian race would become extinct. The elders, my father among them, unanimously agreed to keep the name New Krypton, in honor of their dead home. It is perhaps a mercy that the colonists were sent at the same time as those searching for a suitable world, otherwise there would have been no possibility of life past the third generation due to the risks inherent in too much inter-breeding.”

“But why did the colonial expeditions start so late?” Martha called from the kitchen, where she’d gone to make some tea for their guests. As she walked back into the living room with a tray full of cups and saucers, she continued, “If Earth were dying, and I had warning, I think I’d want to get as many people as possible off of the planet, and the sooner, the better.”

Zara, regal even in shame, hung her head. “Jor-El himself--” she nodded at the older man, “--repeatedly warned the council of the imminent demise of Krypton.”

“But?” Lois prodded.

“The council,” the lady answered, “were mostly too proud to believe him, and those who might have listened--my father, Sen-Ra, included--were afraid that the knowledge would cause hysteria among the masses. Instead, the council decreed that colonial expeditions would be sent in five-year intervals to increase trade between Krypton and the other peoples of the twenty-eight known galaxies.” The last Zara said through her teeth, eyes hard and distant.

“But if you know about twenty-eight galaxies,” Martha questioned, “why didn’t you have trade already? And why not go to one of those already-inhabited planets?”

Jor-El answered, “Krypton once did do much trading with other planets, but thirty years ago, no Kryptonian had left the planet in over three millennia. We became a race of reclusive, complacent scholars. By then, we knew of no other civilized races which would take in Kryptonian refugees, and many on the council felt it best to strike out on our own until we could re-build those diplomatic ties which had unraveled throughout the millennia.”

Ching, who had taken a position standing at attention behind Zara’s seat on the stairs, elaborated. ”Now, only ten thousand out of what was once a population of ten billion still live, barely surviving on the only habitable planet to be found after the death of our home world. Were it not for the final visuals received from Krypton’s satellites before their annihilation, we would not have known that Kal-El yet lived.”

Lois looked at Jor-El and Lara just as they looked at each other, familiar blank looks on their faces. ”You look surprised,” she remarked.

“Yes,” Lara answered. “We knew the time limit we had before Krypton’s end, but Kal-El had just come to the age when the birth-marriage ceremony was to be performed. The council--”

“Birth WHAT?!?” Lois shouted, jumping to her feet.

“--would have been suspicious if the ceremony was not done, so we found it fortuitous that Sen-Ra, who had recently had a daughter, would be leading the first colonial expedition within weeks.” Lara had continued throughout the younger woman’s outburst.

Somewhere in the back of her consciousness, Lois registered Clark’s arms coming around her as he asked, “The WHAT ceremony?”

Each of the eight people gathered in the small apartment began to speak at once, and there was a sudden cacophony. Lois wondered if it was as loud telepathically as it was verbally.

A shrill whistle cut through the din of argument.

“Enough!” Martha shouted into the sudden silence. She waved in the general direction of the clock on Clark’s VCR, and Lois--kind of concerned at the tangents her thoughts had been taking that night--was amazed that it showed the same time as the watch on her wrist, since her own VCR was constantly flashing “12:00.”

Martha continued, her voice softer, “It’s late, Jor-El and Lara have had a long journey, and I’m sure Lois and Clark have to work in the morning. We’ll all be able to better appreciate what’s being said after we’ve had some sleep anyway.”

“Of course,” Jor-El acknowledged the wisdom of her statement. “Let us then retire.”

“I guess I should get going too,” Lois muttered around a yawn. Giving Clark a kiss which even she had to admit was meant as a possessive gesture, she said, “I’ll see you at the Planet. It was nice to meet you, Jor-El, Lara.”

“Wait, Lois,” Clark said. “I’ll just get everyone settled here, and then I’ll fly you home.”

“Okay, but make it quick; if I sit down I’ll fall asleep, but if I stay standing I may not stay that way for long--I’ll fall over, asleep where I stand.”

She returned the soft smile he gave her, then watched as her fiance organized things. “Mom, Dad, you’ve gotten set up in the guest room, right?” He turned to Jor-El and Lara, pointed with his thumb back through the archway toward the balcony and said, “You can take my bed, through there. I’ll take the couch--or the air above it, anyway.”

“That may not be wise, Kal-El,” Zara said, and Lois’s fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t want to break her nails trying to claw the woman’s eyes out of their sockets.

“Oh, would you leave him alone?” The words jumped out of her mouth unexpectedly. “He hasn’t seen them since he was a baby, and all you can do is talk about wisdom? And what’s so ‘unwise’ about giving up his own bed for his parents’ comfort, anyway?”

“Nothing,” Zara answered. “However, it would not be wise for the parents of Superman to be seen staying with Clark Kent.”

“Superman?” Lara asked, and Lois guessed that Clark hadn’t filled his birth parents in on the whole “defender of truth, justice and the American way” thing yet.

“Another topic which can wait until tomorrow to be discussed,” Martha interjected. ”And Zara’s right. Jimmy was told that Superman’s parents were coming, and he already sees Jonathan and me as Clark’s parents. But where else could they go? They couldn’t go to Lois’s place.”

“There is sufficient room at the place we have inhabited during our stay on Earth,” Zara offered. ”Of course, it would only be temporary, but it would keep Superman’s parents from association with Clark Kent, and allow people to believe that Kryptonians as a whole, and not just the one individual they know, are solitary--or at least extremely insular--beings, thereby perpetuating the illusion you have cultivated that Superman goes to some remote and untraceable place when he is not helping the people of Earth.”

“I hate it when they’re right,” Lois mumbled.

“Who?” Clark whispered. “Zara and Ching?”

“No,” she answered, forgetting in her fatigued state that she really had no reason to be jealous of Zara, just as she had none in Mayson Drake, Toni Taylor, Antoinette Baines and Lana Lang. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t hate it when they were right.

-----

The colonel had taken the corporal’s report, and made his own report in person to General Taineckew.

“And inside the ship?” the general asked once the colonel had finished speaking.

“The reconnaissance team was unable to attain entry with the standard equipment, and has been ordered to return upon acquiring alternate means of entry.”

“Very well,” Taineckew nodded, the gears turning in his head. “Keep me informed as to their progress, Colonel. Dismissed.”

The colonel clacked his heels together smartly, snapped off a salute, pivoted in place, and left the general’s office as Taineckew reached for the intercom on the far corner of his desk.

“Reed, get me Cash,” he commanded his aide. “I want a contingent on standby in Metropolis on the double!”

Chapter Six