Red Sky
By Jenni Debbage <jdse08662@blueyonder.co.uk>
Rated: PG-13
Submitted: September 2000

____________

It's been quite some time since I visited my Kent family but, for those of
you who are interested in their continuing lives, this is their next
adventure.  These stories stand alone but it might be helpful to understand
some references to past tales if you know something of the history of my
family.

My heartfelt thanks go out to Yvonne Connell, Laurie Dunn, Carol Malo and
Wendy Richards, my beta readers and friends who have encouraged me to keep
writing this story through a hectic and difficult time in my life.  And a
special mention should go to Laurie for sending me an excerpt from her
local newspaper on the anniversary of the eruption of Mount St. Helens; the
insight into volcanic eruptions was invaluable.

And also my thanks go to my editor, Sarah Murray, who I was very fortunate
to spend some time with this summer, showing her around my beautiful
country.  And finally, it was great to meet with all my fellow Laffers this
August.  Thank you all for the very positive encouragement you gave me to
finish this story.

I have also been asked by some readers to reintroduce Lois and Clark's
children and give their ages and who was the eldest:

Julian: Nine (adopted in 'Master Race')
Joel: Eight
Clara: Seven
Nathan: Three

I hope you enjoy and please, feedback is very welcome.

The usual disclaimers apply.


Red Sky

Chapter One
Papillon

August 2006

On first sight the island was beautiful.  Golden sands lined the edge of
the fresh green forest and the waters that lapped the rim of gold were, in
the soft light of approaching evening, of a deep indigo blue.  As in all
the best of these south Pacific islands, at least the ones that adorned the
travel brochures, the green-clad hills ascended into cumulus clouds,
dominated by a veiled peak of considerable size.  Somewhere above the tree
line, now hidden from view by a soft, red-tinted ball of fuzzy cloud, the
mountain reached its zenith.

Perhaps, during the three weeks the family would spend here, they could
climb to the top, the view would be spectacular and with a little boost of
super power the ascent would not be so difficult.  Lois' thoughts jarred on
that last notion since both she and Clark had agreed that apart from two
short patrols over Metropolis each week, the use of super powers during
this vacation was taboo.  Of course major emergencies always overruled that
decision, but Lois sincerely hoped that the world would get along without
her husband's assistance for the next three weeks.

This was an interlude for them to enjoy as a family, doing the sort of
things that any other family would enjoy, swimming, fishing, playing ball
games with their kids (and hopefully more adult games with each other) and
just relaxing in the warm sunshine.  To this end Lois and Clark had chosen
a remote spot where the constant demand to help out as Superman would not
intrude on their summer break.  This past year had been a particularly
traumatic one for all of the family and Lois had insisted that on this
island idyll Superman would not be invited.

Now as they clung to the rail of the somewhat ancient island hopper, the
only passenger ship which serviced the smaller islands in this part of the
Pacific, the four children jumped up and down with unrepressed excitement
at the view of their holiday home.  Normally, the family spent the summer
in Smallville and last year there had been the trip to Britain, but that
had been a working trip for Mom and Dad and although it had been momentous
in the sense that it had brought Julian to them, it hadn't been a totally
enjoyable time.  This year was going to be different.  The island looked
really 'cool' and what was best of all, they would have Mom and Dad all to
themselves for a whole three weeks.

If there was any disappointment in this, it was that their Kent
grandparents had chosen to spend their time in Smallville.  Maybe Grandpa
Jon, because he had been so ill, had wanted to return to the one place he
considered his home.

Actually, Jonathan Kent had recovered from his surgery remarkably well, but
in their assumption the children were correct; Jon wanted to return to his
roots.  The good earth of Kansas with its familiar surroundings and the
friends he and Martha had known for almost all of their lives would
rejuvenate Jonathan and give him back his balanced outlook on life.  Let
the young folk go off and explore these faraway places, he was content with
his old home.

Besides, it would do the family good to spend sometime alone together.  The
elder Kents knew better than anyone that, given the busy lifestyle of Lois
and Clark, the couple required the help of the extended family to raise
their children and both Martha and Jonathan were delighted to participate
in the moulding of the future generation of the Kent/Lane dynasty.  But
Lois and Clark and their offspring also needed time to rely only on each
other for their comfort, time to bond together as a new branch of this
unique family.

The ship, which had been sailing along the southern shore of the island,
now navigated around the most eastern promontory and headed northwards into
a large bay where the dwellings of a small township clung to the edges of
the only river on the isle.  Joseph in travel had informed them that the
beautiful Ille de Papillon was indeed named for a butterfly as, seen from
the air, the island's shape mimicked the two wings of a butterfly while the
long, narrow mountains in the middle were the body of the beautiful
creature.  Lois was a little disappointed that she could not view this
aerial spectacle for herself, but she was not about to break the rules just
to prove the travel books right.  There would be no unnecessary flying on
this trip, it was the reason they had flown by a legitimate airline and now
were approaching the island by sea.

The small houses clustered around the mouth of the river grew in size as
they sailed ever closer and the painted white wooden buildings became
separate entities.  A moderately sized harbour came into view with a wooden
dock stretching out into the sea and Lois was relieved that she would not
have to transfer to the smaller boats she spotted striking out towards
their transport.  The tiny, frail-looking canoes covered the sea between
the ship and land swiftly until the faces of the occupants could be seen
clearly, laughing and shouting out their happy welcome.  Oh my, Lois
thought that this only happened in books and movies, but when you
considered that the ship only called once every three weeks, it wasn't
surprising that the natives should be pleased to see their one regular
contact with the outside world.

If it were possible the Kent children's excitement escalated at the
welcoming committee and even their parents' hearts warmed at the sight of
the friendly faces gazing up at them from the canoes as the ship negotiated
its way to the landing dock.  But the time for disembarkation was fast
approaching and Lois and Clark called their offspring aside in preparation
for going ashore.  For the next hour the crew of the ship busied themselves
unloading passengers and supplies to the dock.  With an almost lazy
competency the job was completed; no one hurried around too much in the
warmth of the late afternoon sun and when the crated goods that had been
awaiting transport had been safely stowed onboard, the ship made
preparations to depart.

When finally the family, with all its attendant luggage, was left alone on
the pier, an ancient black taxi approached them with its almost as ancient
taxi driver.  The dark, lined face with a tooth-gapped smile offered to
take them to the island's 'Superstore,' for that must be where the new
folks were headed, as Madame Blanc had told him just this morning that she
was expecting visitors from off the boat.  A very moderate fee was arranged
and the family, with baggage, piled onboard.

The journey was short and extremely bumpy as the old shock-absorbers tried
but failed to cope with the potholed roads.  The street from the harbour
area climbed along the side of a hill and buildings, lining only one side
of the street, perched on the edge of the steep incline with the help of
stilts, giving them a very precarious appearance.

Halfway along this road, the driver swung his vehicle into a tight left
turn which sent the occupants sliding about inside the car and wondering
which (if any) motoring test this senior citizen had ever passed.  However,
after a short journey along this new road, the ground levelled off and the
road surface seemed to improve as it opened out into the town square.  Here
all the important buildings of the community were situated; the one and
only island church; the school; the mayor's office; the single hotel and
restaurant and, the Kents' destination, the town store.  Each of these
buildings was in varying states of repair, depending on their importance to
the community, and Lois and Clark were happy to see that the store, with
the adjoining hotel, was freshly painted and exuded a highly profitable
air.  But, as there appeared to be no other competition on the whole
island, this was not a surprising occurrence.

Mr and Mrs Blanc, well aware of the ship's landfall, were standing on the
stoop of the store waiting to welcome their guests.  This was the first
time that either party had set eyes on each other, most of the booking
communications having been made by phone or on the Internet.  Papillon
might be far removed geographically from the rest of the world, but its
inhabitants were pleased to state that technologically the world had not
passed them by and that their town emporium boasted a 'Cybernet Cafe.'
Actually it was one computer linked to the world wide web which the Blancs
were happy to share with those more progressively minded fellow islanders.
There were still many of the 'butterfly people' who were happy to remain in
the backwater of life and though most in this category were from the older
generation, this was not true of all.

Finally unloaded from the dilapidated transportation, Lois and Clark,
surrounded by their children, walked up the steps to join the waiting
couple, pleased to find that the Blancs seemed only a little older than
themselves and decidedly amiable.

Holding out his hand in a friendly manner, the man spoke up.  "Mr and Mrs
Kent and children, welcome to our lovely Ille de Papillon.  My wife, Eva,
and I hope you have an enjoyable stay on our little island."  Mr Blanc
spoke with a faint French accent but whether the couple had originated in
France or had ever visited, Lois and Clark had no idea.  Perhaps the accent
was a throw back to the days when these islands had been a colony of France.

His wife, Eva, joined in the conversation.  "You must have spent a long day
travelling and you must be anxious to view the villa.  When I went along to
check on things earlier this afternoon, I stocked up the fridge with some
provisions, so you should have everything you need until you get settled.
A couple of the village ladies have agreed to cook and clean for you, so
you can just relax and enjoy our old world hospitality.  Leah and Sally
will be round in the morning to introduce themselves."

Almost overwhelmed by these intimations, Lois thanked the woman for her
kindnesses.  "Well, you certainly have taken care of everything and you're
right, it has been a very long day, so if you could show us where to go to
find our accommodation we would be very grateful."

"The bungalow is about five miles south along the cliff road from here,"
Mr Blanc divulged.  "It's very comfortable and it has a lovely view of the
sea and its very own beach, which I'm sure you children will adore."   This
last piece of information was directed towards the kids with a beaming smile.

"That sounds very nice, Mr Blanc, but perhaps we should've held onto the
taxi, if it's so far away," Clark suggested.  Five miles was no distance
for a super-powered being and he could make a few trips once they were out
of sight of inquisitive eyes, but he wasn't sure if Superman's help would
be appreciated; after all, the man in Blue was not with them on vacation.
However, he was spared any further racking of his brain as the store keeper
announced, "Oh no, Mr Kent.  I have my own transport and I'll be happy to
take you to your holiday home.  Wait here and I'll bring it round the front
of the store."  And so saying, he hurried off around the corner of the
building.

Clark turned to view the unfamiliar surroundings, his wife and children
copying his actions.  The view that confronted them was indeed pleasing.
In the centre of the square was some sort of memorial stone, topped by a
sculpted angel, and surrounding the monument lay a well-tended garden with
leafy trees shading a few park benches.  The adjoining building behind them
sported the sign 'Hotel de Papillon' and stated that all visitors were
welcome to enjoy its bar and restaurant.  The proprietors' names completed
the sign and showed that the Blancs owned the hotel as well as the store.

A small clapboard church bordered the south side of the square and,
although it also was surrounded by a carefully looked after graveyard, the
building itself looked as if in need of some repair and painting.  This was
not true of the school, standing directly opposite.  In fact, this was a
comparatively new building compared to the others and it looked like a
great deal of importance was placed on this edifice--a description which
could not be levelled at the structure next door.  The old-fashioned gas
pumps standing in front of this ramshackle barn clued the family into the
fact that this was the town garage and definitely not the faded sign that
sat askew atop of the large double doors.  None of the watchers were
surprised to see the old taxi parked outside this building or the old man
sitting talking with a younger version of himself, slightly less lined and
toothless, as the stranger busied himself now and then beneath the hood of
a pickup truck.

Their visual explorations were brought to a halt as a large car was driven
up to the foot of the stoop.  Were none of the cars on this island postwar
(and which war)?  A very old but immaculately valeted Rolls Royce
convertible, its black surface polished and its chrome work gleaming in the
shadows of the evening sun, stopped beneath them.  Mr Blanc alighted
spritely and with Clark's help began loading the luggage into the trunk.
Once the family were aboard, the car set off along a road that branched off
from the square behind the little church.  Wafting through the open door,
they could hear the sound of a number of voices singing sweetly in chorus
to the accompanying strains of a rather wheezy organ.  Mr Blanc explained
that it was choir practise evening.

The drive out to their bungalow was an extremely pleasant one and as they
passed beneath the shady archway of trees which bordered their route,
tantalising glimpses of sparkling seas could be spotted between the
green-clad branches.  The road was little more than a dirt track but Mr
Blanc was more adept at avoiding the holes than their taxi driver and
therefore the journey was not so tumultuous or bone shaking.

Too soon the car turned left off the highway and began to descend the
gently declining cliff towards a flattened clearing in the woods where sat
a long, low bungalow, encircled on all sides by a covered balcony.  Like
most of the other buildings on the island the house was built of wood and
very recently had been given a fresh coat of white paint.  In front of the
house, the trees had been cleared away, giving its occupants a panoramic
view of the bay beneath--a view that almost took the breath away.  Situated
along the southern wing of the butterfly, the house looked northwards
across the expansive lagoon.   And, though the town was cut off from view
by a rocky shoreline which was dotted with pretty sandy coves, far in the
distance the twin northern wing could be seen rising from the ocean. This
was certainly a south sea island paradise.

After enthusing over the magnificent scene, the family turned to explore
their new home and were thankful and relieved at what they found.  This was
the first time they had ventured to book a holiday cybernet style and had
been vaguely anxious as to what they might find.  The house was extremely
clean and tidy and in an excellent state of repair.  It was also quite
large, providing four bedrooms, two of which were ensuite, a large living
room, a separate dining room adjacent to a huge kitchen and laundry room
and another bathroom.  And all rooms had access to the veranda.  For a time
it seemed that an argument over who should have which bedroom would follow,
but gratifyingly Clara gave up her quest for a room with a sea view in
favour of her own private bathroom, one which she challenged her two elder
brothers to use at their peril.

Satisfying himself that the family had everything they needed for the
night, Mr Blanc left them alone with the stipulation that if they required
his assistance they only had to phone.  The next hour passed in noise and
chaos as the Kents unpacked their belongings and took possession of their
temporary home.  Supper was prepared by the adults as the children, with
the reminder to stay close to the bungalow, set out to explore.

As was to be expected, the children's first port of call was down the path
and steps to the beach and when there they quickly divested themselves of
socks and shoes and plunged into the water.  To their happy surprise the
water even at this advanced hour of the evening was warm, unlike the ocean
of the eastern seaboard back home and Clara, being something of a water
baby, ventured further into the blue depths than her brothers.  Perhaps,
being the lone female in the family of boys, Clara felt challenged to prove
that being a girl was no drawback to being the best, or perhaps she had
just inherited her mother's competitive nature.  Whatever the reason, it
was very often Clara who led her siblings into trouble.

Well aware of this tendency to push the boundaries, Julian called a
warning.  "Don't go in too deep, Clara.  Remember there's sharks in these
waters."

"And you wouldn't want that poor shark out there to break his teeth on your
thick skin."  Joel chuckled at this notion, which wasn't entirely
ridiculous.

Over the summer the family had become aware that Clara's skin was becoming
impervious to cuts or bruises.  Her hoyden personality had in the past led
to her body sporting many trophies of adventures gone wrong, but in these
last few months, though the adventures continued, her body was slowly
becoming immune to at least minor hurts.  Occasionally too, she heard
things that would be impossible for the normal human ear to pick up on.
And she certainly tuned in on the warning about sharks.  Small cuts and
bruises might not make any impact on her flesh but, recalling her fright
and horror while watching the old videos of 'Jaws' and its sequels,  she
was not prepared to take her chances against the razor sharp teeth of a
shark.  Even Joel was not completely invulnerable yet.

"Sharks!!  Yikes!!"  And with a squeal of horror Clara swung round to study
the ocean behind her but the expanse of blue sea was completely devoid of
the telltale dorsal shape that would herald the arrival of danger.  Shrieks
and giggles informed her that she had been teased, so she headed back
towards shore and her horrible brothers who were falling about laughing at
her distress.

Seeing their angry sister splashing through the shallows and bent on taking
revenge for their joking, the brothers made for the path and the shelter of
their parents.  Mad Dog Clara was someone best to be avoided when on the
warpath.  However, by the time their sister arrived at the house she too
was laughing at her swift retreat from the water and at her brothers'
craven dash for the safety of Mom and Dad's company.  As long as they
appreciated who was in charge of the younger members of this family Clara
was prepared to be magnanimous.

That evening, in the pleasant cooler air of approaching night, supper was
served on the terrace that overlooked the darkening cove.  While they ate,
each member of the family offered suggestions of what they would most like
to do during their stay on the island and a list was made of all the
favourite ideas.  At the top of everyone's list was exploring and that was
designated for first thing the next morning, directly after they had
returned to the town to buy some more groceries and find their way about
the small township.

Lois had been concerned about their mode of transport during their stay,
but Mr Blanc had informed them that the islanders mostly used bicycles to
get around and that in a small hut at the side of the house they would find
a number of these stored away for use of visitors.  If, however, the family
wanted to explore further, then the Blancs owned a small pickup truck which
they would be happy to rent out for a small fee.

Fortunately, when the bicycles were dragged out of storage, they were found
to be more up to date than the cars they had so far travelled in and one
even sported a child's seat on the back.  The Blancs had certainly done
their homework and taken care of all the family's needs.  Now Lois' only
concern was would she remember how to ride the things.  A hilarious half
hour ensued before suppertime while a slightly embarrassed mother practised
forgotten skills before her adept kids and her ever skilful husband.  Even
without the use of super powers Clark would always be the consummate
athlete.  Feeling the odd one out, teetering about on two wheels, Lois
wished for just a small sliver of kryptonite to level the playing field,
but then pushed that unwelcome thought aside, hoping that this holiday
would be devoid of evil villains targeting Superman.

The family that went off to bed that night were agreeably sleepy and
happily content with their choice of holiday venue.  Therefore, it was in
extreme trepidation and shock that they were brought from their beds in the
middle of the night by the sound of a massive explosion followed by a deep
and far off rumbling.

Collecting in the living room in varying degrees of wakefulness, five Kents
gazed inquisitively at their super hero.

Lois instructed her husband.  "Clark, go find out what that was."  But when
he turned to the bedroom to comply, she demanded, "Where are you going?"

"To unpack the suit."

"Oh, no, buster!  Superman isn't here."

"Lois, that was an explosion.  People may be hurt.  They may need my help."

"They might, but if Superman was where he ought to be, which is back in
Metropolis, he would have to hear about this through the media and it would
take time for him to arrive.  If you're here in seconds, you might as well
announce to the world that Clark Kent is Superman."

"You have a point, honey.  But I can't just ignore this.  We agreed I'd
deal with the big emergencies, remember."

A huge sigh escaped from Lois; she understood that Clark could never ignore
people in trouble.  Touching his cheek with a soothing hand, she restated
her point.  "And you will, but let's not rush into things.  First we should
find out what actually happened."  Another rumble accompanied her words and
she grabbed onto Clark to steady herself as her children clung to various
pieces of furniture.  "Clark, the kids!" Lois screamed, but she was already
being whisked around the room, until the whole family stood within the
shelter of Clark's arms.  After what seemed like an eternity but was in
truth only a few minutes the house settled and Lois and Clark spent the
next moments calming their children and assuring themselves that their
offspring had not been harmed.

"An earthquake?!" Clark suggested.

The ringing of the telephone shattered the almost eerie stillness that had
settled over the house, causing everyone in the room to jump.  Clark was
the first to recover and, still holding onto a clinging Lois, he crossed to
the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hallo, Clark Kent speaking."

"Mr Kent, Philippe Blanc, here.  I thought I should check that you and your
family are all right after this latest episode."

"Episode?!"

"Yes!!  Solvan's latest utterance."

"Who or what is Solvan?" Clark was developing a bad feeling about this.

"He's our resident fire god."  A wry chuckle could be heard from the other
end of the phone.  "At least, if you take note of what the local natives
say.  In fact, its Papillon's volcano.  And you really have nothing to
worry about.  Solvan's been letting off steam like that for decades.
Newcomers take a little time to get used to his antics.  You folks get on
back to sleep now, Solvan won't interrupt you again tonight."

"I'm not sure Mr Blanc, that sounded like a pretty large explosion, perhaps
somebody was hurt.  Maybe we should check it out."

"No need, no need.  Most of any debris that Solvan throws up falls on the
south side of the island where there are no settlements so no one is ever
injured."  Mr Blanc sounded very sure.  "You can take a look in the
morning.  You really won't be able to see anything at night, apart from the
red glow."

The local man's assertion on both counts proved to be true as Clark
discovered when he ventured out at the end of the phone call.  Nonetheless,
he hadn't wanted to advertise Superman's presence on the island, so donning
his darkest clothes he flew up into the heated atmosphere to do an aerial
scan.  Without the covering of cloud the wide mouth of Solvan could be seen
pulsing red in the darkness.   But, following Blanc's information, the
unseen hero flew southwards and, dropping closer to the earth, searched
with vision and hearing for anyone in need of succour, widening his search
parameters as he went.  Yet throughout the island all was quiet.  It seemed
that the only people disturbed by Solvan's mutterings were the visiting
'city folks'.

By the time Superman had reached the northern shoreline he was convinced of
the safety of the islanders and he turned his face gratefully towards Lois
and his children.  His direct flight path home took him closer to Solvan's
gaping maw than before and, his curiosity tweaked, he hovered above the
mountain's peak.  From this new position Clark could now view the molten
lava bubbling and simmering in the bowels of the volcano far beneath him.
Mesmerized by the seething vermillion mass, the hero was drawn
unconsciously down towards the crater's edge, gliding closer and closer to
the red glow beneath him until he could feel the heat on his skin.
Suddenly aware that he had lost altitude, Clark shook away the cobwebs that
had formed inside his head and, forcing himself to rise higher in the sky,
he resumed his flight home.  Boy, was he tired and all his muscles ached.
Did super heroes suffer from jet-lag when flying on conventional modes of
transport?

Obviously the rest of his family did, because everyone was asleep when he
crept inside the darkened, silent house.  Stripping quickly out of his
clothes, he crept into bed and drawing Lois' warm body against his own, he
joined her in sleep.

*****

Chapter Two
Unexpected Visitor

"A volcano!!  With molten lava and hot rocks and everything?!"  Lois' voice
was muffled by the shower but Clark could still hear the shock that imbued
her words in response to the findings of his night flight.  The shower was
turned off with a vengeance and a towel-clad Lois emerged from behind the
shower curtain, regarding her husband with a jaundiced eye.  "Let me get
this straight, Clark.  I asked you to find us a holiday spot where we could
have a nice quiet, trouble-free vacation and you chose an island with its
very own active volcano."

"Honey, I asked Joseph for advice and he suggested that the south sea
islands were the place to go to get away from it all and *you* seemed to
like the idea," he reminded his irate wife.  "So, when we found Papillon on
the 'Idyllic Holiday Destinations' web site, it looked so beautiful and
peaceful, I went ahead and booked the place.  Absolutely nowhere did it
mention a volcano, active or otherwise."  Clark spoke placatingly.
"Besides, Philippe Blanc said we shouldn't be worried.  It appears that
Solvan's been rumbling on like this for years.  The locals are completely
unfazed by it all."

"Well, your wife is not completely unfazed by it all."  Lois exited the
bathroom with Clark at her heels and preceded to drop the towel from her
still slender yet curvy body as she searched through unfamiliar drawers for
clothes to wear.  She continued her tirade, unaware of the effect her naked
form was stirring in her husband.  "Traffic pileups; manic Metropolitans;
deadlines and demanding editors; even the occasional insane bad guy I can
deal with, but natural disasters are not my forte."

"If you want to go home, I could fly us."  Clark's suggestion was not
heartfelt.  He was at present struggling with a very different type of
suggestion.

Lois swung back to face her husband as she pulled a very skimpy T-shirt
over her head and covered her nakedness, but the plunging neckline and
clinging material did little to assuage Clark's discomfort.  "And how would
you explain the disappearance of the Kent family?  It may have escaped your
notice, but our ship doesn't return for another three weeks.  And the kids
would be disappointed to leave so soon.  They really love it here.  And
Lois Lane doesn't turn tail and run from any mountain even if it happens to
have its very own resident fire god."

"That's my girl," Clark's arms surrounded his wife, halting her progress in
dressing.  "I kinda love it here too and you know there is nowhere quite so
romantic as a tropical island.  Remember when I used to fly us to an island
just like this."

He was feathering soft kisses along her shoulder and Lois found herself
melting into his embrace.  "Oh yes," she whispered huskily, her memory lost
in warm reverie.  "Four children ago."

As if on cue, a loud knock fell on the door--thankfully, the children were
learning to knock first before barging into their parents' bedroom--and
Joel's voice enquiring if they were ever getting up today wafted into the
room.  Clark groaned at his son's choice of words.  At this moment there
seemed to be little chance of that.

Lois giggled at his discomfort.  "Down boy!!  Our kids are calling, but
don't worry I'm sure that we'll find time for what you have in mind."
Clark's mind was not the problem.  "I think a cold shower might be in order
for the present, sweetheart."  And Lois peeled herself away from her
husband and finished dressing.

*****

The morning trip into town by pedal power proved to be invigorating, even
for Lois and, though the bright sun shone down on the family as they cycled
into the square, at this early hour the heat was not yet oppressive.
Parking their bikes in the racks in front of the store, they wandered on
foot down to the harbour.  The dock area was busier than the previous day,
with fishermen mending nets and painting boats, a number of which
advertised on hand-painted signs propped up by their berths that they were
available for hire for fishing trips.  Immediately the children sought a
promise from their parents that they could participate in that particular
pastime and were happy to receive an assent.  A number of empty berths
along the quay side suggested that already some of the boats had embarked
on their employment for the day.

Behind the quay a solitary gift shop was opening its doors and setting out
its wares under a gaily coloured awning.  Most of these items were hand
crafted from shells, ornamental lamps and figures of animals and people,
jewellery and nicknacks abounded while some more spectacular shells had
been left as nature intended.  Paintings too were being hung around the
window of the small shop, all various views of the island and surprisingly
very skilfully painted.  Lois wondered as she meandered amongst the various
goods just how profitable was the trade; after all, they appeared to be the
only visitors at present on the island.  Of course, she was not entirely
certain of this point and these types of back to nature holidays were
becoming more popular with the population of planet earth, most of whom
were living in ever increasing over crowded cities.

Her thoughts were broken into by the sounds of a sweetly purring engine
approaching the little dockyard, and as she turned she set her sunglasses
back down on her eyes as she stared directly into the sun.  Gliding through
the water, seeming almost to skim along the blue surface, was a sleek,
arrow-shaped yacht of not inconsiderable proportions.  Wow!  Whoever owns
that piece of equipment must be worth a few dollars, Lois concluded in
silent wonder.  Perhaps this little business might not do too badly if this
is the type of passerby it caters for.

Her husband and children were also interested in the approaching newcomer
as they angled their steps towards the area of the pier in which the narrow
stern seemed to be pointing.  The speed of the vessel slowed and with
effortless ease it slipped into dock.  A couple of smartly dressed crew
members jumped down to the wooden quay and securely tied the slim ship to
its berth.

So intent were the family in their contemplation of this beautiful seagoing
'lady' that they failed to notice her occupants, who had come out to stand
on the bridge and were just as studiously taking in the scene before them.
An incredulous shout overrode the bustling noises and a familiar voice
reached all the Kents' ears.

"I don't believe it!  Amazing!  Just amazing!"  The body that accompanied
the voice disappeared inside the bridge and quickly reappeared by the
gangplank which was being lowered to the quay.  "I get this really hot tip
that something big is about to happen here that nobody else has even got a
sniff of, and who do I find already on the job but Lane and Kent, the
hottest team in town."

"Jimmy!"  Clark called in almost shock to his friend who was now descending
the short distance to the ground.  "Jimmy, what are you doing here?"

James Olsen grimaced at the question as he walked up to his closest friend
and the two exchanged a swift hug and indulged in a little back patting.
"Same thing as you I suppose, wanting to be on the spot when he blows;
hoping to get some real good pictures and winning another Pulitzer."

Clark was shaking his head in puzzlement.  "He blows?!  Pulitzer?!  I don't
understand."

"Come on, CK, this is your old pal, Jimmy.  We never used to be in
competition and, if this is as big as I've been told, then there'll be
enough for all of us.  I'll even make a deal; you and Lois write the story
and I'll take the photographs.  They should be so spectacular I'll probably
win an award on those alone."

"Jimmy, will you please stop talking in riddles and tell us what brings you
here?"

"I think that Jimmy is trying to tell us that he's here to cover a pretty
big story."  Lois had walked up behind her husband and her svelte arm
snaked through his more muscular one.  "Like perhaps a volcanic eruption?"

"Yeah!  I knew it!  But aren't you guys a little out of your territory and
wasn't it a little dangerous to bring the kids along?"  The photographer's
eyes slid over the children that surrounded them, listening with close
interest to what the grownups were discussing.  The Kent kids were as sharp
as needles, which wasn't surprising when you considered who were their
parents.

Lois looked pointedly at her husband with a bright 'I told you so look'
then addressed their unexpected friend.  "First, Jimmy, we are not on a
'job'; secondly, if we are out of our territory then that's normally what
happens when taking a vacation and lastly, we didn't know until last night
that we might be in danger."  This last word was said with emphasis and her
hand tightened on Clark's arm.

Seeing how uncomfortable his buddy was feeling under his wife's accusing
stare, Jimmy decided to backpedal.  "Well, I'm not really certain just how
reliable my information is.  Maybe this 'Solvan' isn't set to blow right now."

But Lois would not be decoyed.  "Oh, so let me get this right, you came all
this way to an island that practically no-one has heard of, because you got
a call from a dubious source that there might be a mountain about to blow
its top sometime in the undetermined future?"

"Something like that," Jimmy suggested uncertainly, knowing Lois Lane
wasn't about to be fooled.

"I don't think so,"  Lois grumbled.  However, she was interrupted by her
husband who had spotted a small chance of deflecting the topic of
conversation.

"Speaking of method of transport," Clark waved his hand over the gleaming
white yacht now moored by their side.  He whistled long and low in
appreciation.  "You, Jimbo, must be doing a whole lot better than Lois and
me if you can afford a boat like this."

"I only wish, CK."  Jimmy looked rather enviously at the sleek shape then
raised his hand in greeting to the young Eurasian couple still standing
watching from the bridge.  "I hitched a lift from my friends, Roy and Hazel
Chen.  The Swallow belongs to them.  They're taking a cruise on their new
yacht, travelling through the islands."

Clark's eyebrows raised as he smiled at the unknown dark-haired pair.
"Your friends must be very well heeled to own something like that.  Moving
up in the world, Jimbo?"

"Hey, what can I say?  The guy's a fellow computer buff.  His company
developed the latest stage in artificial intelligence.  Made his fortune
practically overnight.  Now he just has to keep ahead of the game."

"Tough at the top," Clark said with just a hint of jealousy as his glance
followed Jimmy's  over the trim lines of the vessel.  He could have used
his super powers to gain money and position and yet, except for momentary
aberrations when he was occasionally overtaken by the green-eyed monster,
it never occurred to Clark to use his gifts for monetary gain.  Not his
super abilities.  He was perfectly content to use his writing talents to
make his and his family's lives as comfortable as possible and he was not
averse to using the 'skills' to help ease that life, but neither his nor
Lois' salaries could ever hope to attain anything like the vessel before him.

"Put the green-eyed monster back in his cage, sweetheart, and concentrate
on the important issues."  A whispered comment interrupted his thoughts.
"Like volcanic eruptions."

Turning his attention to his wife's beautiful face that was now showing
signs of worry and impatience, all thoughts of owning luxury yachts fled as
he tried to defuse the situation.  "Honey, we don't know that.  Sure, we
had a little incident last night, but when I checked everything was quiet
and according to the locals Solvan isn't acting any differently than normal."

"One local seems to think so, or he wouldn't have contacted Jimmy," Lois
reminded Clark.

Clark's head bowed to touch Lois'.  "You have a point there, honey.  So
maybe we should go talk to this guy."

"Oh no!"  The younger man stared in disbelief at his friends.  "I don't
even get time to unload my stuff off the boat and already you two are
stealing my story."

"No, we're not," Lois sounded indignant.  "I'm not interested in the story.
  I only want to know if my children are in danger."

"Oh yeah," Jimmy's voice was sceptical.  "Since when was Lois Lane not
interested in a scoop?"

"Since she became a concerned mother, Jimmy."  Lois answered with only a
smidgen of exasperation; she understood that Jimmy was not questioning her
parenting skills and he did have a point.  "Besides, a few moments ago you
were willing to share."

"Lois, I think this story belongs to Jimmy, but we do need to find out
what's happening.  So if you don't object, Jimbo, we would like to ask your
contact a few questions."

It was Jimmy's turn to look a little sheepish.  "Of course, I don't object.
  And my offer still stands.  I'm supposed to meet this guy at lunchtime in
the Papillon Hotel.  If you can find the place and you have nothing else
planned, then why don't you join us?  Meanwhile I'll unload my gear and say
goodbye to my friends."   He waved in the general direction of the yacht.

Lois giggled, "I think we can find the place.  Jimmy, it's the only hotel
on the island and the town isn't exactly difficult to find your way around.
  It's right up that hill."

Following Lois' pointed finger, James Olsen's face fell as he saw the steep
climb that awaited him, a task made tougher with the weight of the
photographic equipment he had to lug up the hill.

A sympathetic smile spread across Clark's face as he read his friend's
thoughts.  "Don't worry, Jimbo.  They do have a taxi service on the island.
  We'll head back to the square and send the car down for you."  An even
bigger smile lit his face as he imagined Jimmy's reaction to the ancient
taxi.  Then, gathering his slightly dissatisfied children to him (the kids
had been hoping for a tour and, if they had been very lucky, for a trip on
the Swallow), he arranged to meet James later and, shouting their goodbyes,
the group set off back into town.

*****

The family, after fulfilling their promise to Jimmy, finished shopping and,
as all agreed to feeling slightly peckish, they sauntered into the hotel
restaurant to partake of lunch; a meal which proved that the local chef
could hold his own with his more sophisticated brotherhood back in
Metropolis.  Surprisingly, the dining room had a number of other customers
and Lois reviewed her earlier estimation of the Kents being the only
holiday makers on the island.

Surreptitiously checking out the other clientele, Lois wondered if Jimmy's
source was present and if so which of the other diners he might be.  Two
older couples were sharing a table by the window, yet taking in their
dress, their travel literature and slightly bemused demeanour the
investigative reporter dismissed them as vacationers.

Hidden away in an alcove a much younger and obviously much in love couple
held hands and exchanged loving glances across their largely ignored meals.
  Lois quickly identified them as honeymooners; she well remembered that
encompassing emotion that shut out the rest of the world when first
embarking on a new, long life together.

Nearer at hand, a young woman sat alone awaiting the delivery of her order,
her nose buried deeply in a book.  The sleuth in Lois had noticed that Eva
Blanc had greeted the newcomer with pleased familiarity when she had first
entered the room and this fact led Lois to suppose that the woman was a
local.  She may also have decided that this was the contact, except that
Jimmy had distinctly stated that his contact was a 'he'.  For the moment
these were the only occupants of the restaurant and Lois quickly concluded
that the said source had not yet arrived.

While the steady ebb and flow of her children's colloquy with her husband
had played over her without intruding on her consciousness, the unfamiliar
tones of Philippe Blanc suspended her covert observations.  The man
welcomed them with the usual pleasantries and hopes that they had enjoyed
their lunch, but his continued conversation snagged Lois' complete attention.

"I hope you weren't overly upset by that little fire display last night.
The volcano every now and then likes to make its presence felt, but there
really is nothing to worry about.  It could be weeks before he explodes
again or he could let off some more steam tomorrow, but whichever it is
it's nothing out of the ordinary."

"But you have to admit that it's a pretty scary occurrence for those who
aren't used to volcanos," Clark suggested a little disapprovingly to his
host.  "It would have been nice to have had a warning instead of being
turfed out of bed in the middle of the night by a large explosion."

"You're perfectly right and I do apologise," Philippe did sound sincerely
sorry.  "I probably should have mentioned it, but you folks looked a little
frazzled last evening so I didn't think you would welcome the news about
occasionally erupting volcanos.  I never thought that Solvan would
introduce himself before I had the chance to talk with you."

"And you didn't inform us before we arrived on the island, in case we would
look for another holiday spot?" Lois interrogated with a hint of annoyance.

"Believe me, Mrs Kent, I understand your irritation and if I seriously
considered that anyone would be endangered by coming here I would warn
potential visitors."  A genuine look of contrition settled on the older
man's face, "But then so many people would miss out on the beauties and the
kinship that our wonderful island has to offer."

Under the gentle smile of the proprietor, Lois allowed herself to mellow.
"You're right about that, Mr Blanc.  Papillon is a lovely place and
everyone seems so friendly."

Memories of the warm welcome the family had received from the fishing
community on their morning stroll down by the shore and the locals'
relaxed, laid-back attitude soothed her anxieties and she began to accept
that her concerns might be somewhat magnified.

Philippe's smile embraced the whole family as he brightened, aware that the
Kents were ready to forgive his omissions.  "Please accept my sincere
apologies and my wishes that your time on Ille de Papillon will be memorable."

After a few further moments of chatting about his favourite subject,
Papillon,  the busy man was called away and the family settled down to
assess the suggestions for places to explore that the well-informed
islander had given them, the notion of volcanic catastrophe receding in
their minds at the prospect of more pleasurable pastimes.

While the family were deep in this discussion, Jimmy appeared in the
doorway and, spotting his quarry at a large round table in the centre of
the room, pulled up a chair to join his friends.  Not waiting for a hello,
he immediately launched into the conversation.  "Hey, CK, thanks a lot for
the help with the transport situation, though I must admit that for a while
there I wasn't sure whether the old buggy would make it up the hill.  But
don't tell me, it's the only taxi on the island."

"You got it, Jimbo.  Papillon is not exactly a hive of activity and, from
what we've been able to find out, the population of the island is pretty
small."  Clark visualised in his mind the layout of the land which he had
flown over the night before, but it had been dark with only the weird red
glow from Solvan lightening the night sky and he had probably not gained a
completely accurate picture.  "There's another small town on the north
shore, which serves as a port for the copra trade, which along with the
tuna fishing and tourism seems to be the main resource of the island.  Oh,
and according to our tour guide, who also owns this hotel, there are a few
small farms in the interior but we haven't seen any of this since we only
arrived yesterday . . . on vacation."

"Thank you for the travel log," Jimmy at last relaxed and beamed brightly
as he perused the menu, it had been some time since elevenses and he was
beginning to feel hungry.  Looking around at his few fellow diners he
commented wryly, "not exactly a bustling metropolis, eh?"

"But a perfect spot for a get-away-from-it-all break, which is just what
Clark and I need," Lois added.

"Except for the volcano," Jimmy reminded.

"Are you sure you have your facts right?  We've talked to some of the
islanders and none of them seem all that worried."  Clark was keen to allay
this anxiety so his family could enjoy the rest of their vacation.

"Well, my contact should be here any minute so you can ask him yourself."

However, it seemed as if this illusive personage was destined to remain a
mystery, because even after Jimmy had finished his lunch the guy had still
remained a no show.  It was becoming ever more probable that Philippe Blanc
was correct in his judgement of the mountain and, that by his non
appearance, the so-called expert was perhaps blowing smoke.

By now the children were growing impatient and fretting that they were
wasting time inside a stuffy hotel when they could be playing outside on
their very own beach.  Lois and Clark too decided that they had devoted
enough time to researching a hypothetical disaster.  They had come to the
island to distance themselves from just such an investigation, so leaving
Jimmy to check into the hotel while he awaited the arrival of his source,
the family returned to the bungalow above the bay.


*****

Chapter Three
Solvan's  Gifts


Being a concerned mother, Lois did not thoroughly approve of her
offsprings' desire to spend the afternoon on the shore.  It was the hottest
part of the day and the sun's rays were at their strongest.  She had of
course to concede to Clark's assertion that neither Joel nor Clara were
likely to be at risk from the dangerous UV rays, in fact quite the
contrary, they would probably benefit from the exposure.  This was not the
case with Julian and perhaps even Nathan.  Where Nathan was concerned,  for
the present they didn't have a problem, as the small boy had fallen asleep
on the way home, strapped into the child's seat behind his father.  Clark
had carried him into the house and the toddler was now napping in the shade
of his bedroom.

Julian, nonetheless was determined not to be left behind if his brother and
sister were allowed to venture on the beach and, with Joel and Clara ready
to sulk if they were forced to remain in the house because of their
brother's 'shortcomings,' an uncomfortable argument was building.
Fortunately a compromise was reached when Julian was allowed to join his
siblings with the stricture that he must wear a T-shirt, which was not to
be removed for any reason.  As soon as the exposed surfaces of Julian's
fair skin were liberally covered in sun-block by a solicitous mom, three
happy children went off to play.

Left alone at last, Lois and Clark stored away their morning purchases with
a little boost of super speed, and settled down for a comfortable afternoon
spent sharing each others' company on the veranda.  There were definite
advantages in having a super powered husband, Lois thought as she sipped
her deliciously refreshing cocktail and eyed her delectably handsome man
through lowered eyelashes.  Clark could keep a careful watch on his kids
from a distance and be with them in seconds should anything untoward occur.
  Meanwhile, they could spend a little interlude indulging in more adult
forms of enjoyment.  With that in mind, Lois slipped onto Clark's lap,
fully intent on resuming their interrupted actions of the morning.  Clark's
eyes darkened in appreciation as he felt his wife's slight form wriggle
onto his knee and lean warmly into his chest.  A small smile curved her
lips as she removed the glass from his hand and placed both their drinks on
the table by his side.

"I don't want anything to cloud this moment," she whispered in memory of
their very first night 'together.'  Then she leaned closer and placed her
lips softly on his.  Clark's arms tightened around her, deepening the kiss.
  He drew back for a few moments and scanned the surrounding garden and
woods, making sure they were alone, then with a final check on his
children, he gently floated them indoors.

But their love making was destined to be interrupted.  Wrapped in each
others' arms, lying atop of their bed with the white insect netting draped
around them as they began their ritual exploration of their bodies, they
were abruptly halted as Julian burst into the room.  His small chest was
heaving from the exertion of running up the beach path in the searing heat.

"Mom, Dad, you have to come quick," he rasped.  The boy was so distracted,
he was not as abashed as he normally would have been to find his parents in
this compromising position.  After a few more gulps of air he rushed on.
"Joel and Clara are fighting.  You have to come."

Forcing his mind and body back from the edge of a sexual precipice from
which he eagerly wished to jump, Clark deftly pulled the sheet up over
their state of dishabille and offered some words of comfort, striving to
keep the sound of frustration from his voice.  "Julian, calm down.  There's
nothing new about that.  Clara and Joel are always arguing.  Don't worry
about it. They'll soon forget about whatever riled them and be best friends
again."

"No, Dad.  They're not arguing.  They're fighting."  Julian's voice was
shrill with worry.  "With their fists and feet and everything.  They're
really fighting.  You have to come and stop them before they hurt each other."

Lois and Clark exchanged stares of mutual shock.  If Lois had been
momentarily surprised by the realisation that her husband had been taken
unaware by Julian's approach, that thought was speedily quashed by the
boy's disquieting revelation. While their children frequently indulged in
heated differences of opinion, they had never resorted to settling these
quarrels physically and both parents would have been quick to quell that
tendency.  In a blur too fast for the human eye to distinguish Lois and
Clark stood before Julian fully clothed.  Scooping up both wife and son in
his arms, Clark made for the beach.

The scene that greeted them left all three speechless.  The junior
protagonists were certainly knocking the stuffing out of each other.  Joel
had just tossed Clara to the ground and she had landed awkwardly some
distance from her opponent, a circumstance which did not deter her.
Uttering a primaeval scream, she launched herself back at her brother who,
not expecting such a speedy retaliation, was sent sprawling in the sand
with a screaming wildcat in the shape of Clara clinging to his neck.  The
two never broke contact nor paused for breath but proceeded to pummel the
living daylights out of each other.

Dismay, fright and anger fighting for supremacy in her brain, Lois clutched
her husband's arm for reassurance that she had not been transported to the
twilight zone and in a thready voice she gasped her command.  "Stop!"  Then
gaining control of her vocal cords, she spoke loudly.  "Stop this at once,
you two!"  But it was clear that both children were unwitting of her
presence.  "Clark, do something!"  She directed her orders to the man
standing nonchalantly by her side ... nonchalantly?!

  "What would you like me to do, honey?" he queried pleasantly.

Lois was speechless.  Their children were attempting to kill each other and
Clark was just lounging about with hands in pockets, surveying the
proceedings as if he were a spectator at a prize boxing match.

"Clark!!"

A loud thump punctuated the air as Joel's fist connected with Clara's chin
and sent her spinning once more into space.

"Oh, nice hit, Joel," his father praised.  "Come on, Clara, you're not
going to let him get away with that?"  Sending her taunting parent a look
that suggested  he would be next to feel the extent of her wrath, the small
female clambered from her place in the sand and dove back into the fray.
"That's my girl!" Clark shouted proudly, shifting allegiance  to encourage
his daughter.

Watching from the edge of the treeline, Lois and Julian stood frozen at
Clark's stupendously uncharacteristic reaction.  Surprisingly, the boy was
the first to recover and his small hand tugged at his Dad's arm as he spoke
questioningly.

"Dad?!  Are you okay?"

The tentative words freed Lois from her shocked trance and she rounded on
Clark irately.  "Stop them!  Stop them right now, Clark!"

"Why, honey?  It's not as if they can hurt themselves."

This piece of information, delivered airily, more than astounded Lois and
left her bereft of speech.  Besides, she was not totally sure of the truth
of the statement.  Perhaps both antagonists having some super powers
cancelled out the invulnerability bit.  And neither combatant was yet fully
indestructible.  Fear lent her strength and she rounded on Clark and
delivered a forceful hit right in the centre of his chest.  Superman looked
down in surprise at the balled fist still resting over his heart, regarding
the blow as a mere fly swat, yet she did gain his attention.

"Clark!  We do not allow our children to kill each other, even if that is
impossible.  End this . . . NOW."   And when he seemed reluctant to move
she pushed with all her strength and shouted.  "Superman, separate them . .
. NOW!!."

Superman's eyebrows rose almost to his hair line and he shook his head to
clear the ringing in his ears.  "Geesh, Lois, there's no need to shout.
You're standing right by me."  He pointed out helpfully and then with a
touch of peevishness, he added.  "You'll give me a headache if you're not
careful."  From the fiery look that Lois sent him, it seemed that a
headache might be the least of his worries.

"GO!"  An imperious voice commanded and a stiff arm pointed in the
direction of the brawling kids.

"Okay, Lois!  I'm going . . .  I'm going.  Don't get your knickers in a
twist!"

Walking forward, the Man of Steel did not immediately act but gazed
studiously at the entangled bodies, scientifically deciding how best to
obey Lois' stricture.  However, after a short pause for reflection, he
acted, literally lifting the two up by the scruff of their necks as if they
were playful puppies whose momma had grown tired of their squabbles.

Their momma, meanwhile, could not believe her eyes as she saw her erring
offspring, legs and arms flailing as they squirmed around in mid air, being
held effortlessly aloft by a very smug-looking pappa.  Lois ran towards the
group.

"Clark!  What are you doing?"

"What you asked me to . . .  separate them."  A puzzled hero answered his
obviously displeased wife.  "That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"But not like that!  Put them down!  This instant!"

Opening his hands, Clark dumped his recalcitrant children on the ground and
assuming his best super hero stance he asked, much aggrieved.  "Are you
happy now?!"  Sometimes there was just no pleasing the woman.

Both Joel and Clara appeared stunned by the unforseen interruption and
their less than gentle tumble to the sand, but as they recovered they began
to eye each other antagonistically once more.  Aware of this, Lois planted
herself firmly between the two and commanded in a determined voice.

"No more, either of you."  Adamantly her gaze passed from Joel to Clara and
thankfully both had the grace to blush shamefacedly.  "Are you all right?
Are you hurt?"  When she received sullen nods from both contestants, a
great weight of anxiety lifted from her shoulders.  Good!  Now perhaps, if
her children would remain passive,  she could address the problem of a
peculiarly weird husband.

An ancient memory of an apathetic Superman tugged at her mind.  Imbuing her
voice with a grave but resolute tone, she turned to the presently less than
heroic Superman.  "Clark, something is very wrong here."  She laid tender
hands on his crossed arms and, continuing to speak quietly for emphasis,
she strove to reach him through whatever phenomenon had possessed him.
"You are acting very strangely, sweetheart, and so are Joel and Clara."

"Kids fight, honey," he wheedled.

"Yes, I agree.  But our kids don't fight as if they were auditioning for
membership to one of Suicide Slum's gangs.  And you wouldn't normally act
as cheerleader."  As her words reached his senses, a deep red blush
suffused his face.  Great, he was taking this in, which meant that she now
had to convince him of the more difficult supposition.  "Clark, do you
remember years back when you became apathetic and later when your powers
were transferred to me . . . ."

"And the time when we were first married I lost control of my powers?"

"That's right."  Lois nodded encouragingly.  "Now I'm not sure what
happened here but I think that some outside force is making you and the
kids act a little crazily, so I want you to take Joel and Clara and go back
to the house.  Julian and I will have a look around down here and see what
we can find."  Momentarily it seemed as if he might disagree so she played
her trump card.  "Besides, Nathan is alone in the house.  Please, Clark,
trust me on this and just get out of here."

A disconcerted shrug was his only answer, however, he turned to the two
children still sitting on the sand.  "Come on, kids.  Let's go."  And, when
a mulish look settled on both upturned faces, Clark roughly yanked the
errant children to their feet.  "Hey, don't give me a hard time.  Your mom
is giving the orders here."  Then, almost dragging Joel and Clara in his
wake, Clark disappeared up the path, the three giving a very good
impression of children being sent unfairly to bed for some trifling
misdemeanour.

"What was that all about?"  Julian asked, emerging from his stunned silence.

"I'm not sure, Julian, but this happened before a long time ago and usually
red kryptonite was the cause."

The boy was quite aware of the results that kryptonite of both varieties
had on his father and his hybrid siblings, having heard all the tales and
being warned to guard against any future assaults by the toxic stuff.
Nevertheless, he was still puzzled.  "But why would there be kryptonite
around here?"

"That I don't know.  I don't even know if I'm right.  But it's up to us to
find out.  You start at that end of the cove and I'll take this."  Lois
illustrated with a wave of her hands.  "And search carefully, Julian,
because it's very important that we find whatever is doing this."

"What am I looking for?"  Although Julian had heard the tales, he had never
actually seen the dreaded rock.

"Believe me, you'll know if you spot it; it's a red crystal and it sort of
glows.  But if you see anything else unusual let me know.  We just don't
have any idea what we're dealing with."

Assured by her son's determined nod, the searchers set off to opposite ends
of the small bay and for a time silence reigned as both were engrossed in
their task.  Lois had almost reached the halfway point when an excited cry
caught her attention.  Looking up from her position on the beach, she could
not at first discern exactly where the call came from, Julian being nowhere
in sight.  Then an enthusiastic wave from deep within the vegetation that
bordered the edge of the path alerted her to Julian's position and as she
closed in on him, she could make out his words.

"I've found it, Mom, I think.  It's red, all right, but it doesn't glow
very much and it's black around the edges."

As he spoke, the boy held aloft a fist-sized rock which he eagerly handed
to his mother when she reached his side.  Studying the offending article,
Lois admitted that it didn't resemble the other specimens she had
encountered.  Dark sooty streaks covered the roughened surface and, so
occupied was she in her examination, she did not at first hear what Julian
was trying to say.

" . . . they were all right yesterday."

"I'm sorry, Julian,  I wasn't paying attention.  What were you saying?"

"This couldn't have been here yesterday."  Speaking slowly, as if he were
putting things together in his head, Julian continued.  "If this is what's
making Dad and the others act weird, then it just couldn't have been here
the other day.  We came down to the beach, remember, and everything was
fine.  Joel and Clara were perfectly normal."

Reviewing the past day's events, Lois agreed.  "So this arrived here either
during the night or this morning.  But who could have put it here and why?
No one knows that Superman is on the island."

"Maybe it came from Solvan," Julian suggested helpfully.

An arrested look crossed Lois' face then, throwing her arms around her
son's smaller frame, she exclaimed.  "Yes!  Of course!  It came from the
explosion last night.  That would explain its charred appearance.  This
rock has been inside a volcano."

"But Mom, volcanos are really hot inside.  Wouldn't it be more like . . .
ash?"

"Well, I'm not into science but I do remember Bernard telling us that
kryptonite is one of the densest minerals on the planet.  After all, it did
survive a journey through space and passage into Earth's atmosphere.  And
this doesn't resemble the untouched variety much."

"Do you think there's any more here?"

Another diligent search uncovered two other slivers of the offending rock,
or at least a facsimile thereof, except these specimens were even more
burnt and looked like something left over from a barbeque.  Nevertheless,
they were gathered in and carried up the path by the troubled pair.  On
reaching the house, Lois sent her son inside to fetch a particular
lead-lined box which the family, due to past uncomfortable encounters,
never travelled without, and when Julian returned with his cargo, the
embers of kryptonite were securely locked inside.

Now Lois and Julian could safely join Clark and the other children in
doors, and as Lois walked speculatively inside she wholeheartedly hoped
that her husband and kids had begun to recover from their exposure.  The
trio were found lounging silently around  the living room in varying states
of dejection.  No longer exposed to the red kryptonite, the worst effects
were receding, but it was clear that neither Clark nor the children were
back to their alert and sunny dispositions.

Returning from his studious contemplation of the ceiling, Clark announced
morosely, "I assume, from the need for the box, that you found kryptonite."

Well, if he wasn't exactly happy, he was at least cognitive.  "Yes, honey."
  Lois answered gently.  "At least I think so.  But it's so badly burnt that
I can't be sure."

"Burnt?!"  Clark's voice rose a couple of notches.

"Yes!  Almost to a cinder!  But Julian has a theory about that."

"Which is?"

"Well, we found this at the bottom of the path; in the bushes by the edge
of the sand . . .  you couldn't reach the beach without passing this by."

"And so?"

"And so, Clark, yesterday the kids played on the beach and everything was
normal."

"And today the Kryptonian branch of the family went a little crazy."  Lois
rolled her hand over encouragingly as Clark followed her reasoning.  "Which
means that 'this' appeared sometime in between."

"That's where Julian's theory comes in."  Lois was reluctant to continue.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"  Clark's instincts were racing ahead of
his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Lois plunged on.  "Julian thinks that it came from
Solvan.  In the explosion."

Three wide-eyed stares focussed on Lois and Julian and on the box that was
held tight against Lois' chest.

"Great!  Not only do we land on an island with a volcano," Clark was
perambulating about the room, his hands waving in the air, "we choose an
island with a volcano that has its own supply of kryptonite."

"That's pretty much what Julian and I think."

"And you're sure that it's red kryptonite."  Clark was clutching at straws,
hoping against hope that his family could  have just one uneventful
vacation.  "Let me take a look," yet, at the challenging glare sent him by
his partner, Clark rethought the matter.  "Not a good idea, eh?"

"Definitely not!  I'm not sure what this stuff is but it's staying locked
up tight where it can do no further damage.  I just wish that Bernie was
here to take a look at it."  With a wistful sigh Lois walked into the
kitchen and placed the box on the table.

Clark followed her quickly and the children shadowed their father.  "You
know, honey, that's not a bad idea.  I could take the box back to Star Labs."

"Oh, Clark."  An even more wistful sigh escaped her lips.  "We sorta
decided that you weren't going to be Superman."

"I was gonna fly back to Metropolis for a patrol in a couple of days
anyway, so I'll just move my plans up," Clark reminded her.  "And I did say
that 'Supes' would put in an appearance for emergencies." He used the
nickname he detested, hoping to lighten the mood.  "And I think, honey,
that this is an emergency."

Lifting the kettle, Lois proceeded to fill it with water and place it on
the stove; she felt in great need of some herbal tea to calm her nerves.
Actually, what she really felt in need of was a large scotch, but it was
too early in the afternoon and not in front of the kids.

"Maybe, Clark, what we really should be doing is packing up and all flying
back to Metropolis."

"Oh, Mom, no!"  Joel was the first to voice his objections.  "We just got
here and the island is . . . great . . . except for the kryptonite."

"I agree with Joel, honey.   Even though I hate to admit it, we can't just
fly off.  Now I know we could say that we contacted Superman when we got
worried about the volcano erupting, but according to everyone we've spoken
to that's just not gonna happen.  And Lane & Kent don't exactly have the
reputation of turning tail and running when things get a little tough."

"Way to go, Dad," Clara interjected and was immediately silenced by a
disapproving look from both parents.

"And, more importantly, honey, we just can't fly off leaving behind an
unknown and maybe plentiful supply of kryptonite."  The emergence of this
problem had obviously disconcerted Clark.  Over the past years his contact
with the dreaded mineral had become more infrequent and he had begun to
hope that the last remnants of his birth planet were now safely locked away
in the vaults at Star Labs.  To find an island polluted with the stuff (at
this moment Clark was prone to exaggeration)  was an extremely unwelcome
discovery.  "You'll see, it's only a matter of time before someone else
discovers it and it'll be on the black market in no time and every crook I
come up against will be wielding their own little souvenir of Papillon."

"Oh my, we are upset."  Lois' words might have been tinged with sarcasm but
her actions belied that sentiment.  She crossed to her agitated husband
and, pushing him down into a chair, began to massage his tense shoulders
while dropping a comforting kiss on a favourite spot behind his left ear.
"Maybe most of the stuff is still inside the volcano and I can't see anyone
fishing it out of there and maybe there isn't any more, we just don't
know."  Her fingers seemed to be having little effect on Clark, but then,
although she was trying to make light of the situation, it was a worrying
state of affairs.

"Come on, Lois, you don't really believe that."

"Yeah, Mom. Solvan didn't wait for us to come along before he spat up the
kryptonite."  Joel poured scorn on her attempt to console.

"Yeah, he's most likely been doing it for years and there's tons of the
horrible stuff around."  Clara added to the gloom.

Searching the dejected faces of Clark and his two 'super kids,' Lois
decided that, though the situation was disturbing, the three were still
clearly suffering from the exposure to the red K and she could not expect
to get an objective view from any of them.  Perhaps removing Clark from the
vicinity of Papillon for a time was no bad thing.

"Well, I don't think we should make any decisions until we find out a
little bit more about what we're dealing with here," Lois pronounced in
reasonable tones.  "And I agree, Clark, I think you should take the samples
back to Star Labs and let Bernie study them."

"Good!"  Clark quickly rose to his feet and turned to face his wife.  "And
I'll ask him if he has any theories as to how the stuff got here."  Now
that Clark had a plan of action he was more able to fight the mind-numbing
effects of the kryptonite and he realized he had a confession to make to
Lois.  "Because I think that we have to assume that there's more kryptonite
inside Solvan.  I didn't mention it, honey, mainly because it didn't occur
to me at the time, I just thought I was suffering from jet lag . . . but
last night as I flew over the open crater I stopped to have a look inside.
I felt kind of strange . . . light headed . . . mesmerised and without
realising it, I lost altitude.  After a minute, I sorta shook myself awake,
regained height and flew straight here.  And this morning when everything
was back to normal I kinda forgot about what happened. "

"Oh, Clark, why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it just didn't seem that important.  And we
hadn't found the kryptonite at that point, " Clark reminded her.  "I just
didn't suspect . . . ."

"Who would?"  Lois acknowledged her husband's point.  "I think the sooner
you get this back to Bernie the better."  And she lifted the box from the
table and placed it firmly into Clark's hands.

Super speeding into the bedroom, Clark retrieved and donned his
red-and-blue suit, and with a promise to his family that, barring disasters
he would be back in time for dinner, he flung himself at a speed that
defied the human eye into the sky.  He was in no mood to tarry.

*****

Left to their own devices for some time and, it being a few hours until
Lois needed to prepare dinner, the remainder of the family decided to take
a walk.  Lois' first instinct was to remain firmly in the safe confines of
the bungalow, but neither she nor her children were happy to hide away from
trouble and no one was content to spend any part of their vacation skulking
away indoors.  So, with a reminder to Joel and Clara that they must guard
against any aggressive feelings or indeed report any uncharacteristic
emotions that they might experience, the group set off for an afternoon
stroll.  Additionally, they would all have to diligently monitor Nathan's
demeanour as the small boy was much too young to understand or control any
change in behaviour.  There was, perhaps, no need to be anxious for Nathan,
as Lois suspected that in her younger son the human genes prevailed.
Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious.

An unspoken commitment to search for more rocks filled all their minds and
the children were soon burrowing around in the undergrowth which bordered
the path they strolled along.  While the kids diligently searched, Lois
allowed her mind to review the past couple of days, well aware that any
kryptonite would advertise its presence by the changes in Clara and Joel.

She wasn't happy about the prospect but felt it highly likely that there
were further deposits around and if that were so, it followed that Clark's
and the children's conduct might be subtly altered.  Which might explain
why Clark had experienced some unusual envy for the Chens' luxury yacht;
Lois had noticed and been more than a little surprised at his attitude.
Never before had she witnessed her husband's jealousy over opulent
possessions.  Long ago, he had been jealous of a few other suitors for her
affections, Superman included, and he jealously guarded his and his
family's privacy, but Lois was ready to swear that Clark didn't have an
acquisitive bone in his body.  Could Clark's abnormal manner down on the
dock have been the result of being on this island?

If that were so, then the sooner they could leave the better.  Yet
immediately as her mind assimilated this fact, a little derisive voice
inside her head told her that Clark was right; they couldn't just run away
and ignore what was left behind on this island.  Ideally, they should just
hire some people to come in and make a clean sweep of the land, but that
was impossible.  For one thing, they just didn't have the financial
resources.  And secondly, the number of persons that she and Clark could
trust with such an important task could be counted on the fingers of their
hands and as most of these were approaching the autumn of their years, they
could hardly be expected to climb all over a wild tropical island.  No, if
they were to dispose of the problem, again they would just have to rely on
Superman and his closest family.  Let's just hope that those members who
were influenced by the red rock could control the strange effects and,
heaven forbid, that there should be any of the green variety, she thought.

At that frightening realization, Lois stridently called her children back
to her side.  The thought of seeing her kids writhing in agony, as she had
in the past witnessed their father, scared the hell out of her.  Suddenly
the idea of skulking inside the safe haven of the house didn't seem so
distasteful.

"Come on, kids, we're going back."

"Geez, Mom, we just got started."  Joel's voice had taken on a whining note
that was not normally evident.  "What do you want to go back for?"

"Yeah, Mom, we'll be real careful and tell you if we feel weird."  Clara
added. her entreaty.

Julian understood his mother's dilemma.  He was aware that his siblings
were still suffering slightly from kryptonite exposure even though they
didn't quite themselves realise this.  However, he felt that the search for
more of the red rock was important too and voiced his opinion.  "Maybe we
should keep looking for now.  The more we find and make safe the better."
For emphasis he lifted the tube of aluminum foil he carried, Clark having
flown off with the lead-lined box.

"I don't know."  Lois was vacillating.  "You have a point, Julian, but if
we should find green kryptonite then it could be dangerous for Joel and
Clara."  Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she spoke, proving to her kids
that they were dealing with one very anxious Mom.

"Dad's come up against it a couple of times and it didn't kill him," Clara
reasoned.

"Your father is a grown man, Clara.  It might not take so much to hurt you
children."

"But we're your kids too, Mom.  We're half human, remember."  Her junior
super hero had apparently given this some thought.  "That's got to make a
difference, Mom."

Lois hoped wholeheartedly that this was so.  "You might be right, Joel, but
you don't know what you're up against.  Believe me, I've seen what green
kryptonite can do to Daddy and I don't ever want you or Clara and Nathan to
go through that."

"Maybe it will hurt us, Mom."  Joel had taken hold of his mother's hand
and, rubbing his thumb over it gently, he replied in grave tones.  "Then
it's better that we find out here . . . where you and Julian can get rid of
the rock and take good care of us."

When did her young son grow up and become so wise?  She was used to him
charging about the house, avidly playing computer games and watching TV
until she thought he would develop square eyes; bumping into furniture and
breaking crockery because he had not yet acquired precise control of his
abilities and leaving his toys and dirty clothes strewn about his bedroom,
which often resembled a bomb site.  But now as she returned Joel's earnest
gaze she recognised the warmth and understanding of his father.

A lump formed in Lois' throat as she contemplated the life that lay before
her children, all her children, because she knew without a shadow of doubt
that, super powered or not, Julian and Nathan would be involved in the
super heros' exploits.  All the wonderful things that they could do to help
the world but then, on the reverse side of the coin, all the horrors they
would encounter along the way.  And most importantly of all, if their old
friend and fellow time traveller H G Wells were to be believed, the
foundation of the future Utopia.  Hopefully she and Clark would be around
to help and guide them in this venture, just as Clark's parents, and to
some degree, her own parents were there for herself and Clark.

"Mom!  Mom, are you OK?"  Joel anxiously shook the hand he held.

Lois surfaced from her reverie to see four worried pairs of eyes regarding
her solemnly.

"What's it to be, Mom?  Do we go on or are we going back?"  Clara had
dropped the wheedling voice of earlier, her concern for her mother breaking
through the effects of the red K.

"I like to walk," Nathan announced, feeling he ought to let his mom know
his opinion.  "An' look for the pretty coloured rocks."

"Nathan, the rocks might look pretty but they're not nice," Julian
explained to his young brother.  "If you find any, you have to give them to
Mom or me right away.  They could hurt you."

The little boy nodded his head sagely at Julian's words.  "Yes, I know.
They's red and green.  An' you put them in that," and he pointed to the
foil in his brother's hands.  "Like a 'Santa' parcel."

"Yes, and then they can't hurt you or Clara and Joel anymore,"  Julian
finished.

Listening to the conversation, Lois concluded that she had been outnumbered
by the opposition.  Graciously she conceded defeat.  "All right, we'll go
on for now, but you all understand the plan if we find anything."

Lois received four decisive nods of assent and the little party continued
on their way, the children returning to their rummaging but this time with
the assistance of their mother.  But for all their diligence only one more
piece of kryptonite was discovered and that a very small charred briquette.
  Wrapping the rock in layers of foil, the family with more than a modicum
of disappointment retraced their steps.  By the evidence of the setting sun
it was clearly getting on towards dinner time and Dad would soon be home.

*****

Far away in Metropolis, a worried super hero paced back and forth in Dr
Klein's laboratory at Star Labs.  Even though it was late evening in the
city, Superman, knowing his old friend's workaholic nature, had visited the
laboratories first and had not been surprised to find the doctor deeply
engrossed in some experiment.  Nevertheless, Bernie had at once broken off
from his regular duties when he had learned of the reason for Clark's
unexpected visit.  Leaving the samples for analysis, Superman had proceeded
to patrol the city while the brilliant but now alarmed doctor examined the
charred pieces of rock.

The super hero had helped out at a major traffic accident, caught a purse
snatcher and returned the stolen article to a very shaken but grateful old
lady who agreed to be carried to the nearest ER unit for a check over, then
finally halted a getaway car and delivered the robbers to the police.  But
everyone he encountered was of the same opinion: Superman was not his usual
friendly self.  Over time, the Man of Steel had unbent a little with the
citizens of his chosen home, and though he still guarded his right to
privacy, he was more approachable than in the early years.  On this
particular night the folks he met would have described his manner as
distracted and though he carried out his rescues with his customary
efficiency Superman's mind was clearly on other matters.

Whenever he felt he had given Bernard enough time to study the rocks, Clark
returned post-haste to the lab, both eager and anxious to hear of the
scientist's findings.  Entering the darkened room, the only lights ablaze
were centred on the doctor's lab bench, Clark could tell by the pained
expression on Bernie's face, pinpointed in the glare of the flourescent
light, that the news wasn't good.

Purposefully walking forward, he drew the preoccupied man's attention by
demanding more bluntly and gruffly than his norm. "OK, Doc, what's the
verdict?"

"Superman!  Don't creep up on me like that!  You scared me half to death,"
Bernard squeaked in fright, then turned his gaze away from his friend,
continuing to study the piece of rock beneath his microscope.  "You know,
you're right about these rocks.  This is Kryptonite of the red variety."
He sat back in his high chair and took the sample in his hand, on the brink
of holding it up for inspection.

"Hey, be careful with that, Doc.  I'm just getting over my last exposure
and I can tell you that I didn't exactly cover myself with glory.  Lois
wasn't amused."

"I'm sorry," and Bernie sheepishly and hurriedly placed all the tiny
samples into a lead case and locked them safely away.  "Wives, huh!  Can't
live with 'em; can't live without 'em."  He lifted a glass beaker filled
with a clear liquid and toasted their respective wives.  "Lois and Beth!"

Clark grinned slightly at the doctor's feeble attempt at humour, then his
attention returned to the seriousness of the situation.  "Bernie!  What did
you discover?"

"Yes, of course, to the point!  They are kryptonite but these rocks have
been subjected to extremely high temperatures, so you're probably right
about them coming from inside the volcano.  It's amazing!  We always knew
that kryptonite was almost indestructible, but that it can withstand such
heat without loss of density is remarkable."

"Well, it's still creating havoc with my family," the younger man revealed
morosely.

"The kids too!  I guess that figures, after all, they do share your
Kryptonian genes.  And something else about these particular rocks
surprises me; the heat has actually increased the amount of radiation they
exude."

"That explains why such a small piece should have such a big effect.  How
long do you think it's been there?"  Clark was almost afraid to ask, yet
they had to know the truth.

"I can have the samples carbon-dated but that's going to take a while.  And
that  would only tell us how old the meteorite was," he added somewhat
absentmindedly.

"So take an educated guess, Doc?"

"Hmm."  Bernie remained silent for a second, considering his answer.
"There have been no reports of kryptonite of any colour falling from the
sky in recent years.  Unless they fell in very remote parts of the world
and we just haven't heard about them.  That's not entirely impossible.  You
know, some sparsely populated areas do still exist in this world . . . ."

"Bernie!"  Clark brought the doctor back on track.  "That idea doesn't
exactly fill me with joy, but could we concentrate on these pieces?"  He
stretched a hand to indicate the lead box.

"Yes, indeed!  But I was trying to illustrate a point," said the slightly
aggrieved doctor, but recognising the extent of his friend's worries, he
continued quickly.  "It's my opinion that the kryptonite has been on Earth
as long as you."

"I thought you might say that."  Clark's brow furrowed with the conception
of pending disaster.

"We know your planet exploded, and we know that bits of debris from the
explosion followed you to Earth, probably caught up in the wake of your
spaceship.  Now I had always assumed, and I'm not sure why I did because
the other is just as plausible. . . . "  Bernard spotted the exasperation
flash across the other man's face and hurried on with his deliberation.  "
. . . assumed that your ship landed from a lateral orbit, yet there's
nothing to say that had to be the case.  If my theory is right then . . .
."  Crossing to his computer console, closely followed by an attentive
Clark, the doctor speedily brought up a globe of Earth as seen from an
orbiting satellite and configured the supposed route of the little space
craft as it made its way into Earth's atmosphere to Kansas so many years
ago.   ".... if you tilt the flight path from south to north diagonally."
Here Bernie rotated the globe on his screen and as the simulated line
tilted he sat back in his chair and pointed to the monitor.  "Hey, Presto!!
  The island of Papillon lies directly in the flight path.  My guess is that
the kryptonite which followed in the wake of your ship dropped on the
island and straight into the jaws of the volcano."

Momentarily, Clark studied the screen, unwilling to accept the dread
findings.  Still denial was scarcely going to help the situation.  "And now
that the volcano is threatening to erupt, the kryptonite is being sprayed
all over the island."

"Do you know how much there is?"  Klein was almost afraid to ask.

"No!  So far that's all we've been able to find."

"Then maybe you're overreacting," Bernard tried to console the super hero.

A distraction occurred as a plainly unamused Beth Klein strode into the
laboratory, clearly in search of her errant husband.  "Bernard, I know that
you are nicknamed 'the absent-minded professor,' but I don't appreciate
being stood up at a restaurant on my birthday."  She halted her tirade as
she recognised her husband's visitor.  "Superman, what brings you here?"
And consciously lowering her voice, "I thought you were in the South
Pacific.  I hope that there's nothing wrong with the children."

Beth, having attended Lois at every one of the Kent children's births, with
the exception of Julian, regarded them as her own special family.

"Not exactly!  But we do have a problem.  And I'm very sorry.  It's my
fault that Bernard was distracted and left you stranded.  And I'm glad
you're here because I'd really like to talk to you both about this."

A suppressed grin almost threatened to overcome the female Doctor Klein as
she reflected that Lois' babble habit had eventually rubbed off on Clark.
Yet, understanding that he was functioning under considerable stress, she
pushed the amusing thought aside and invited him to sit with her and
unburden himself of his worries.  For the next hour Superman regaled the
Kleins with what had occurred since they had arrived on Papillon and his
consternation about this previously unknown cache of kryptonite plus his
apprehension regarding the effect it was having on his offspring.

Both the doctors' first instincts had been to return with Superman to the
island to examine the kids but, as the children seemed to be suffering more
mental than physical trauma and, as Superman was not really supposed to be
on Papillon, it was decided that a visit could be postponed until such time
as when he or the children got physically sick.  A prospect that they all
prayed would never happen.

There was one brighter spot in the discussion when Beth reminded her
husband of the device he had been trying to perfect which, if  proved to be
operational, would ease the family's dilemma.  Happily, the ingenious
inventor went to fetch his latest gizmo and spent the next few minutes
enthusiastically demonstrating its capabilities.

Clark swiftly learned how to work the machine and, deducing that his family
would be anxiously watching the skies for his return, he collected the
small package and the lead box, flying off to Papillon with a thank you for
the providential gift and a promise to keep Bernard and Beth up to speed on
the state of health of himself and the children.

*****

Once back on the island, Clark with his family settled down to an extremely
subdued dinner.  Lois and the kids listened carefully while he reviewed all
that Bernard had been able to glean from the charred rocks and the doctor's
supposition of how and where they had landed on the island.  In return they
had told him of their mildly successful search for more of the dreaded
stuff.  They also related their thoughts on what their next course of
action should be; that they should remain on Papillon and try to make the
most of their vacation.  Meanwhile they could keep a lookout for other
pieces of the crystal while those family members unaffected would very
carefully keep watch on the others.  Reluctantly, Clark admitted that he
had arrived at much the same conclusion and so it was decided that for the
present the family should not leave Papillon.

Now that the resolution to remain on the island was made, Clark fetched
Bernard's latest invention and with a flourish he unveiled the small
electronic contraption which looked like a miniaturized Geiger-counter and
indeed was a modified and updated version of the machine that had been
tuned into the special radiation emitted by kryptonite.  This device,
allied with Clark's x-ray and telescopic vision, thankfully lessened the
hazard that the island posed.  Joel's powers in this department were
growing stronger but were still too inconsistent to be relied on totally;
however, his parents knew that the young super hero would do his very best
to help contain the problem.

By the time the children went to bed the whole family had begun to take a
more optimistic view of the situation and Lois declared to her offspring
that this was just another obstacle that the Kent family were sure to
surmount.  Her brave facade, however, began to wilt as the two grown-ups
cleared away the supper things and shortly after followed their children's
path to bed.

Propped up on her pillows, Lois' unseeing gaze stared through the window
into the far distance of the moon-silvered ocean.  How could their island
paradise have degenerated into a poisoned garden?   She sighed audibly as
Clark came from the bathroom, his hair glistening wetly, and drying his
body with a large white towel at normal speed.  He regarded his wife with a
mixture of loving concern and . . . lust, which he determinedly stomped on
for the moment.

"Are you unhappy with our decision, sweetheart?  Because if you are I can
still fly us all home right now.  You only have to say the word."

Lois' attention turned to her husband.  "No, I think we made the right
decision.  There would be too many questions to answer otherwise and there
is the question of the kryptonite.  I accept all that; I don't particularly
like it but I'm not prepared to run away from the problem.  Lane and Kent
don't run from trouble."  Her chin firmed at this assertion but she
couldn't suppress another sigh.  "I just wonder if we're jinxed.  I mean,
would it be too much to ask to have one vacation when we didn't encounter
mad criminals or relics of a dead planet?"

"No, honey.  I understand exactly what you mean."  Clark finished towelling
himself and slipped into bed beside her, arranging the netting around them
and very pleased that Lois' worries had been so quickly dealt with.
"However, I have other things on my mind tonight.  Now where were we before
we were interrupted this afternoon?"  He smiled seductively as his arms
slid around his wife.

"Wait, Clark."  Lois' hand on his chest stopped his romantic approach.  She
was not completely averse to his attentions but some concerns still
lingered.  "There's something we have to discuss first."

A disappointed look descended on Clark's face but he reined in his
frustrations and attended to Lois' misgivings.  "What's bothering you, honey?"

"The kids!  Or rather Joel and Clara's reaction to the red kryptonite."
Lois twisted in the bed to face her love.  "Clark, in the past that stuff
has made you lose control of your powers, transferred them to me or made
you apathetic."

"Sorta like today."  Clark had the grace to blush.

"Yes!  But it has never made you aggressive."  Desperation tinged the
worried mothers's voice.  "It was almost like the kids were bent on killing
each other."

"Lois!  I think that's a little strong."  He hurried along as he saw her
attempt to interrupt.  "However, it bothered me too so I discussed the
situation with Beth and Bernard and we reached some conclusions."

"Which are?"

"Lois, when I first encountered red kryptonite it was at a very emotional
time for me.  Scardino was hanging round you like a bad smell and it made
me so jealous . . . angry even.  I was so mixed up with all the new
feelings I was experiencing that probably seeing Dr Frisken was no bad
thing.  I remember being in her office and getting increasingly
uncomfortable with the pointed questions she kept asking me.  Lois, I was
so mad I punched a hole in her wall and kicked over her couch and then I
found the kryptonite.  It had been taped to the underside of the couch, and
when I thought she had planted it I was ready to strangle her.  But then I
thought, what the heck; what did it matter anyway?  Then I threw the rock
out of her window, broke the glass too."  Clark lapsed into silence as he
contemplated that far off time, unaware that his wife was carefully
studying him.  Lois had been mindful for some time of the happenings of
that period but she had seldom heard such raw emotion raging in his tone.
After a moment's contemplation Clark went on.  "Maybe I subconsciously used
apathy to suppress the aggression.  Lois, I have spent my entire life
learning to control my temper, knowing that if I ever struck out in anger
just what irreparable damage I could do . . . ."

"But the children haven't learnt that control yet."  Lois finished his
thought.  "And there's another thing.   As Joel pointed out this afternoon,
they're my kids too which means they have my genes mixed in there
somewhere.  And I never have been very good at controlling my temper."

This had been Lois' constant fear for a long time; that the super powers
allied to her volatile nature would prove to be a combustible combination.
Yet her anxieties had always centred on her highly strung daughter never on
Joel, who so much resembled his father in every way.

"Lois, that's not true.  You've mellowed a lot in the past years and you
had good reason to be feisty when you were a kid."  Clark was quick to
reassure.  "Besides, did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you get mad?"

Having verbalized their troubling ideas, Clark's feelings were once again
and with greater insistence turning to more sexual matters.  He seldom
could resist expressing his deep love for Lois in the physical worship of
her body and since arriving on this exotic paradise his sexual appreciation
for her had increased tenfold.  Was it the sun and the sand; the knowledge
that they had all the time in the world to be together or just the skimpy
clothes they were wearing in the island heat?  Whatever was affecting him,
his libido had gone into overdrive . . . and there were so many
interruptions.  Still, he wasn't about to analyse the reasons for this
phenomenon but he did intend that they enjoy it whenever they could.

"Clark, how can you think of that right now?"  Lois was tempted to giggle
but she was also exasperated by her husband's obvious train of thought.

"Easily, honey, quite easily when I'm with you.  And," Clark raised himself
on his elbow and pointed through the window, "what could be more romantic;
a tropical moon; a sleepy lagoon and you."

"Clark Kent, sometimes you are so . . . corny!"

"Funny, Lois!  Very funny!"

But further deliberation was cut off by the exploration of two pairs of
lips eagerly seeking the other and for the present all thoughts of
kryptonite were forgotten.

*****

Chapter Four
Strange Behaviour

A peaceful night and a glorious morning had calmed the Kent family's frayed
nerves and next day found them cheerfully picnicking on their own private
beach; a beach now free of all dangerous geological deposits.  The whole
family had enjoyed an energetic swim in the fantastically clear ocean
followed by a riotous game of beach football and were now relaxing in the
gentler heat of the forenoon sun.  Thoughts of yesterday's dread findings
were not wholly abandoned but, for the present, they had been relegated to
the recesses of their minds in a determined effort to enjoy the vacation.

Young Nathan, not content to nap, was sitting a little way off from the
others, his well-rounded bottom plumped firmly down on the warm sands and
his concentration firmly rooted on his prized stash of marbles.  This was
Nathan's latest passion.  Ever since he had helped his grandmother with a
little spring cleaning and had discovered his Grandpa Jon's boyhood
collection, Nathan had been captivated by the bright glass baubles.  As
soon as the adult Kents had assured themselves that the toddler understood
that the attractive balls were not to be eaten, the small boy had fallen
heir to the treasure.

Now he sat with the coloured glass balls spread out around him while he
picked each one up and dropped it with a resounding plop into his canister;
he loved the sound they made and giggled with each solid drop.  Finally, he
came to his two newest acquisitions; Grandpa Jon would be real pleased and
wasn't he lucky that Mommy had made them look for those horrible rocks and
he'd found these pretty marbles just lying around.  'Course, these weren't
the things they'd been looking for; Mommy had said the rocks were green and
red and when they'd found a piece of the stuff he'd seen that it was all
jagged and dull and covered in soot, while his finds were yellow gold and
shiny and almost round and glowed in the sun.

And he had meant to tell someone; he didn't mean to keep it a secret, but
everyone had been so upset yesterday and acting really weird.  Joel and
Clara had actually knocked the socks of each other . . . and Daddy . . .
well, Daddy just hadn't seemed like Daddy anymore.  And not like Superman
either.  'Course, Daddy wasn't meant to be Superman on this trip, but
Nathan wasn't quite sure if he was meant to be the way he was yesterday
either.  Mommy didn't seem too happy about it and she said it was all the
fault of these nasty rocks.  Thank goodness they'd found them and locked
them away in the special box and things seemed to be back to normal this
morning.

Nathan held the two amber balls in his chubby little hands and stared in
wonder as he held them up to catch the light.  He decided to show his new
treasures off to Julian.  Julian always listened to what he had to say and
looked out for him.  Not that Joel and Clara didn't do the same, but they
were developing the 'powers' and were pre-occupied with learning to control
them.  At least, that's what Gramma Martha had told him, though Nathan
wasn't quite sure what 'pre-occupied' meant.  Did it have something to do
with the faraway and frightened look he sometimes saw on his brother's and
lately his sister's faces?  Nathan hoped he wouldn't get the 'powers' if it
gave you 'pre-occupied' and definitely not if it made you do bad things
when these rocks were around.

Having reached the decision to tell Julian about what he'd found, the small
boy closed the lid on the rest of the marbles and pushed himself up from
the ground, wrinkling his toes in the sand and carefully making sure he
didn't drop the articles in question.  His attention, however, was snagged
by a movement in the ocean, and, pointing to the sparkling water, he called
to his drowsing parents.

"Mermaid," he squealed in awed tones, his toddler's mind equating the
beautiful creature with one of his favourite videos.  His new marbles
forgotten for the moment, he deposited them in the pocket of his shorts.
"Mommy, it's a mermaid."  And he crossed to stand in front of his parents.

Rousing herself from her contented stupor, Lois raised herself on an elbow
and turned her attention to what had caught her son's notice in such a
surprising manner.  And indeed there was someone immerging from the blue
lagoon.  Like Aphrodite rising from the waves, the figure waded through the
gentle swell and as it approached the shoreline, Lois could distinguish
that it was female . . . and indeed a very lovely female, dressed in a very
white and very skimpy swimsuit with a colourful scarf tied sarong-like
about her curvaceous hips.  The figure was also vaguely familiar.

"Clark!  Clark," Lois hissed, trying to attract her husband's attention.
"We have company."

"Excuse me," came the languorous reply, Clark not quite wanting to give up
his delicious daydreams of the past night spent in his wife's very
passionate arms.  "What, honey?"  But, recognising the faint note of
curiosity and surprise in Lois' tone, with a reluctant effort he quashed
his sexy visions and, sitting up, turned to search the expanse of beach.

The visiting mermaid had now reached the dry sands and was striding on
legs, very long legs, up the beach towards the little group.

"Hi," the stranger called to the family.  "I hope you don't mind the
intrusion, but I noticed you from the yacht, and the water looked so
inviting that I thought I might swim over to say hallo.  I'm Hazel Chen."
Her announcement was accompanied by a dazzling smile.  "We almost met
yesterday at the docks."

Behind her, anchored some way out in the bay, the Kents spied the
streamlined form of the Swallow.   The family scrambled to their feet as
their caller reached them but as none of the others seemed ready to speak,
Lois took the lady's proffered hand and smiled a cautious welcome.

"Hello, I'm Lois Kent."  That unusual introduction surprised her husband as
Lois normally preferred to introduce herself as Lois Lane, unless she was
dealing with people associated with her offspring.

At least, it would have surprised her husband had he been capable of
cognitive thought.  Unused to Clark's reticence in welcoming a prospective
guest, Lois directed a searching glance at her husband, who was happily
oblivious of her study.  Clark was leering.  Leering!  Clark Kent didn't
leer, but as she surreptitiously examined him she had to reluctantly admit
that it was a definite 'leer.'  She had been on the receiving end of too
many of these looks from men she considered 'sleaze balls' to deny it.  But
Clark didn't do that sort of thing.

Yesterday there was nonchalance and now there was . . . leering.  What was
happening here?  And whatever was next?  They'd already cleared the area of
kryptonite but Clark was still showing signs of very unusual behaviour.
And what was more, Lois didn't like this particular manifestation one bit.

Pushing a stirring of jealousy and distaste aside, Lois spoke tersely.
"Clark, aren't you going to say hallo?  Mrs Chen has just swum in to visit
us, the least you can do is say hallo."

With a conscious effort, Clark tore his eyes away from contemplating the
perfect body, revealingly displayed in the wet swimsuit and the colourful,
clinging silk sarong.   Somewhere in his preoccupied brain he noted the
edge in Lois' voice and out of habit he answered his wife's unspoken
warning, belatedly recalling his manners.  "Yes, of course, forgive me, I'm
Clark Kent and these are our children, Joel, Julian, Clara and Nathan.
Please, won't you join us."  He gestured to the blanket that was spread out
over the sand.  "We're about to have lunch; nothing very exotic, just
sandwiches and fruit but you're welcome to share."

"Thank you, that would be very nice, but actually I thought that you all
might like to join Roy and me on the Swallow for lunch.  I noticed that you
were a bit disappointed not to look over her yesterday and I thought I
could make amends."

At her suggestion the children became very animated, anxious to accept the
invitation.

"Oh please, Mom, Dad, can we?"  Julian asked politely yet eagerly.

"Cool!"  That from Clara; everything good in Clara's world was described
that way.

"Pretty mermaid!"  It seemed that Nathan concurred with his dad's
estimation of Mrs Chen.

Joel, however, hadn't spoken, which was strange and Lois shot him a quick
look.  A startled expression had transfixed young Joel's face as he took in
the vision before him.  Lois had to admit that the view was stunning.  Long
black and shining tresses hung down to Mrs Chen's waist . . . a waist that
was unnaturally tiny.  Whereas all her other curves were more than
adequate.  And the face that graced this perfect physique was that of a
dusky island maiden, with almost black almond-shaped eyes above beautifully
sculpted cheekbones and a full, smiling mouth.

At last Joel found his voice and addressed the object of his adoration
reverently.  "You're very kind, Mrs Chen.  I'm sure my family would be
honoured to accept your invitation."

Lois stared aghast at her first born, fervently wishing she hadn't asked
the question; what next?  Geesh, Clark had competition in his admiration
for this woman . . . his eight-year-old son.

Mrs Chen bestowed a sparkling smile on her young admirer and held her hand
out to him.  "That was very prettily said," and as she shook Joel's hand
gently she looked towards his parents.  "And if your mother and father
agree, I should be honoured to entertain you."

Did Lois detect a sultry smile sent from beneath dropped eyelids towards
the adult  male Kent?  Yes, there it was, that look of appreciation; the
shimmer of awareness that said that this woman found Clark intriguing.
Often, in the past, Lois had to deal with women who found her husband
attractive, and Hazel Chen was clearly displaying all the symptoms of the
gooey-eyed cheerleader, but never before had Lois had to contend with her
husband returning the look in spades.

"That's very kind of you, Mrs Chen, but I'm sure you don't want to be
bothered with four noisy children running all over your lovely boat."  Lois
answered with barely concealed exasperation,  prepared to use any excuse to
distance Clark from this femme fatale, even though she was the recipient of
five very disgruntled gazes.

"Please, Mrs Kent, we've been at sea for days and the Swallow is Roy's new
toy and, much as I think she's a beauty,  I'd love some fresh company.
You'd be doing us both a favour; Roy will have the pleasure of showing off
his pride and joy and I'll adore spending time in a conversation that
doesn't include anything nautical."  She shrugged apologetically for her
lack of appreciation.  "And my name is Hazel."

Lois found herself responding to the heartfelt plea against her better
judgement, but she made one last attempt to ward off what she was praying
would not be a catastrophe.  "What about the sandwiches?"  Even that
sounded feeble to her own ears.

"Lois, we can eat sandwiches any day of the year."  Clark's tone of voice
left her in no doubt as to what he thought of her prevarication.  "And it'd
be churlish to refuse such an invitation."  He turned his attention back to
the delectable Mrs Chen and bathed her in one of his sunshine smiles.  "My
family would love to come aboard, Hazel, and please call me Clark and my
wife is Lois."

Watching the woman almost melt under the heat of Clark's grin, Lois found
herself on the verge of a mixture of anger and panic, yet she forced words
passed the lump that was forming in her throat.  "Yes, that's me, good old
Lois . . . wife . . . mother . . . award-winning investigative journalist
and part-time editor and not exactly the best of sailors, I mean the boat
trip here wasn't exactly a picnic for me . . . . "

Lois felt Clark's shocked stare fasten on her face.  This was the time
first he'd heard that she suffered from sea-sickness and she certainly
hadn't mentioned it when they'd discussed a fishing trip in a much smaller
craft.   But still, he completely believed her; it wasn't the first time
she'd kept things from him.   Lois assuaged her niggling conscience by
telling herself she was only exaggerating a little; boats really weren't
her favourite mode of transport and the thought of spending time on that
particular boat gave her a very nauseous feeling.

But why should Lois feel so threatened?  Wasn't she used by now to weird
things happening to her family?  Except Clark had never looked quite that
way at another woman before now and Joel normally thought of the opposite
sex, apart from the members of his family, as creatures from another planet.

"The Swallow has very efficient stabilisers, Lois," Hazel was quick to
reassure.  "Besides, the sea is dead calm.  I doubt that sea sickness will
be a problem today."

Of course, Lois could see that was a truthful statement; the surface of the
bay was like a clear blue mirror.  Even nature was conspiring against her.

"Please, Mom . . ."

"Just for a little while, Mom . . ."

"Come on, Lois, it'll be good."  Clark backed up his children's requests.

"And if you do feel unwell, we can bring you straight back," the female
temptress promised.

With this final assurance from her prospective hostess, Lois gave up on her
party pooper attitude.  Lois Lane didn't run from a fight and besides, she
could get the better of a mere child like Hazel Chen with one hand tied
behind her back.  She just wished that the metaphorical rope wasn't made of
kryptonite.

"Oh, okay then," Lois returned with a sheepish smile.  "But do we have to
swim to get there?"  She ended lamely.

"Oh no!  They're just waiting on my signal and they'll send the launch
over."  And with those words Hazel unwrapped the scrap of silk from around
her body and waved it high above her head.

The arch of the stretched body displayed Hazel's delectable figure to full
advantage and Lois noticed with a sinking feeling that Clark's gaze
focussed with rapt appreciation upon the sight.  Whatever had she let them
in for?

Even without super vision those on the shore saw the answering signal and
settled down to get to know each other while they awaited their transport,
Lois appearing to be the only one of the party that wasn't enthusiastic
about the coming trip.

*****

The visit to the Swallow lived up to most everyone's expectations and even
Lois had to admit that apart from a few flirtatious exchanges both Hazel
and Clark behaved themselves.  A few pleasant hours were spent in viewing
the yacht's obvious attractions and if only the hostess had been a little
less attractive the visit would've been a resounding success.

Roy Chen proved to be a studious but unassuming young man who was devoted
to the two ladies in his life; his wife and his boat.  And Lois would swear
that he was completely oblivious to the undercurrents that were passing
between his wife and his extremely handsome male guest.

Or were the hidden suggestions a figment of Lois' vivid imagination; not
really there?  But she was a first-class journalist; someone who dealt with
the facts, she didn't imagine things.  No one could accuse Lois Lane of
paranoia, could they?

Lois was beginning to give herself a hard time when Julian sidled up to his
mom as she stood by the rail of the ship, supposedly viewing the scenic
panorama of the island while covertly keeping a close eye on her husband
and his new 'friend' as they shared an animated discussion on the merits of
International Cuisine.

"What's up with Dad?" came the strained whisper as Julian watched a
possessive hand being placed on his Dad's arm.  "What is he doing?"  The
boy's disapproval increased as Clark laughed warmly at something Hazel had
said.  "Is it still the red kryptonite?"  His question was desperate,
willing to accept any excuse for his father's strange behaviour.

A trill of laughter spilled across the deck towards the concerned mother
and son and Clark's deeper, huskier voice could be heard as he described a
more adventurous meal that he had shared with an Aboriginal family while
back-packing across the outback of Australia.

Snaking an arm around Julian's slight shoulders Lois sighed audibly.  "I do
hope it's the kryptonite, but she is a 'babe,' don't you think?"

There was a moment of silence as Julian considered the lady draped over his
father's arm.  "She's all right, I suppose, but you're much prettier, Mom."

His direct gaze looked up into her face and she noted unconsciously that he
no longer had so far to look up.  He had grown so much in this last year.
Both her elder sons were tall for their age, but Julian was built on much
more slender lines than Joel.

Lois' arm tightened round her son.  "Thank you, Julian."

"And it's not like Dad can do anything really wrong, not with his shadow
sticking to him like glue."  The last statement was accompanied with a wry
smile and he gestured with his chin at his brother who was determinedly
inserting himself between the two.  "Joel's making just as big a cake of
himself as Dad."

< Now why hadn't I thought of that?>  Lois reflected and for the first time
a laugh brightened her troubled spirits at the sight of Joel attempting to
usurp his father's place at this siren's side.  "It has to be kryptonite,"
she announced with conviction.  "Because under normal circumstances Joel
would give a female like Hazel Chen a wide berth.  You're very smart,
Julian."  And she re-enforced her words with a hug.

A delightful blush spread over Julian's fair skin as they exchanged grins,
only to be replaced by a worried frown.  "But we cleared the beach
yesterday and Solvan hasn't erupted since.  Does that mean there's
kryptonite here on the Swallow?"

"I hope not, Julian, because the next question is how did it get here and
why; and do the Chens know about kryptonite and who Superman really is?"

"Mom!"  An exhilarated cry broke the tension and Clara came running from
the bow of the yacht, followed by the Swallow's owner, who was shepherding
Nathan carefully along the deck.  "Mom, Roy says there's a school of
dolphins around the point and he was swimming with them this morning and he
says he'll take us swimming too, if it's all right with you and Dad."  Her
words tumbled out in excitement.  "Please say yes.  It would be the very
best thing . . . to swim with the dolphins.  Dad, you'd love it too."

Clark pushed himself up from the deck-lounger he'd been resting on and,
extricating himself with some reluctance from Hazel's slender arm, caught
his happy daughter as she launched herself at him.  On many of his sorties
around the world Superman had often plunged into the aquatic animals' world
and he'd shared many happy hours in the company of this wise and caring
species.  It didn't surprise him that his animal-loving daughter would want
to share this joy.  However, he wasn't totally ignorant of the fact that
Lois wasn't quite so enamoured of this time spent with the Chens and though
he wasn't sure why, he wasn't prepared to antagonise his little tornado by
stretching out this visit any longer.

"You're right I would love it, princess," he agreed as he hoisted her to
his shoulder, "but we've been here too long already and Uncle Jimmy's
coming to dinner tonight so I'm afraid the dolphins will have to wait for
another day.  Can we take a rain check on that, Roy?"  He directed his
question at the younger man.

"No problem," came the immediate answer.  "The island is so beautiful that
Hazel and I have decided to spend some time around here and explore.  Just
let us know when it's convenient and we'll power up the Swallow and go
track down those dolphins and that's a promise, Clara."  Roy Chen beamed a
smile at Clara and lifted Nathan up into his arms.  "It's been a real
pleasure having you folks.  Come back any time you wish."

The man seemed so sincere but Lois had met plausible villains before.  Yet
there really was no proof that the Chens were other than they seemed, apart
from the fact that both Joel and Clark had started acting bizarrely the
minute that woman showed up on the beach.  But what was even more troubling
was that they were Jimmy's friends and she just prayed that they wouldn't
discover that the couple were criminals.  The memory of Kiaya Olsen still
haunted Lois.

A whimsical thought sparked through Lois' gloomy meanderings; just where
had Hazel Chen hidden the kryptonite?  The woman looked like she'd been
poured into that swimming costume and it displayed every curve to
perfection, hiding a jagged rock on her person, no matter how small, would
have been impossible.  The only jewellery Hazel was wearing was a delicate
golden chain bracelet with a tiny droplet of amber and, Lois' sharp eye
discerned, she wasn't wearing make up; no kryptonite lipstick here.

Why oh why hadn't they brought Bernard's Geiger counter gizmo with them and
this question would be academic?  Foolishly, wishing to put the whole
scenario behind them for one relaxing morning, they had left the device
back at the bungalow.  But then, it would have been a fairly difficult item
to explain away.

>>Excuse me, but do you mind if we bring along our newly patented
kryptonite finder just in case you have some stashed away for the express
purpose of destroying Superman?<< Well, that would certainly be a
conversation-stopper.  Lois giggled nervously.

Maybe the Chens were innocent and Lois was being paranoid.  She and Clark
had to talk this thing through but this time that prospect didn't fill her
with confidence; her partner wasn't exactly his usual clear-thinking self.

With her mind seething with unanswered questions, Lois gathered her family
together and boarding the high-powered launch, headed with relief for the
shore.

*****

"No, Lois, please!  You cannot be serious!"  Clark regarded his wife with
an incredulous eye.

Lois hadn't wanted to broach the subject of Clark's extra-curricular
activities on the Swallow when they had first returned.  If there had been
kryptonite on the yacht,
  then she thought it best to let him recover from the exposure before
opening the discussion.  And so she had spent the rest of the afternoon
trying to bury her concerns under a flood of activity.

Clark and Julian had been sent off into the little town to buy the food for
the evening meal which Clark would prepare later, Jimmy having hinted
strongly that he would prefer to eat edible food at dinner; the cheek of
that man.  At first, Lois had been loath to allow the 'super hero' out of
her sight, not knowing how he would behave on the trip and if he would find
any other personable females to impress.  Nevertheless, she had Julian's
assurance that he would steer his father clear of any other members of the
fairer sex.  And surely he could find little to distract him on such a
short and mundane jaunt.

Clara and Joel had been instructed to help in the tidying of the house,
their protests that the place had already been visited that morning by the
cleaning lady being promptly dismissed.  There was nothing like good,
old-fashioned hard work to clear the two half-kryptonians' minds of the
effects of red K.

Even Nathan had been targeted by his mother's uneasy temper.  The trip to
the Swallow now over, the little boy's attention had returned to what he
had been intending before the lady had walked from the water.  Rescuing his
marbles from the beach where they had been left with the rest of the gear,
he had carried them carefully back to the house.  Nathan had been about to
fish the two new ones from the safe haven of his pocket in order to show
them off to the family when his mommy's edgy voice had interrupted his action.

The painted enamel canister which had begun life as a biscuit tin, cradled
like a treasure chest in her son's podgy arms, had caught Lois' attention,
and not wishing to have the glass balls beneath her feet while she charged
around the room in full house-keeper mode, she had banished her small son's
precious hoard to his room.

Disappointment had descended like a blanket on Nathan; did no-one
appreciate these toys except his Grandpa Jon?  Well, they didn't deserve to
view the pretty pair he'd just found and in a slight huff Nathan wandered
into his bedroom and with a disconsolate sigh had deposited the amber
marbles in their cask and stuck the lot beneath his bed.  Immediately he'd
returned to the family room, where he was recruited to plump up the large
cushions on the cane furniture; and this he had done with great gusto,
punching and jumping up and down on the overstuffed cushions.  This work
was good fun and within no time his sunny spirit had returned and,
unfortunately for his family, his problem had soon been forgotten.

Now completely unaware of their small son's involvement in the affair, Lois
and Clark faced each other across the expanse of bed as they hurried to get
ready for the arrival of their dinner guest.

  "I don't flirt, unless it's with you!"  Clark was indignant but his wife
was just as adamant.

"Normally, no you don't.  But believe me, Clark, you were definitely
flirting, and with a female that wasn't me."  Lois was struggling to pull
up the zip on the back of her dress and Clark came round the bed to help.
"And admit it, buster, you did find her very attractive."  That was thrown
over her shoulder as she turned to give Clark access to the zip.

Clark's eyes glazed over in silent reverie.  "She's a very sexy lady and
that body,"  a picture of Hazel emerging from the sea flashed into his
mind.  "Gorgeous . . ."

Lois rounded on her daydreaming spouse and jammed a finger into his
unyielding chest.  "See, you're doing it again . . . you're drooling."

"I am not!" came the nettled reply.

"Believe me, Clark, you are.  And I bet you're picturing her in that skimpy
bathing costume . . . and don't bother to deny it because I know you too
well."

A red stain suffused Clark's face and he grinned apologetically.  "Okay,
Lois, you're right.  I didn't mean to, but she just popped right into my
head.  Why would I do that?!"  he asked, almost bemused.

"Kryptonite!  And in case you didn't notice, you weren't the only one who
was affected.  Joel was thinking the exact same thing--well, I hope it
wasn't the exact same thing.  I mean he's only eight . . . going on nine.
Do eight-year-old boys think these sort of thoughts . . . ?"

That suggestion hit the concerned father like a ton of bricks as he
reviewed the direction of his lecherous daydreams about Hazel.  "I hope
not.  But now you mention it, he was bowled over by Mrs Chen."

"Hopefully in a purely hero-worship sense.  But, Clark, you do realise that
this means there might have been kryptonite on board that boat.  You and
Joel were both perfectly normal until that woman showed up."

"You think Hazel had kryptonite on her, but where could she have hidden it
in that swimsuit?"

"Believe me, honey, I've already asked myself that . . . but the more
important questions are, do the Chens know about kryptonite and do they
know that Superman is really Clark Kent?"

For some moments Clark contemplated those momentous suggestions.  Something
didn't seem right and then his mind latched onto a flaw in Lois' reasoning.
  "Clara!  Clara wasn't affected!"  Grabbing Lois' hands, he hurried to
explain.  "Clara's developing the powers too and yesterday she fell under
the influence but today she wasn't displaying any weird fancies for anyone
on board . . . was she?"  Clark had to admit that in his entranced state he
might have missed some unusual behaviour from Clara.

"No," that was said with some reluctance, Lois not wanting to give up on
her kryptonite theory, threw in the first thing that sprang to her mind.
"But then, women are less promiscuous than men."

"Well that's a sexist remark if I've ever heard one!"

"Yes it is . . . and I have no idea why I said it because I don't really
believe . . . take Cat for instance . . . on seconds thoughts don't take
Cat . . . I doubt you'd be able to resist her in your present state . . ."

"Lois!  I was never interested in Cat and never would be!"

"And don't sidetrack me with thoughts of Cat . . ."

"I didn't!"  Clark was floundering in the face of Lois' babbling but he was
uncomfortably aware that Lois only babbled when she was upset and in this
case he was the cause of her disquiet and that bothered him.

A distressed silence fell between them until Lois returned to the current
discussion about their daughter.  "I have no idea why Clara wasn't affected
but she's only seven and Roy Chen is hardly the type of man to set a young
girl's heart a flutter."

"And there weren't any handsome sailors aboard?"

"Clark, think about it.  If you had a wife like Hazel Chen would you employ
hunky men to be around her?"

"I guess not, honey," Clark admitted with a pout of dejection.

"And I wouldn't persist with this line of reasoning, if I were you."  Lois
fixed her errant spouse with a steely eye.  "Because if you weren't
affected by kryptonite you've a lot of explaining to do."

The pit that Clark had dug for himself suddenly opened at his feet.  "I
take your point, honey.  Believe me, I really didn't know what I was
doing."  But that sounded too trite and wasn't exactly true.   "Or to be
more honest, it just seemed like the thing to do."

Lois understood how that felt.  Once she had driven her car over a cliff
because a madman had placed the thought in her head.  Now it seemed that a
rock had a similar crazy influence on her husband.  Of course, a rock
couldn't put an idea into Clark's mind, but it was definitely messing with
his conscience, allowing his baser instincts to surface.  And if Clark
hadn't been the gentle, caring man he was, then the situation could have
been a whole lot worse.  Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.

"Then it had to be kryptonite."  There was no note of triumph in Lois'
voice at winning her case.  The competitive days of Mad Dog Lane scoring
points off her partner were well and truly over.

Throwing himself in exasperation back on the bed, Clark, aka Superman,
heaved a heartfelt sigh.  "Geesh, Lois, you think that we could have one
trouble-free vacation.  Now we have a volcano, kryptonite and a couple of
villains."

"Clark, honey, we don't know about the last one."  Lois sat on the bed
beside the very disconsolate hero.  "Maybe Hazel and Roy were exploring and
picked up the rock quite innocently.   I mean if it wasn't all that burnt,
kryptonite can look real pretty . . . if you're not a super hero that is.
And we do try to keep the fact of what kryptonite can do to Superman a
secret, so it wouldn't be totally impossible for the Chens to not know what
they've got . . . ."

"Or to think that it would have any effect on Clark Kent and his family."
Clark was beginning to sound a little more optimistic; at least he was
beginning to dismiss the suggestion that the Chens might be criminals.
"And another thing," Clark popped up into a sitting position and turned to
his wife, desperation clouding the warmth of his brown eyes.  "red
kryptonite has never had this effect on me before . . . turning me into
Casanova!  I am so sorry, Lois.  How could I have treated you that way . .
. chatting up another woman right in front of you?  It was unforgivable of
me."  A guilt-ridden Clark was threatening to obsess.  "I don't know why
you put up with me."

Truth to tell, Lois was astounded by her own reaction.  The Lois Lane of
long ago would have packed her bags and run away just as fast and as far as
she could.  But Lois had learned a lot since those early times and she knew
Clark almost better than he knew himself.  After years of basking in his
unconditional love she trusted him with all her heart.  Granted, she hadn't
enjoyed his behaviour and she was about to ensure that there was no repeat
performance, but he hadn't exactly been in control of his rampaging
hormones and her own son's similar antics were proof of that.

Now that he was aware of his shortcomings he was deservedly both ashamed
and contrite, which was no bad thing (a little introspection was good for
the soul), yet they had a bigger problem to face and it was time to close
the book on his unprecedented lapse in fidelity.  She lifted her hand to
smooth the frown that creased his forehead.

"I put up with you because I'm completely in love with you and I don't
think that you're quite yourself at the moment.  But, I warn you, Clark,
don't make a habit of fancying other females, not unless you have a
yearning for the single life again."

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of Lois sprawled across the bed
clad in a very revealing dress and regarding him with such love and
tenderness.  Immediately he felt his body respond to her siren's call and,
leaning over, he kissed her with mounting passion, yet after a few moments
he drew back to search her earnest face.

"You do know that you're the only woman I have ever wanted . . . ."  Clark
brushed her lips softly with his o