Author's Notes This story emerged from an idea I had in early spring of this year; I remember emailing one of my writing buddies to say 'what do you think?!' and getting a very excited email in return urging me to write it. And so I did... and I don't think either of us imagined it would turn out to be anything like as long as this! This is now, officially, my longest story, and Kathy and LabRat, my Archive GE, have my sincerest sympathies! Thanks are due to a number of people here: Dr Phil Atcliffe, Fanfic Engineer Extraordinaire, for pointing me in the direction of websites relating to Tesla coils and for being patient in respect of our joint fic while this one took over all of my writing time; JoMurf (Julie) for some very helpful assistance with medical information; the FoLCs on Zoomway's Message Boards and on the fic list who read this monster as it was being posted in instalments, waited (not so) patiently for each successive instalment and supplied me with wonderful feedback, on the list, the boards and on IRC: particular thanks in this context to (in no particular order) LaurieD, Ann, AnneC, Irene, Tank, Dede, merry, TerriAnn, Jenny, Chiara, Anita, Charlotte, Kara, Missy, Rac, James, DebbieC, Pam, Vicki, Nan and Marnie; and to JenniD and Hazel who read the story privately and sent very helpful comments. If I've missed anyone out, my sincere apologies and my assurance that I did appreciate your comments very much! But above all my thanks go to Yvonne and Helene for beta-reading efforts beyond the call of duty. You two have been fantastic, completely invaluable and very, very much appreciated! You both understand perfectly the main requirements for a beta-reader: praise the story, catch typos, praise the story, point out plot holes, praise the story, tell me where I've gone over the top with something, praise the story, offer extremely helpful suggestions for additional twists or to crank up the angst, praise the story... . I'll give you both excellent references any time! In relation to time-frame, this story takes place instead of The Phoenix. Comments very much welcomed at wendy@kingsmeadowcr.freeserve.co.uk or w.m.richards@hrm.keele.ac.uk ____________ When Lightning Strikes Twice Wendy Richards Rated PG-13 Submitted July 2000 ____________ - When Lightning Strikes Twice - He'd had the dream again. *The* dream. The one where he and Lois were on a date - *together* - and she turned to look at him with exactly the same look of love in her eyes for him as he knew he had for her. He'd had the same dream three times in the space of a week now. It had to be significant. Lois's behaviour towards him had certainly altered in the past couple of months - since his supposed death, he realised with a touch of guilt, remembering the pain he knew he'd caused her then. Since then, she'd been much more affectionate towards him, had been far more inclined to be the one to suggest spending off-duty time together. And there had been Christmas Eve... he'd kicked himself so many times for not taking advantage of that highly romantic moment when the carollers had started to sing below Lois's window. He could have kissed her then, and he was pretty sure she would have been receptive. But as always, something had held him back... the fear of what her rejection would do to their friendship. But now, something else was in danger of damaging their friendship: a certain Assistant DA by the name of Mayson Drake. Clark liked Mayson: she was an attractive woman, certainly, and would be an amusing, intelligent companion if she could only stop being so... so *pushy* where he was concerned. He sighed. The problem was that Lois knew Mayson was attracted to him; but on the other hand, and this was what had finally given him hope, he actually thought that Lois might be jealous of the other woman. She'd certainly behaved as if she was jealous when she'd thought he'd gone away for the weekend with Mayson. So it was time he took a chance, instead of hiding his feelings away the whole time, Clark decided. If there was a chance that Lois might at last be ready to return his feelings, to fall in love with *Clark* instead of being dazzled by Superman - and, as Superman, he'd done his best to hint her away - he needed to get his act together once and for all and ask her for a date. Make it clear that his interest in her went beyond that of best friend. It was a terrifying thought, that he might actually *do* what he'd been wanting to do for so long... but he couldn't carry on as they had been any longer. He loved Lois Lane. She... might care for him, might be willing to see him as more than a friend. But he would never know unless he made the first move. *************** "Clark! Have you seen this?" Lois flicked angrily at the press release which Perry had just handed her. Her partner came to stand just behind her and read over her shoulder. "'Female forfeit is $250,000 over a lifetime'," he read, his voice puzzled. "What's this about?" "It's the pay gap between men and women - some new research from economists at MetU," Lois explained impatiently. "Everyone knows women lose out in their careers if they have kids. But this shows that even women without kids end up earning less than men - look at this!" She gestured at one column. "A professional woman without children will earn a quarter of a million bucks less than an equally qualified man over her lifetime!" She glared up at Clark, who raised one eyebrow at her as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on her PC monitor. "Lois, you earn more than me," he pointed out mildly. Almost screaming in frustration, she gritted out, "I know. But that's - " "Not the point. I agree, Lois," he interrupted, and she could see from his expression that his earlier objection had just been teasing. Clark was interested. "So we're doing a story on this? News or feature? Or will Perry let us do both?" His expression became distant, unfocused, as it tended to do when he was mentally planning a story. "We could interview women at various stages of their careers, with and without kids, talk to them about their experiences, what they want to see changed for themselves and for the next generation of working women...." "Sounds great," Lois began, then winced suddenly. Her pain-killers were not working, and she was really beginning to feel lousy. Groping behind her for her chair, she slumped into the seat and leaned forward, closing her eyes. "Lois...? Lois, are you okay?" Clark's voice was anxious, and she opened one eye to see him hovering solicitously over her. Sincere as he obviously was, sympathy from Clark was not what she needed right now. "I'll be okay, Clark, don't worry about it." But he didn't go away; he leaned closer, concern evident in his soft voice. "Lois, can I get you something? Glass of water? Coffee? Pain-killers?" A different biological make-up, Lois answered silently, sarcastically. Women lost out every which way, it seemed. They suffered for being female in so many different ways: sexism at work, macho behaviour and harassment, and as this new research had just proved, lower pay simply for being female. And of course to add insult to injury.... she thought savagely as she got to her feet. "I'm going home, Clark. You put a schedule together for that article, yeah? I'll be back tomorrow and we'll get to work on it then." She grabbed her coat and bag and was making her way towards the exit when suddenly he was beside her again. "Lois - let me take you home, okay? I'm worried about you - " "Clark, I'll be fine. And I need you here - Perry'll throw a fit if we're both missing." Before he could raise another objection, she summoned the lift and stepped inside it, slumping against the wall once the doors had closed. ************** Lois hadn't seemed at all well when she'd left the Planet, Clark thought, concerned. He'd wanted to take her home himself, butshe'd refused his offer; that had hurt him in the circumstances. He'd been ready to ask her out on a date, and she wouldn't even let him look after her when she was sick. Perhaps this idea of asking her out was a waste of time after all.... He hovered near her apartment window, feeling guilty about invading her privacy but needing to reassure himself that she was okay. She must have heard him, though, for a moment later her voice called out, as if she was uncertain whether he was really there or not, "Superman?" He floated nearer and hovered close to the window-ledge. She was lying on one of the couches, in what looked to him to be an uncomfortable posture with her arm wrapped around her stomach. Unusually, she didn't get up to greet him. "Lois? Is everything all right?" Unsure whether or not he should enter her apartment, he waited. "Come on in, I can't talk to you all the way out there," she told him, so he stepped over the ledge and into the room. She was too pale, he thought, wondering what was wrong with her. Should he call a doctor? Take her to the hospital? "Lois? You don't look too well," he said tentatively, hoping she wouldn't be offended at Superman making such an observation. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Seeming unwilling to comment on his question, Lois changed the subject. "It's okay. Is there something I can do for you, Superman? I mean, it's good to see you, of course, but...?" Oh yes, what had his excuse been? Yes, that was it.... "Lois, I just wanted to thank you again for all your help last weekend - you know, when I was blinded. I kind of rushed off once it was all over, but I don't want you to think I'm not very appreciative of all you did." She blushed, the flush on her cheeks accentuating her pallor. "That's okay. We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other." "I know, and you're a very good and valued friend," he couldn't help telling her. "And... don't be offended, Lois, but I also appreciate you keeping what happened out of the press. I know I can trust you not to print that kind of information about me, so you don't need to remind me of that - but I do need to tell you occasionally that I'm grateful for your discretion." She shrugged. "You know I won't print anything that could harm you, Superman." She seemed about to say more, but he noticed that she seemed to tense suddenly, and he studied her in concern. Her heart-rate was up, which seemed to suggest that she was in pain, and he could see that she was tensing the muscles in her abdomen. "Lois...? You really don't look well," he ventured again. Lois thought, resting her head back against the sofa-cushion. This was really not the best of times for the Super-hero to come visiting; much as she would normally enjoy the opportunity to talk to him, she just wanted to rest and wait for the pain to subside. "I just need to get some rest," she told him evasively. "Lois, please let me help you," he persisted. "Superman, there's nothing you can do. I've taken some painkillers, and I'll be okay in a couple of hours." He was clearly puzzled, judging by his expression, and for some reason it seemed that he wasn't about to let this one go. she found herself thinking, remembering how hard it had been to convince Clark earlier that she was capable of making her way home alone. She sighed; he wasn't going to be satisfied until she gave him an explanation, and anyway, part of her wanted to see his embarrassed retreat when she did. Raising her gaze to his, she gave a careless shrug. "I told you, it's no big deal. Just that time of the month, that's all." She wasn't remotely surprised to see an obvious blush creep across his face; he seemed about to apologise and leave when, instead, the embarrassment was replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Lois - you do trust me, don't you?" Taken aback, she replied, "Of course!" "Then let me help you." Before she could say a word, he was striding to her side; he bent and slid his arms underneath her body. "I can't work here - there isn't enough room. Do you mind if I take you into your bedroom?" Completely baffled as to what he intended, Lois shrugged as well as she was able while being held cradled against his Spandex-clad chest. "If you want...." In a very short space of time he was laying her gently on the bed, sliding a pillow underneath her head. He studied her for a moment before speaking. "Could you take off that sweater? I mean... I assume you've got a T-shirt or something underneath it...?" She did, so that wasn't a problem, but she still wondered what he intended. Checking that the T-shirt was still properly tucked into her sweatpants, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head before lying back down, gazing up at him in open curiosity. Even the painful stomach cramps which had driven her home from work weren't enough to stop her wondering just what Superman had in mind. He glanced at her, his gaze seeming to ask her permission as his hand hovered over her stomach; she nodded and gestured for him to go ahead. Then he placed his hand gently on her abdomen, moving it around a little as he stood beside her bed, an expression of concentration on his face. Then she saw his eyes narrow, and she stared at him in amazement. What was he...? He must have seen her surprise, for he glanced in her direction. "Heat vision, Lois, not X-ray," he assured her, a hint of amusement in his voice. He turned to gaze at her abdomen again, and within a moment or two she felt a warm sensation spreading all over the affected area; only superficial at first, but it quickly began to reach the cramped muscles inside her. This was better than a hot water bottle any day, she decided, barely able to believe that this was happening. The pain started to recede, and for the first time since she'd got up that morning she felt able to relax her stomach muscles. "My God, Superman, can I call you over to do that every month?" she joked, trying to hide her incredulity but not succeeding particularly well. He smiled briefly in response, ceasing the caress of his heat vision. "Is it always this bad?" His tone suggested that he was curious, as well as concerned. Shaking her head, still barely able to believe that they were having this conversation, she explained. "Not normally, but every so often I have a really bad month. I guess this was one of them." "You going to be okay if I leave you now?" he asked, still sounding concerned. Lois nodded quickly, realising that he needed to go but at the same time wishing, now that she was definitely feeling better, that he could stay and talk. Although she'd had him almost to herself over the weekend, for some reason they hadn't really talked all that much. The presence of Clark's parents for some of the time had inhibited them, and in any case she'd been busy trying to find a solution to Superman's blindness, as well as finding out who was responsible for it. It just seemed so long since they'd spent any time together beyond a very quick demand on her part for a quote when they happened to meet somewhere. "Thanks, Superman - I really appreciate it," she told him, and for an instant his expression, focused as it had been on whatever lay ahead of him, softened. He moved back towards the bed and bent down; for a brief moment her heart almost stopped when it seemed as if he was going to kiss her lips. But instead his lips brushed her forehead before he stepped back again. Of course; she had been foolish to imagine he'd meant anything more. Bidding her a brief farewell, he strode out of the bedroom and a moment later she heard the sonic boom of his takeoff. That heat vision of his was simply amazing, she thought as she pulled the quilt over herself. He'd been so gentle with it; and yet she'd seen him use it to devastating effect at other times. He could cut holes in solid steel with it, and he could reduce objects to a pile of ash. And yet it hadn't occurred to her for a moment to be afraid; he'd told her he was going to use it on her, and she'd trusted him completely. It was only now occurring to her to wonder what kind of damage a full-strength blast of heat vision could inflict on her or any other human. Not that Superman would do that, she knew - no matter what the provocation, Superman wouldn't use his Super-powers to maim or kill. But, for the first time, she began to consider what a devastating weapon his powers could be in the possession of someone without Superman's ethics. Waldecker didn't count, she instantly decided. The man who'd become Resplendent Man hadn't been evil in the slightest; just a little misguided and bitter at the turn his life had taken. But what if it had been someone else who, during that flash of lightning, had been with Superman? It just didn't bear thinking about, she decided, hoping that Superman intended to be very careful during thunderstorms in future. Yawning, she rolled over and decided to sleep for a couple of hours. *************** At least it was nothing serious, Clark thought as he headed back to the Planet. And he'd been able to help in some small way... and, he guessed, she'd be feeling better later. Perhaps he should go over to see her later that evening, he mused. He could bring her something nice, chocolate perhaps, and maybe *then* he could ask her for that date. She might even say yes - in fact, he considered, it was probably more likely that she'd be prepared to say yes if he asked her away from the workplace anyway. He grimaced as the consequences of someone - Ralph, in the worst-case scenario - overhearing his request occurred to him. Another thought occurred to him suddenly, and he slowed in mid-air with a low groan. There was one rather major issue which he hadn't even considered in all this planning. That was the matter of his alter ego. Lois didn't know that he was Superman, and he hadn't even considered telling her. He frowned. Was that a problem? It was Clark who wanted to take Lois out on a date, after all. But... just now, in her apartment, he'd almost come on to her as Superman. Yet again. he protested indignantly to his conscience. All he'd done was use some heat vision to ease her pain, and then leave her to rest. No, his conscience reminded him, he had kissed her. And if he hadn't remembered who he was and what he was doing just in time, he would have kissed her lips instead of just her forehead. As far as Lois was concerned, therefore, Superman was still a potential love-interest - and he knew she was interested. Okay, she didn't chase after him as obviously as she had six months or a year ago, but he knew her well enough to know that if Superman gave her any reason to believe that he was really interested, she'd respond. he asked himself, confused. Maybe, he thought carefully, what he was saying was that he needed to be sure that Lois was interested in *him,* Clark, and not just Superman. Once he was sure that she did care about him, that her feelings for him were more than just friendly, he could tell her the truth about him and Superman. And, he had to admit, there were times when the thought of her knowing the truth really appealed to him. No more running off at inopportune moments with stupid excuses. No more having to come up with elaborate explanations for where he'd been or just how he knew something that only Superman should know and vice versa, no more talking about himself in the third person, and no more disguising his true self in front of her. Yes, he liked the sound of all that very much.... But his old insecurities kept jumping up to slap him in the face. He wouldn't, *couldn't* tell Lois the truth until he was sure she wanted Clark. He recommenced his journey back to the Planet, trying to ignore the little voice which irritatingly insisted on pointing out that to enter into a romantic relationship with Lois while she didn't know that Clark Kent was also Superman would be completely unethical. It was one thing to deceive a friend; quite another thing to lie to a romantic partner. But what could he do? If he told Lois who he was and then asked her out, how would he know whether she'd said yes to Clark Kent or to Superman? But if he asked her out first and told her afterwards, wouldn't she be likely to see that as him having set her some sort of test? He sighed, realising that this debate with himself wasn't actually getting him anywhere. Perhaps he should... oh, he didn't know. He would have to think about it later; now he needed to get back to work. *************** At the end of a very busy day in which Perry had sent him and Ralph to cover a breaking news story about a potential hostile takeover of the Metropolis Bus Company, Clark was finally able to leave the Planet and think about going to see Lois. He wanted to... but he knew he had to decide what he intended to say to her first. It just wasn't enough any more to be good old Clark, her best friend, the person she turned to when she wanted a pizza and movie, or a Saturday trip to a ballgame, or the person she called when she needed someone to talk to. But if he ever wanted to be more, he knew he had to grapple with the question of letting her in on his secret. Sooner or later, she had to know. But the same dilemma which he'd been thinking through earlier remained: did he ask her out and then tell her his secret, or should he take that huge leap of faith and tell her he was Superman first? His thoughts were interrupted by a woman's voice calling for help, in shrill, panicked cries. Grimacing, he glanced cautiously around and, seeing no-one anywhere around, hurried into an alley from where, less than a second later, Superman propelled himself into the sky. Engaging Super-speed immediately, he flew in the direction of the cry. His Super-hearing told him it was coming from a science park on the far side of the city. As it was now after seven o'clock in the evening, he knew that the research laboratories and business 'incubation units' should be shut down for the evening - although, he reminded himself, he was well aware that scientists rarely respected normal working hours. Yet the building from where the screams were coming was in darkness. Not stopping to X-ray first, he barrelled in through an open side door and strode faster than human running speed along the corridor until he found what he was looking for. There was a big interior room, at least as large as an auditorium, and it was from there that the cries were coming. It was in semi-darkness, there being no windows or other form of natural light; only a couple of the low-powered fluorescent lights in the ceiling were switched on. He noticed in passing that apart from a few tables and instruments around the side walls, the room was empty but for two low, squat cylindrical objects set several feet apart. But he ignored those; his attention was focused on the two people in the centre of the room - between those two objects, in fact. A tall, slim woman with short cropped blonde hair was held in a punishing grip by a man, who seemed to be tearing at her clothes and trying to assault her. Both were facing away from him as they struggled, the man grunting ferociously and the woman struggling, trying to free herself. In an instant Superman had freed the woman from the man's grasp, the bare glance he cast her not affording him sufficient opportunity to look at her properly. He would assure himself that she was okay in a minute, he decided, once he'd dealt with her attacker. Instead, he reached out for her captor, seizing him by the upper arm and collar in a firm grip. "Are you all right?" he asked the woman, not glancing in her direction and barely pausing for an answer as he turned his attention back to his prisoner. "Thought you had an easy victim, did you...?" Superman trailed off as his captive turned to face him. The world almost seemed to stand still as he was confronted with a face he'd never imagined he would see again. "Luthor...!" It was indeed Lex Luthor, but Clark couldn't believe it. The man should be dead - he *was* dead, Clark had seen him fall to his death with his own eyes. Staring at the once-respected billionaire, an image flashed into Clark's mind of Luthor plummeting to the ground, complete with the sickening thud which his body had made on impact. He was dead - he'd died almost on impact. There was no way anyone - any human - could have survived such a fall. But somehow... no, this had to be a double, a lookalike, it couldn't be Lex Luthor. And anyway, this man looked older somehow, more careworn and crumpled, with shaggier hair - the old Luthor would never have allowed himself to look this seedy. Even his clothes looked second-hand. "We meet again, Superman," the man drawled; now Clark had no doubt at all. This was Lex Luthor; that voice was unmistakeable. "What's the matter...? Oh, I see, you thought I was dead. Well...." Luthor smiled broadly, clearly enjoying the situation. He shifted position in Clark's grasp, the Super-hero too shocked by the apparent resurrection, like Phoenix from the ashes, of his would-be nemesis to object. Luthor's smile grew wider still. "Thanks to my good physician here, Dr Gretchen Kelly, even death may be reversed." Clark's glance shot across to the woman, Luthor's erstwhile captive. No innocent victim, but someone he'd met before; the woman who had stolen Luthor's corpse, who'd believed that she could bring him back to life. And he'd thought she was crazy! And she'd also tried to transfer his powers to the corpse.... A quick scan of the underground area assured him that there was no sign of the elaborate equipment the scientist had set up in that crypt. Ignoring her, Clark turned his attention back to Luthor. "Well, your resurrection won't have done you any good, Luthor. I'm sure the police will be very happy, if a little surprised, when I hand you over to them." "Perhaps, Superman, perhaps," Luthor drawled. "We'll see." As Luthor spoke, the strange cylindrical objects seemed to crackle into life; a halo of light and frenetic electricity hovered above each one before arcing towards each other in a dazzling, eye-catching display of lightning. Clark was briefly mesmerised by the dancing bolts of lightning which shot backwards and forwards between the two cylinders; until, too late, the implications of the situation struck him. He made to move out of the way... but one jagged spike of sheer high-voltage electricity was already striking him. Almost in slow motion, as his body absorbed the shock, his brain appreciated Lex Luthor's cunning and sharp intelligence: while Clark had still been recovering from the shock of Luthor's resurrection from the dead, the man had manoeuvred their respective positions to ensure that he was not anywhere in a direct line between the two cylinders. Had Luthor been, Clark knew, he would now be dead. Instead... instead, it was very likely that he now possessed at least some of Clark's Super-powers. "Yes," Luthor drawled again as the lightning died down as quickly as it had started. "We will see, indeed, Superman." In one swift, forceful gesture he pushed hard at Clark, taking the younger man by surprise and thus making Clark stumble and lose both his balance and his grip on Luthor, who then ran for the door at Super-speed. Clark scrambled to his feet almost instantly, but although less than a second had passed, Luthor had already made his escape. His gaze switched from Gretchen Kelly to the door Luthor had just exited through, debating whether to restrain Dr Kelly somehow before going after the once-dead villain. There was another consideration, which was that he needed to ensure that this equipment, whatever it was, was put beyond use. But that could wait; he needed to catch Luthor. The implications of what had just happened were too great to ignore. Lex Luthor, the only truly evil man Clark had ever met, now had Superman's powers. ***************** Luthor paused once outside the building, realising that there was no sign of the great do-gooder in the blue tights in his wake. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, however: if the Man of Steel had decided, for whatever reason, not to pursue him right at that moment, he would take advantage of the fact. Perhaps - who knew? - the act of transfer had not simply duplicated Superman's powers, but had actually removed them from Superman and given them entirely to himself, to Lex Luthor? In that case, the one-time billionaire thought in awed satisfaction, he would be genuinely unstoppable. Super-powers. He already knew that he possessed Super-strength, since under normal circumstances no human would be able to knock over the last son of Krypton. Then there was Super-speed: he'd certainly left the room at something approaching the speed of sound, and it had been incredible seeing things rush past him in a blur. What about the other powers? He turned and stared back at the research centre, and a moment or two later the walls simply dissolved and he was able to see beyond them. A little more application to his task, and he was suddenly able to see Gretchen and his former nemesis; Superman was just picking himself up off the floor and was staring at one of the Tesla coils in puzzlement, as if still trying to work out what had happened. Luthor thought gleefully. Even if Superman still had his powers, he would have a massive advantage over the Super-hero: sheer brain-power. He'd have to go back for Gretchen later, unless she made her own way to their hideout first. She would be looking for some reward for her services, and he supposed she deserved something: it had been a very ingenious idea of hers, and just the sort of thing to appeal to him. Yes, Gretchen would be rewarded... he was very well aware of the fact that she fancied herself in love with him, and it wouldn't be too much of a hardship to take her to bed. But after; after, he would need to ensure that she could never become a threat to him. It would be insupportable if, for example, it occurred to her that others might benefit from the possession of Super-powers - others, such as herself. So it was unfortunate, of course, but he would have to deal with her. Later. Once he'd spent some time getting used to these truly miraculous new powers he now possessed. And there was still the most important, the most fascinating power of them all. Flying. Was that possible...? Luthor frowned. Just how did Superman do it? The man made it look so effortless; well then, he told himself, it probably *was* effortless. The man was more brawn than brains, so if he could figure out how to defeat gravity, then it certainly wasn't beyond the wit of the most superior brain in the Metropolis business or criminal fraternities. He concentrated, looking upwards, raising one arm into the air and taking a slight jump. Nothing. He broke into a run, wondering whether the principle of airline flying might be best for his first attempt: build up speed on a 'runway' and then lift off. But even running a couple of hundred yards along the private road made no difference to the effect of gravity on his body. he cursed himself, unwilling to believe that this aspect of Superman's powers had failed to be transferred. He heaved a heavy sigh, visualising again Superman's effortless take-offs: the man just seemed to float off the ground as easily as if he was merely walking. His body would simply lift into the air, and then he would shift speed and disappear into the horizon. he chanted silently to himself, walking slowly back along the road. Then he looked down... ...and discovered that there was no longer asphalt - or any substance whatsoever - beneath his feet. He was floating several feet off the ground! he told himself, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He thought about rising higher, above the buildings, and increasing the pace of his flight; to his amazement, the thought was precursor to the fact. Suddenly he was hovering well over the neighbouring buildings and moving at a pace which would have overtaken many varieties of feathered flying creatures. Executing a loop-the-loop from sheer delight at his newly-acquired abilities, Lex Luthor began to plan the regaining of both his empire and his once-future wife, free from the interference of either the police or Superman. *************** From the interior of the research lab, Clark quickly scanned the outside of the building with his X-ray vision; Luthor had already vanished from sight. He would have to try to track him down, which would be no easy task if Luthor had discovered the power of flight. As he was about to leave in a burst of Super-speed, he caught sight of Gretchen Kelly in his peripheral vision; she was, he realised, cautiously edging her way towards the door. Ignoring Luthor momentarily, in under a second he had caught hold of her, impeding her progress. "Not so fast, Dr Kelly," he drawled. "Before you go anywhere, perhaps you'd like to tell me exactly what those... things are." She looked him up and down, not anything like as intimidated as people apprehended by the Man of Steel in this manner normally tended to be. "Clearly you're not very knowledgeable about physics, Superman," she replied scathingly. "Those... *things,* as you call them, are Tesla coils." She paused, gave him a supercilious smile, then continued. "Perhaps you'd like me to explain what their function is?" Clark shook his head. He should have figured it out for himself: Tesla coils, invented in the 1890's by Nikola Tesla, and originally intended for use in the wireless transmission of electricity. As the most effective means in existence of producing ultra-high voltages, they tended to be used in special effects a lot - he had seen some demonstrations himself. If there was such a thing as artificial lightning, Tesla coils came the closest. And it seemed that they had the same effect on him as real lightning: anyone he happened to be touching at the time acquired his powers. And he realised at the same time that there was little point in destroying them. Tesla coils were not exactly rare; the main thing was to ensure that no-one else discovered the use to which they could be put. "So this was your idea, I'd bet," he threw back at her. "You told Luthor a transfer was possible." She shrugged. "What does it matter whose idea it was? Lex has your powers now. And that machine of mine you used the last time to transfer that weedy little man's powers back to yourself has been destroyed, which means there's nothing you can do about it." Clark thought, glaring at the woman. He paused for a moment wondering what to do about her. He was tempted to hand her over to the police - but for what crime? Stealing the body of Lex Luthor? But he couldn't produce the corpse to prove it. Bringing a dead man back to life? Again, how could he prove it? His guess would be that Luthor would stay well out of sight, since before his suicide jump he'd been about to be arrested on very serious charges of bribery, corruption, fraud and possibly murder. And if he brought Dr Kelly in, he also ran the very real risk of the fact that his powers could be transferred becoming common knowledge; that was not something he wanted to contemplate. So he conceded that he probably had to let Kelly go. Reluctantly, he released her; fixing her with another hard stare, he remarked, "Luthor'll never thank you for it. He'll exploit you until you have no further use for him, and then he'll drop you. If you're lucky." She glared at him again. "I'll take my chances, Superman. At least Lex isn't a goody-two-shoes who hasn't a clue what to do with a woman!" As she turned and walked off, Clark stood as if frozen. Luthor 'knew what to do with women,' he was well aware of that; the man had taken great delight in flaunting his conquest of one particular woman in front of Superman's eyes some months before. Which could mean that, now that Luthor was alive again, and Super-powered.... Lois could be in danger! In a sudden burst of Super-speed, Superman left the building and was airborne, heading for Lois's apartment. ***************** It had been quite a productive day after all, Lois thought as she saved her document and stretched, leaning backwards in her chair. She'd fallen asleep not long after Superman had visited her earlier, but had woken up around mid-afternoon feeling rested and much better. She'd considered, and decided against, going back to the Planet, instead spending the afternoon working on her laptop. She had several articles in progress relating to ongoing investigations and also some op-ed pieces which she tended to work on whenever she got a free half-hour, and this had presented a good opportunity to make some progress. It was getting late, however, the fading light from the window telling her that it was at least eight o'clock. Time to get something to eat, she thought, realising that she was actually very hungry. But as she moved towards the kitchen she heard a familiar tapping at her window. But.... She frowned. What was Superman doing back again? Changing direction to go and let him in, she smiled. Clearly he'd been concerned about her and he wanted to check that she was all right. He really was very thoughtful, she considered as she pushed up the casement. He brushed past her, and immediately she knew that whatever he wanted, it wasn't just to check on her state of health. His expression was strained, and he was clearly anxious about something. "Superman? What is it?" she asked quickly. "Has something happened?" He nodded. "Can we sit down? This is important, and... well, it might come as a shock to you." Now frowning, she took a seat on one of the love-seats, noting absently that Superman took the couch opposite instead of joining her. He really was making sure that she got the message that there could be nothing more between them other than friendship. "So what's happened?" she asked again. He sighed heavily; the action seemed somehow familiar to her, though she couldn't work out why. She couldn't remember seeing Superman sigh like that before, and yet.... But she shrugged that aside and waited. "Lois, I have some... news for you," he said slowly. "And I don't know how you're going to take this...." He paused, seemed to gather his resolve, and then spoke again, his voice sounding strained. "Lex Luthor is alive, Lois." She couldn't have heard him correctly. "Superman... did you really say that *Lex Luthor* is...? But he's dead, he fell - or jumped, or whatever, he landed on the street in front of me, he died instantaneously...." The horror of those few seconds outside LexCorp flooded back into her mind, and she shuddered. It had been bad enough having second - and third and fourth - thoughts before the wedding, and then managing to tell the Archbishop (and Lex) that she couldn't marry him after all, but then when the police had burst in with warrants for her fiance's arrest she'd felt so... so *humiliated*! It had been such a relief to find Clark outside, hurrying up to her, offering her the shelter of his arms... ...and then there had been shouts, angry cries, the sound of her fiance's voice from far above, and then further cries followed by a sickening thud. Clark had pulled her more tightly against him, turning her head into his shoulder and turning to block her view of Lex Luthor's broken body lying on the asphalt. He had been killed - suicide - so how could he be alive? She raised shocked, confused, disbelieving eyes to Superman. "I... don't... understand...?" "He's alive, Lois," Superman replied, his voice firm, the rigidity of his expression making it plain that this was no joke. "I've seen him." "He... I saw him! He was dead!" Lois protested, as if the mere fact of repetition would make it so. "And... and so did Clark... Perry, Jimmy... the police...." Superman crossed the empty space between the two love-seats, sitting beside her and taking her hands in his. "I know, Lois. But - you remember Dr Gretchen Kelly?" "That crazy scientist who stole his body and thought she could bring him back to life?" Lois asked, remembering suddenly: she had followed Kelly down into the crypt of an old church and had been confronted with her ex-fiance's body in a glass casket. "She was crazy, wasn't she?" "I thought so," Superman answered slowly. "It seems she knew what she was talking about. She brought him back to life." Lex Luthor was alive! Lois felt as if her blood was running cold; for her, the only saving grace about that whole affair last summer had been that Lex was dead. She had been spared the humiliation of his trial, of being pictured for the months, years even, of its duration as the woman who almost married the most corrupt businessman in Metropolis - the award-winning investigative reporter who had been fooled by the man's suave exterior. But now he was alive, it would surely not be long before he was arrested - in fact, he was probably already in police custody if Superman had seen him. Superman had no doubt handed him over to the police personally. So she still had to face the trial. She turned back to Superman, another thought striking her. "It's just as well we managed to stop her from transferring your powers that day - and that you destroyed her machine," she pointed out. To her surprise, Superman flinched. "Lois, that's the other thing I have to tell you." The bleak, barely controlled tone of voice he adopted told her that this was even more serious. She listened in shocked silence as he explained that due to a process which she was barely able to understand Lex Luthor now possessed the same Super-powers as Superman himself. "My God!" she exclaimed slowly, blanching at the thought. To think she'd only been musing earlier about how appalling it would have been had anyone more dangerous than William Waldecker obtained Superman's powers. Lex Luthor was surely the worst possible person to have ended up with Super-powers; the possibilities almost didn't bear thinking about. "So... where is he now?" she asked. He shrugged. "I don't know. Lois, it occurred to me that he might come after you, so I came here straight away to make sure you were okay. And, Lois, you have to get out of town. Immediately." Superman was right: Luthor would come after her, Lois realised. It was entirely consistent with his behaviour. In the months following the engagement and abortive wedding, she had come to realise that all she had been to him was a possession - or someone he had wanted to possess. She had represented a challenge, since she hadn't immediately fallen under the spell of his charm, hadn't tumbled into his bed. Even during their engagement she'd told him she wanted to wait until they were married before sleeping with him; while she couldn't imagine that he would come after her simply because he wanted her body, she was aware that he would see her as unfinished business. And furthermore, although the wedding ceremony had descended into chaos once the police had burst in, she knew he had heard her say that she couldn't marry him. She had seen the flash of fury in his eyes as he'd seen the prize slipping from his grasp. She knew enough about him, from her own experience and from what she'd learned since, that no-one humiliated Lex Luthor and got away with it. So, yes, it was entirely possible that he would come looking for revenge. So she would have to be on her guard.... Turning to look at Superman again, she nodded. "You're right, he will want revenge on me." He got to his feet, moving away from the seating area. "You need to go and pack - enough for a few days at least. I'll take you to m... um, the Kents in Smallville - you know, Clark's parents. I know they won't mind." Lois frowned. What was he thinking? Did he think that she was so weak and feeble that she'd just run away? Not when there was a story as big as this! "Superman, I understand you're trying to help, but I can't leave. Not now! I have to write this - this is *huge*! Lex Luthor back, and - " "What are you talking about, Lois?" he interrupted her, appalled. "You can't print this!" What was she thinking? he wondered in disbelief. Apart from her own safety, didn't she realise how important it was that this be kept quiet? Why on earth was she thinking of printing this, when she'd understood how necessary it was that other things were kept out of the press? Her expression hardened suddenly, her eyes glinting icily at him as she too got to her feet. "Superman, you may be my friend, but you do not tell me what I can and can't write!" He sighed; he should have known better than to imagine that even Superman could try to tell Lois Lane what to do; and anyway, he was well aware that her attitude towards the Super-hero had changed in the last few weeks. Ever since she'd discovered that he'd withheld information from her, she'd ceased to regard him as being completely flawless, some sort of plaster saint, but as more human; fallible, although - he guessed - actually more approachable as a result. Not that he minded that; quite the contrary, normally. But this was different.... "Lois... okay, I'm sorry, I know you're a professional and you have to do your job. But I'm *asking* you, as a friend, to keep this out of the press. Think about it," he added encouragingly. "Think what would happen if it became widely known that my powers could be transferred - and it would, once it became known that Luthor's alive, people would go looking for him and they'd find out he has my powers. We had this conversation a few weeks ago, remember? Resplendent Man? He wasn't that much of a problem - his heart was in the right place, even though he thought he could charge people for saving them. But you know what my powers allow me to do, Lois. Just imagine a master criminal, or even a petty thief, with Super-powers!" Her expression changed; she inhaled sharply and then gave him a rueful, crooked smile. "I don't have to try too hard, Superman. If Lex Luthor has your powers, he'll be capable of anything." Her eyes closed briefly. "You have to stop him - find a way of taking them away again!" "I know, Lois, but I have no idea how long that could take, or even how I'm going to do it," he said heavily. "Which is why I need to get you out of here. You could be in a lot of danger if he decides he wants you back - at least, I assume you don't want him back?" He had to add that final rider, although it hurt him to do so; after all, she had almost married the man, would have married him had Perry not arrived with the police during the ceremony. But she gave him another ferocious glare. "Do you have to rub that in, Superman? I'd have thought Clark might have told you that subject's not up for discussion. I made a mistake, okay? That doesn't mean I want to be reminded of it all the time!" She turned away from him, her shoulders heaving, and his own shoulders slumped. She was right: he *should* have known. Not that Lois had ever talked much about Luthor and about her own feelings concerning the aborted wedding and the fiance who had turned out to be a criminal. The closest she'd come to confiding in him had been after the reading of Luthor's will, and she hadn't said much then. "Lois, I'm sorry, but I had to ask," he told her quietly. She turned back, and he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "No, I don't want him back. I thought he was dead - I wanted him to *stay* dead! After everything he did, all the lies he told, the way he deceived me...." She shook her head furiously. "I have no idea what interest he'd have in me now, other than revenge because I said I wouldn't marry him, but I don't want to see him." Clark filed that one away for future reference, deciding that it was more urgent to get Lois safely out of town. "Well, if you'll come with me you won't have to. Go on, pack some things." He saw her swallow and nod, before marching swiftly towards her bedroom. She paused on the threshold, glancing back at him. "Clark's parents - do they know what's going on?" Clark shook his head. "Not yet, but I'll call them while you pack." He did, carrying on a bizarre conversation in which his parents knew full well they were talking to Clark, and yet he had to speak to them as Superman, a mere acquaintance, and refer to himself in the third person. He could tell that his parents were worried: they were both well aware, as was he, that the last time he'd seen Lex Luthor - before the man's death -he'd trapped Superman in a Kryptonite cage with the aim of killing him. Now, Luthor had Super-powers... and, as Jonathan suggested, given that he wasn't from Krypton, there was every chance that Kryptonite would have no effect at all on him. If Luthor was able to get hold of Kryptonite again, this time he would probably succeed in killing Superman. There was also a strong possibility that, with powers equal to Clark's own, he could kill Superman even without Kryptonite. He hung up after promising his parents that he'd be careful, and waited for Lois. At the same time, though, his brain was working overtime thinking through everything that Luthor could possibly be up to at this moment. He knew he should be out there tracking him down, trying to stop him; but Lois's safety had to come first. **************** Good, she was still there - and the overgrown boy scout was gone. Lex Luthor - SuperLex, as he was already calling himself - executed a wide circuit of the laboratory before dropping downwards. She exited the building and looked around her, probably, he thought, trying to figure out her way home, as he landed in front of her. "Lex!" Gretchen Kelly exclaimed. "I didn't know where you'd gone... I wasn't sure whether to wait...." "As if I'd abandon you, my sweet," he purred. "Let me take you home, and then I can thank you properly for everything you've done for me." She smiled in obvious delight - oh, how easy it was to fool women with a few compliments and admiring glances - and tucked her hand into his arm. "I'd love that, Lex. Should I call a cab?" His amused smile at that remark was totally genuine. "Why bother, when flying's not only cheaper, but much more fun besides?" Not that Lex Luthor had ever had to worry about money before... this being penniless was really beginning to grate. That fool Nigel should have tried harder to keep at least some of his assets from the hands of the law... but never mind. There would be plenty of time to remedy this situation. As he'd known she would, Gretchen became very excited at his suggestion, batting her eyelashes at him and moving closer to him. "Oh, Lex... that would be wonderful! You'll have to carry me, I guess," she added, reaching out her arms to him. In a swift movement, since he wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible in case anyone came looking - particularly as he had no idea what Superman might be up to right now - he swung her up into his arms and sped upwards. She screamed, and he had to clap one hand over her mouth. Stupid woman, he thought furiously, then realised from the way she was clinging to him for dear life that he'd probably taken off too quickly for human comfort. Too bad, he decided. She'd just have to put up with it. He'd obviously been paying her too much while she'd been his personal physician, Lex decided as she guided him to the balcony of her penthouse apartment. The monthly rent on this had to be several thousand dollars; on the other hand, he quickly decided as he scanned the apartment and the building which housed it, there were advantages. It was soundproofed, and had plenty of privacy. No-one would be disturbing them there. It would make the perfect hideaway... it was a shame.... For a moment, he began to rethink his plans for Gretchen Kelly. But it was probably safer to stick to his original decision; she was the only person, apart from Superman himself and Lois Lane - oh, and that puny little Waldecker man, but he could be dealt with - who knew that Super-powers could be transferred. It was just too much of a risk. And anyway, there were other apartments, and with his new... advantages, he could have what he wanted. Nothing would be beyond the reach of SuperLex. He turned to Gretchen. "Well, my sweet, aren't you going to show me around?" She smiled back, her hands wandering over his shoulders and biceps as she gazed hungrily at him. "Which room would you like to see first, Lex?" she murmured in what he recognised as her attempt at a seductive tone. He'd been around far too long, slept with too many women, to be impressed by her tactics; in fact, *before* - before his downfall and death - he would never have looked twice at Gretchen Kelly. She was too tall, her appearance far too butch, especially that cropped hair, and her manner too bossy. He admired intelligent women, but not women who wanted to prove themselves better than him. If it hadn't been for the fact that her crush on him had always been only too evident, he'd have believed that Dr Kelly was a lesbian; but she clearly liked men. And now, given that at present his choice was somewhat limited, she would do. It was probably a fair exchange, given that she'd resurrected him and found the means to give him Superman's powers. He therefore gazed down at her, moving his hands to span her waist lightly, summoning his most charming smile. "Oh, I think it always makes sense to start in the bedroom, don't you, my dear?" **************** Superman glided to a halt outside the Kent farmhouse, letting Lois slip lightly from his arms to the safety of the back yard. This had been the longest journey he'd ever flown with her in his arms, and it had been both pleasure and sheer torture. He loved flying with her, but he always had to keep at the forefront of his mind the need to ensure that she never associated him with Clark, and the importance of behaving circumspectly. He couldn't have her thinking that Superman was interested in her. So this journey had been difficult, holding her close to him as he'd had to, but it had helped that his thoughts were elsewhere for much of the journey. He had no idea where to start looking for Luthor - other than Lois's apartment - and no notion of what the older man intended to do now that he was super-powered. Leaving aside the baffling question of how exactly Dr Kelly had managed to resuscitate the ex-billionaire businessman, why had this happened? Did Luthor think that by possessing Super-powers, he could somehow evade the law? What did he think Superman would do? Or was part of his plan to kill Superman anyway? The only thing Clark had been sure about was that Lois figured in the man's plans somehow. He had intended to marry her, and he'd made no secret of the plans he had for Lois, that night when he'd lured Superman to that Kryptonite cage. Lois had been the ultimate trophy for Luthor: a beautiful, intelligent woman, who had represented quite a challenge... and, Clark was sure, who had been even more desirable for the fact that she'd also reputedly been pursued by Superman. And yet she wasn't quite perfect enough for Lex Luthor, who'd decided that he needed to control her, curb her independence. And then - according to Lois herself, a piece of information he was still trying to absorb - she had rejected him during the wedding ceremony! Before the police had arrived with their warrants, Lois had told the head of LexCorp that she couldn't marry him. That would have been an incredible blow to the man's pride; he wouldn't forgive that easily. It was very likely that he'd want to gain his revenge on Lois somehow. As she'd put it, she was clearly unfinished business. All the more reason why his decision to bring her here, to Smallville, had been the right one. She was standing gazing at him now, clearly wondering why he was simply standing there, not making any attempt to bring her inside or to leave. He had to pull himself together before she started wondering just what was going on inside his head. Sure, she would realise that Superman would be very concerned about this development; but that concern should manifest itself in depositing her in Smallville while he raced back to Metropolis to track down Luthor and deal with him. Deal with him... easier said than done, especially since Clark didn't want anyone else finding out that it was possible for his powers to be transferred! Feeling her hand on his forearm, he glanced downwards. "Ah, Lois?" "Are you okay, Superman? You seemed kind of... distracted." Concern was evident in her brown eyes. Forcing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he spoke in as casual a manner as he could manage. "I'm fine, Lois. We need to get inside - the Kents are expecting us." But she hesitated. "I guess... you're bothered about all this, aren't you? Lex with your powers... it's not going to be easy for you, is it?" As Clark, he might have confided in her, told her how worried he was about the harm Luthor could cause - might already have caused - but as Superman, somehow, he couldn't. With a brief smile, he answered, "It'll be fine, Lois. Trust me." Not allowing her time to respond, he marched firmly towards the back door of his parents' house. *************** Lex Luthor carefully disentangled himself from Gretchen Kelly's arms in the aftermath of their joining, trying at the same time not to allow her to see his distaste. The woman still had some uses, after all, even though her talents in the bedroom had been little better than he'd feared. Still, it had been a necessary price to pay, and he could console himself with the thought of superior pleasures to come once he'd reclaimed his fiancee. He turned his head towards Kelly and threw her a practised smile. "If you'll excuse me, my dear, I should go and get rid of this." He gestured towards the latex prophylactic he now held in his hand. There were more reasons than the simple desire for safe sex to use a condom these days, he reflected as he disposed of the item a minute later: he had no wish for DNA tests to establish his presence in Gretchen's bedroom. Wrapping a towel around his hand, he flushed the toilet, and then used the towel again to control the bathroom taps so that he could wash his hands. Using the couple of minutes of solitary peace as an opportunity to plan, Lex considered his options. Gretchen was no major problem; but once she was out of the way, he needed to work out how best to regain his former empire. His former associates would be easy enough to track down, but which of them could be trusted? Some had been responsible for giving evidence against him, otherwise the police would never have been able to gather enough evidence to arrest him and to convict other associates of his. He'd gleaned that much from the brief half-hour which was all he had been able to allow himself in the newspaper library at MetU after Gretchen had resuscitated him, and before his conversion into... he smiled again in satisfaction... SuperLex. Others.... Well, Asabi could be trusted, that was beyond question, and the manservant would also be very useful in the matter of helping him to learn control over some of these powers. Already he had discovered how easy it was to exert just too much strength: he'd almost broken Gretchen's arm and by her sharp cries of pain at one point he'd suspected that he'd cracked or broken a couple of her ribs. A charming, apologetic smile had convinced her not to make too much fuss at the time, though. But he did need to make sure he could control his abilities properly. Then there was Nigel: Nigel St John, the former member of the British Secret Service, who had certainly served him faithfully for several years - would he still be loyal? Luthor suspected so, although he had never been foolish enough to reward Nigel with his absolute trust. He was only too well aware that the man had double-crossed his former employers. Once a rat, always a rat... that was a motto well worth remembering, Lex reflected with a half-smile. But if Nigel couldn't be trusted, given the extent of his knowledge of Luthor's affairs it made far greater sense to have him inside the metaphorical tent rather than out: there, at least, Luthor could keep a close watch on him. And if Nigel did prove to be unreliable, then it wouldn't be difficult to deal with him. Mrs Cox was in prison; he'd have to decide whether it would be wiser to leave her there, or take the risk of breaking her out. Not a risk in the sense that he might get caught - hardly, with the abilities he now possessed. But she was a known associate who had been convicted of being an accessory to many of his offences. So if he did secure her release in a non-legal manner, the police would be looking for her. Not a good idea. As for regaining his empire and wealth... well, he would have to hope that his closest associates had not availed themselves of the opportunity provided by his death to track down his overseas deposits and hidden reserves. The gold, the Swiss and Channel Islands bank accounts, the stocks and shares held in his ex-wife's name... dear Arianna, he reflected suddenly. She was now in prison herself, after her rather crude attempt at framing Lois Lane for what should have been the murder of Superman. Botched, of course, he thought in amusement. Arianna was never the cleverest at coming up with a failsafe plan. Now, when *he* set out to kill Superman.... But he was getting ahead of himself here. First, he needed to acquire enough reserves of cash to start a dummy corporation and begin buying back the essential elements of his former business interests. He would need to do a lot of it legally, which would unfortunately take some time... but on the other hand, he was sure that with a little Super help he could speed a little of it up. Such as obtaining money: no need to wait until Nigel managed to sell some of the stocks. A quick flight to Switzerland with the necessary fake ID, since the accounts had not, of course, been established in the name of Lex Luthor; a similar trip to Jersey; and if that wasn't sufficient, then a midnight Super raid on one of the city's major banks should help. Luthor smiled to himself. Yes, it wouldn't be too difficult. But first, Gretchen. After pulling on the clothes which he'd brought with him into the bathroom, he returned to the bedroom. Still taking care not to touch anything with his bare hand, he sat on the edge of the bed, next to the doctor. She rolled over to look at him, clutching her chest with a groan as she did so. "Lex... you're going to have to take me to a hospital," she said grumpily. "I'm sure a couple of ribs are broken." "If you need an X-ray, I can do that for you," he replied smoothly. "Why wait around in an emergency room?" He made a careless gesture with his hand. "And since ribs can't be put in plaster, there's really no need for a hospital visit." She grimaced, then nodded. "Okay. If they are broken I can tell you how to bandage them." Rolling over to lie on her back, she threw back the sheet in an invitation for him to fulfil his promise. The sight of her naked body aroused no interest whatsoever in him, and his gaze swept her dismissively before returning to her face. "In a moment, Gretchen. I have a few questions for you first." "Questions?" Her tone was impatient this time. "Yes. About the transfer - is it permanent?" She rolled her eyes. "How do I know, Lex? All I have to go on is what I saw with that idiotic Resplendent Man! Superman was struck by lightning when he was holding the guy and suddenly the guy had his powers. Then a few days later I tried to transfer Waldecker's powers to you, but between them Superman and Lois Lane stopped me. Superman transferred the powers back to himself. But...." She paused, then shrugged carelessly, wincing as the movement caused pain in her damaged ribs. "I have no reason to believe that the transfer wouldn't have been permanent, and therefore no reason to believe yours won't be." Well, it would have to do, Lex acknowledged. And even if it wasn't permanent, he should be able to achieve a lot of what he wanted in a week. But there were other concerns. "What about Superman? He retained his powers last time - it was a duplication, not a transfer. Will he still have his powers this time?" "He does," Kelly replied, to his amazement. "How do you know?" She frowned at his impatient reply. "Because I saw him! Come on, Lex, you flew off and left me in that lab with him! He talked to me for a couple of minutes - he wanted to know what the Tesla coils were - and then he flew off. He *flew*! So of course I know he had his powers still." "All right, all right," Lex replied brusquely, brushing aside her annoyed explanation with a careless wave of his hand. "One more thing. If Kryptonite is poisonous to Superman, is it also poisonous to me?" Kelly's eyes widened: it seemed she hadn't thought of that before. After a moment or two, she spoke slowly in reply. "From what I know about Kryptonite, it affects Superman because it's a meteorite from his home planet. You're not from Krypton, so I can't see why you would be affected by it." "Excellent!" Lex murmured in satisfaction, a slow smile curving across his face. He returned his gaze to Gretchen. "Well, my dear, time to deal with you." She drew her body into a flat, rigid position on the bed, clearly expecting him to X-ray her. But that was not what he had in mind; he focused his gaze on her chest region, but instead of his X-ray abilities he selected heat vision. He had experimented with this earlier, when he'd gone for his practice flight, and had been amazed at how effective it was. Within moments Gretchen's screams had been silenced, and the smell of burning flesh was overpowering. "Get out of that one, Superman," Lex murmured in satisfaction as he swiftly made for the balcony and escape. *************** Martha and Jonathan Kent instantly made Lois feel welcome, assuring her that she could stay for as long as necessary. Mugs of coffee were pressed into her and Superman's hands; as Lois accepted hers, she watched Martha Kent fussing over Superman with a sense of amazement. Martha was *mothering* him - mothering Superman! Oh, sure, she'd done a bit of that a week or so ago, when the Super-hero had been blinded. But there was nothing wrong with Superman now - just another bad guy to catch and put away. So why was she doing it, and why was he letting her? He seemed to notice her gaze on him after a while, and he moved away from Martha, at the same time announcing that it was time he headed back to Metropolis. "You take care, so... Superman," Jonathan Kent said in a serious tone, giving the Super-hero a concerned glance. "I will, um... Mr Kent," Superman answered, a little awkwardly to Lois's mind. Martha hugged him, and to Lois's surprise he hugged her back warmly. She had no idea that Clark's parents were on such friendly terms with Superman! On the other hand, from what she'd been able to figure out over the past year, Clark seemed to be very friendly with Superman, so she guessed that it wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination to assume that perhaps Superman had flown Clark home from time to time, and had perhaps stayed for dinner a few times. After all, who could resist Martha Kent's cooking? Lois followed Superman outside, determined to have a moment or two to say goodbye privately. He seemed surprised at her presence, and gave her an enquiring glance. "Lois? Was there something you wanted?" "Just to say... be careful, big guy," she told him softly. "I'd hate it if you got hurt, you have to know that." He gave her a lop-sided smile in response. "Thanks, Lois. I'll be okay." "Yeah... but I'll be thinking of you," she persisted. Before he could take off, she took the couple of steps necessary to bring her into contact with him, and, placing one hand on his arm, reached up to kiss his cheek. He stayed perfectly still as she did so, only raising his hand as she stepped back. The touch of his fingers against her cheek was gossamer-light. "Thanks, Lois. I appreciate your concern. But you know I'll feel a lot happier knowing that you're safe here, so please stay here until I come to get you, okay?" She nodded, and at the same moment he lifted upwards, his large body leaving the ground with seemingly no effort at all. No matter how many times she'd seen him do that, it was still a hugely impressive sight, Lois thought as she gazed at him. A moment or two later he was out of sight, and she returned to the house. ***************** Tracking down Asabi and Nigel was not turning out to be as simple as he'd expected, Lex mused as he flew over the city a couple of hours after leaving Gretchen's apartment. For one thing, it wasn't as if either of them had an entry in the Metropolis telephone directory, and since they had both been resident in his penthouse apartment, his arrest and subsequent stunning death had rendered both homeless. And he didn't really want to go and knock on the doors of other former employees to ask whether they knew where his former associates were. He should have thought to ask Gretchen before killing her, he thought ruefully, not for the first time. And he was becoming increasingly conscious of another disadvantage of having dispatched her so precipitously: *he* was also homeless, and it had been a long time since Lex Luthor had suffered from the lack of a comfortable bed and expensive, freshly-laundered clothes to wear. That Kelly woman really should have taken more time to prepare for his return, he thought crossly. She should have known what he would need, and have provided it. His search was also severely hampered by the fact that he was having to keep an even lower profile than that necessitated by avoiding the long arm of the law. He was assuming that the do-gooder in blue would be looking for him, but as yet Lex was not ready to confront Superman. He needed a little more time to get used to these powers, to figure out the best means of attack against another similarly-powered being. Of course, he did have one rather heavy advantage in his favour compared to Superman, he thought cynically, landing on the roof of the Lexor Hotel to reconnoitre. The great boy scout had *ethics*! Superman wouldn't kill; Luthor doubted he would even injure someone deliberately unless he had no other option. So there were weapons Luthor could use against him which Superman would certainly not use in return. That should render the odds more than a little in Luthor's favour. That was all very well, but Luthor had discovered over the past hour or so that controlling the Super-powers wasn't quite as simple as he'd thought. He'd experimented with bursts of Super-speed, and had overshot his target on several occasions. He'd tried out his heat vision again and found himself unable to regulate it in order to achieve a variety of temperatures: so far, all he could produce was Hot and Furnace-like. That was okay in some circumstances, but not if all he wanted to do was to scare someone - or just heat up some food. At least he'd had a couple of minor successes. He'd managed to acquire a couple of changes of clothes, simply through strolling into a men's outfitters in a part of town which, in his former life, he would never have dreamed of frequenting, and using his Super-breath to cause a distraction. Then he'd just seized a number of items and departed at Super-speed. No matter that he'd ended up collapsed in a heap of refuse cans at the other side of the street; he'd got what he needed. And now, as he flew, he was wearing discreet black, from top to toe. He could do with a mask, though, he considered idly as he stared out across the city from the superb vantage-point afforded by the Lexor's rooftop. Something stylish, not a gangster's mask or anything scruffy like a balaclava. No, what he really needed was... he smiled in sudden amusement. A domino and matching silk eye-mask, such as English ladies and gentlemen used to wear to masquerade balls and places like Vauxhall Gardens in the late seventeenth century. And he could picture himself in a domino, he reflected. It would look suitably dashing; stylish and mysterious at the same time. It would also go rather well with the stylish but strong leather gloves he'd also acquired earlier. he mused thoughtfully, before deciding that it would probably have to be one of London's museums. Possibly the British Museum; not the Victoria and Albert, since that covered too late a period. Or even a theatrical outfitters, if he wasn't too concerned about it being the genuine article. In fact, a reproduction would probably be better, he decided. It would be less likely to be moth-eaten, and might actually stand up to the rigours of being used as the trademark SuperLex costume. Not that he was ready to make his official debut as an anti-hero just yet. He wanted to cause just a little more trouble for theMan of Steel first, and preferably dispatch him permanently this time. A smile of genuine amusement crossed his craggy features as he imagined standing over the dead, broken and bleeding body of the man whose ego had led him to call himself Superman. That image firmly embedded in his mind, Luthor raised himself into the air again and headed east, calculating the time in London as he did so. ***************** He wasn't having much luck tracking down Luthor, Clark had to admit by the small hours of the morning. It didn't help that he kept getting distracted by minor emergencies, as well as a couple of less minor ones; but then, what could he do? As much as he wanted to catch Luthor, figure out a way of divesting him of his powers (and at the moment Clark had absolutely no idea how to achieve that), and throw him in prison, he couldn't ignore calls for help. And anyway, any one of those calls for help could actually lead him to Lex Luthor. He was pretty sure that Luthor was responsible for at least two of the incidents he'd been called to. There had been that weird robbery at a men's outfitters on the west side of town: the assistant had described a heavy object apparently collapsing of its own accord, and almost immediately afterwards it had seemed as if a mini-tornado had swept through the shop. When they'd managed to set all the racks back upright again, they'd noticed several of the more expensive items of clothing missing. That had to have been Luthor, Clark was sure. And, later, the bank robbery.... a bank alarm had brought him to a suburban branch of the First Bank of Metropolis, to find himself staring at a gaping hole in the side wall, leading into the safe. A safe which was not completely empty, oddly enough, but then the bank manager, who had also been summoned to the scene by the alarm, explained the mystery. The safe had contained both new and used notes, and while the serial numbers on the new notes were both consecutive and known to the bank, those on the used notes were not. The hole in the wall, Clark had concluded, could not have been made by any mechanical device. It had been a Super-powered blow. And there were no fingerprints. So he must have stolen a pair of gloves from the outfitters as well - and a pretty sturdy pair, at that. But despite the fact that Clark had to have been only minutes behind Luthor at each of these incidents, he still hadn't managed to find the man. Luthor must have accustomed himself to his new abilities very quickly, Clark recognised with a tightening of his lips. Still, he would keep looking if it took him all night and all the following day, and even into the day after that. Thankfully, Superman didn't need sleep, and although his energy reserves might well run low overnight, with the coming of sunrise he would be able to recharge himself. And in fact, there was an interesting point. *His* powers came from exposure to the Earth's sun. Luthor's came from a power transfer. So did that mean that the sun would have the same rejuvenating effect on Luthor as it did on himself? Again, Luthor not being Kryptonian, Clark suspected not. Which meant that the man would not necessarily have Clark's staying power and could run out of energy without a good night's sleep. The question was: would Luthor assume that his new powers gave him limitless reserves of energy? If he did, then that would be his weak spot. He would get tired, and his powers would fade. Unless he realised that, like other humans, he still needed a good night's sleep, or was so ingrained in normal patterns of behaviour that he does it anyway, Clark reasoned. But if Luthor did - well, all Clark had to do was find out where he was sleeping and catch him unawares. So where would Lex Luthor go? Since his attempts at trying to catch the guy by simply patrolling were having no success, Clark flew to one of the city's best vantage points, the Daily Planet roof, and began to think. he told himself, wishing that Lois was at home so that he could go and discuss this with her. She was alwaysfar better at this type of thing than he; apart from her talent for logic and analysis, she frequently had flashes of inspiration which were nothing short of brilliance. Okay, so Luthor couldn't go to his old penthouse home; the old LexCorp building had been sold and was now owned, as far as Clark knew, by the owner of a family-owned discount supermarket chain. Where else would he go? He was wanted by the police - or he would be, once they became aware of his resurrection. So he couldn't be seen publicly, unless he intended to use his powers to fight off police officers everywhere he went. He had no money and no access to any, since all of his business interests and accounts had been frozen, the assets initially seized by the police and later dispersed according to Luthor's will. Friends, family? But his ex-wife was in jail. His former secretary, Mrs Cox, was also in jail. Clark paused, racking his brain. Lois had mentioned, in one of the very rare conversations they had had concerning her time as Luthor's fiancee, a couple of men who'd seemed to be essential to Luthor's organisation. Now who...? He didn't really want to have to fly out to Smallville to ask her; he'd found it difficult enough to maintain the facade of being Superman, a mere acquaintance of the Kents', during his brief visit there earlier. And his parents had found it difficult to hide their concern for him; he'd noticed Lois looking somewhat surprised when his mother had been so attentive, and he'd thought her jaw was about to drop to the floor when his mom had hugged him. No, it was best to keep away from Smallville for the moment. So who...? An English name, he thought, and an English *man* - that was it, Nigel St John! Lois had said the man was quite a bit older than Luthor, and 'distinguished,' whatever that meant. Okay, well, a search through the Planet databases might help him there, at least to obtain a photograph. And the other man... foreign, Lois had said. Indian, that was it. A manservant, and something else besides - Lois had said the man seemed to exert some degree of influence over Luthor, in the way a counsellor or a spiritual advisor might. Lois had sarcastically referred to the man as Luthor's Rasputin, Clark recalled. He frowned; was it possible that Luthor would allow himself to be influenced to that extent by anyone? The man he'd known had been very assured, completely in control, with that absolute arrogance of a man who answered to no-one. Still, if Lois had seen this other man, mystic, charlatan or whoever he was, Clark was not about to disbelieve her. And if the man had worked for Luthor, Clark was pretty sure he could find some record of the guy's existence. Less than a minute later, Clark Kent sat in front of his computer in the darkened newsroom. ***************** Some hours later, Clark leaned back in his chair and stretched wearily; he needed to get out and fly around for a while, he thought as he shut down his computer. Although he wasn't affected by normal human tiredness or stiffness, he really didn't care for sitting in the same position for hours on end. Still, it had been a useful exercise. He'd been through all the Planet archive material on Lex Luthor, as well as a number of other archives which he'd been able to access - legitimately and otherwise - via the Internet, and had reminded himself of a number of salient facts, as well as having acquainted himself with some of Luthor's former associates. And a lot of pieces were beginning to fall into place, once he started systematically putting clues together and making deductions. He'd always suspected that Luthor was behind the sabotage of the Messenger: he'd found circumstantial evidence which suggested that the man had made some large payments to Toni Baines, which explained a lot. There had been an obscure gossip column item which linked Luthor to a certain perfumiere known only as Miranda, which raised another question in Clark's mind. And then there was the fact that Lex Luthor had ultimately provided the funding for the laboratory in which Dr Fabian Leek had worked... which meant that Luthor could have been behind the Superman clone. Clark thought as he disappeared at Super-speed up the stairwell towards the Planet roof. Taking off, he focused his mind on the photograph he'd finally found of Nigel St John; it was old, and a little hazy, but Clark was sure he would recognise the man. And something else occurred to him then: a description given to him by Jack of the two men who had purchased the globe from him nearly a year ago. One of them had been tall, old, with a British accent, Jack had said... English, Clark now mentally corrected the boy. After all, he thought idly, 'British' could equally mean Scottish, and Scottish accents are very different.... But there was no time to allow his mind to wander over trivialities, he reminded himself. He needed to find Nigel St John. Or Asabi, as he'd now discovered Luthor's manservant was called. That was the only name he'd found, and he'd no idea whether it was a first name or a surname. But his Super-hearing kicked in, alerting him to a major disaster at O'Hare Airport in Chicago, and with a sigh he realised that tracking down Luthor and his associates would have to wait... again. At least he'd taken the time earlier that evening to write a note for Perry, from Superman, telling the Planet's editor that a former adversary of Lois's (unnamed) had resurfaced and that he'd taken Lois away somewhere temporarily for her own safety. He was well aware that the editor would be extremely taken aback by this, since Lois was by no means a person to run away from danger, but on the other hand, he knew that Perry respected Superman and he was pretty sure that the older man would believe that the Super-hero could persuade Lois to take his advice. For now, at any rate. **************** Having been assured that she needn't get up as early as Clark's parents, Lois allowed herself the luxury of an hour's lie-in the following morning. It was strange being back in Smallville, though Martha and Jonathan couldn't have been more welcoming. But there had been a couple of things she hadn't been able to get out of her mind. To begin with, ever since dinner the previous evening she'd had a strange nagging sensation that there was something she'd forgotten, or that she should have thought about, and she still had no idea what that might have been. And the second was that she thought that Jonathan had gone rather quiet when she'd mentioned, late the previous night, that she hoped Superman would find Luthor and reverse the power transfer soon - it had seemed for a moment as if the Kents were as worried about Superman as she was, if not more so. And yet that didn't really make sense - they barely knew him! Okay, Superman was a friend of their son's, so, as she'd rationalised the previous evening, they probably had met him more times than she was aware of. And she knew that Superman did prefer to keep his private life *private,* so no doubt Clark simply hadn't mentioned it in order to protect his friend. Lois thought, punching her pillow. Well, she was in Smallville for the next couple of days anyway, although she was still dubious as to whether she should have gone along with Superman's persuasion. He had been a little difficult to say no to at the time, and he'd actually managed to find one of her few weak spots by mentioning that time she'd been with Lex Luthor. Not that she thought he'd done it deliberately, but she really hated being reminded of the person she'd been then: a woman who had put wealth and social position above her integrity, or so it now seemed. Even at the time, she'd known she wasn't in love with the man - she'd been in love with Superman, for heaven's sake - and yet she'd accepted his proposal. She had absolutely no idea what could have made her do the things she'd done then. To accept Lex Luthor's proposal! - okay, she'd had no idea just how evil he was, although if she was being honest with herself she had to admit that Clark had expressed his reservations about the man often enough. And although Perry had always been polite to Luthor whenever they'd met, Lois had sensed a certain reserve in the older man. She herself had begun by simply using Luthor's obvious attraction to her as a means of getting closer to him, to get that exclusive one-on-one interview; until Superman had somewhat distracted her. Yet she had continued to meet the billionaire from time to time, accepting the occasional date with him, using her connection with him when necessary for work purposes; and in all that time she *hadn't* made any serious effort to investigate him, and she'd slapped down Clark on several occasions when he'd suggested that it might be a worthwhile idea. She blanched as she remembered the time Luthor had constructed an exact replica of her apartment, as a means of persuading her to escape with him from the Nightfall Asteroid and live underground in his nuclear bunker. She'd turned him down, while astonished at his offer, and certainly his actions in recreating her apartment had unnerved her then. But perhaps she'd forgotten it all in the excitement and relief of Superman's destruction of the asteroid; she couldn't otherwise understand why she hadn't immediately concluded that he was a dangerous weirdo. She had been so superficial! Hanging on the every word of the man, as if he was infallible, while ignoring or talking down to other people - like Clark, who may well have been jealous, but had also been *right*! She'd acted like some silly groupie around Lex Luthor; she couldn't have blamed her friends if they'd imagined she'd had a personality transplant. And for all she knew that was what they'd concluded - not many of them had stayed in touch after her engagement. Apart from the superficial ones who'd wanted the connection with the wife of the world's third richest man, she reminded herself with a grimace. So now, six months later, that was a period of her life she'd almost tried to block out of her mind. She'd been *glad* Lex had committed suicide; not that she would ever wish for anyone's death, but his dramatic act had freed her from any need to testify at his trial, any approaches from his solicitors or staff to visit him in prison, and - so she'd thought - any chance of ever seeing him again. The knowledge that he was dead and therefore completely out of the way had been the one thing which had helped her through those dreadful few weeks immediately after the abortive wedding. No, not the only thing, she remembered suddenly. The other thing she couldn't have coped without was the support of her best friend, Clark. Despite the rift which had formed between them over her engagement to Lex Luthor, he'd been there for her when she'd needed him. He had made it clear, in his usual unassuming manner, that if she wanted company, or needed to talk, all she had to do was just pick up the phone, any time, day or night. And he'd meant it, too; there'd been many nights when they'd talked on the phone for half an hour or more until she'd felt calm enough to sleep, or when he'd got dressed and come over. Somehow - and she'd never asked him how - he'd usually found somewhere to buy ice-cream or fresh pastries on the way; comfort food. Now, Clark held a very special place in her life, and there were times when she wondered just what he meant to her. She already knew that without his presence her life would be very empty in many ways; she simply couldn't imagine what it would be like not having him around. And, a couple of months earlier, she'd got a taste of precisely what it could be like not to have Clark around, when he'd been shot by the clone of a 1920s gangster. He'd fallen to the floor, killed instantly, right in front of her. And she'd cried all night and most of the following day, with only the driving need to catch his killers keeping her going. And then he'd come back to her... by some miraculous chance, Superman had found his body and rejuvenated it using Dr Hamilton's methods. Clark was alive again, and her future had suddenly seemed so much brighter. Then, she really had wondered... but Clark had fallen asleep, and later she'd begun to doubt her feelings. After all, she'd thought she was in love before, only to realise that it had been infatuation, or that the object of her devotion simply let her down. No, it was far safer to keep Clark as a friend. But she'd owed Superman big-time for his work that day. Yet, when she'd tried to thank him later, he'd simply looked embarrassed and told her that he'd had more selfish motives in mind, since he had wanted Clark back too. And come to think of it, Clark had also been very reticent when she'd tried to talk to him about it afterwards. Once she'd recovered from the shock and delight of his return, she'd tried to quiz him on how it felt to have been dead and brought back to life, but - unusually for Clark - he'd become withdrawn and had told her it wasn't really an experience he wanted to discuss. It was certainly an amazing technique, Lois mused now as she began to think about getting up. How many people's loved ones could have been brought back to life if Superman hadn't destroyed Dr Hamilton's notes? On the other hand, she reminded herself, Bonnie and Clyde and the others weren't the *originals,* they were clones - and experimentation in clone technology was closely regulated for a good reason. Clones were still notoriously unstable, which wouldn't give much comfort to a grieving spouse - you can have your husband back, but he could drop dead again any day? Not something Lois would want. And the ease of obtaining DNA meant that criminals could clone anyone they wanted - even Superman, as someone had done once before. And the resurrection of Lex Luthor from the dead was another grim reminder that such methods could easily be used for evil as much as good. Determining to banish Luthor from her mind until she'd at least had a cup of coffee, she sat up in bed, leaning back against the headboard as she planned her day. She'd insisted on bringing her lap-top, so she could at least carry on working on some of her ongoing stories. Superman had promised to explain to Perry why she'd left town, although her location was to remain a secret. It was too bad that she couldn't write up the story of Luthor's return, although she understood Superman's insistence that it had to be kept secret; the fact that his powers could be transferred just couldn't be allowed to get out. And after all, she'd remembered guiltily just after he'd told her why she couldn't write about it that only earlier the same day he'd told her how much he appreciated her discretion in relation to things which couldn't become public knowledge. Her gaze wandered idly around Clark's bedroom; it wasn't the first time she'd slept there, although it had felt very strange the previous evening sitting with his parents but without him. The room itself looked as if it had changed little since his college days: there were team pennants, schoolbooks, photos of her partner as a very young man and other memorabilia around the walls and the shelves. If nothing else, she thought with a secretive smile, this would give her an excellent opportunity to learn a little more about her best friend's background without him even being aware of it.... Clark! The thought struck her suddenly, and she jumped out of bed, standing staring into the middle distance as she realised just what had been nagging at her since last night. She was here, in Smallville, in Clark's childhood home, hiding from a super-powered Lex Luthor. But where was Clark? And why had no-one mentioned him since she'd arrived? Oh, Martha had chattered on about his childhood, and his ambitions on leaving school, but neither Kent had mentioned Clark *now,* had asked about their work at the Planet, or even mentioned when they'd last spoken to him. And yet they were such a close family; it just didn't make sense that they wouldn't speak of him. And anyway, why hadn't he called last night? He'd have to know where she was - it was inconceivable that Superman wouldn't have told him. So why hadn't he called? And... she paused then, sitting down on the edge of the bed to think this through. Could Clark be in danger too? Lex had never liked him - had been jealous of him, in fact, Lois had suspected. It had given her a sense of cynical amusement, since she'd known of Clark's jealousy of Lex. Though she'd never understood why Lex Luthor, wealthy sophisticate, business magnate and highly influential individual - he could speak to presidents and chief executives the world over simply by picking up the phone and giving his name - should be jealous of a pretty ordinary guy from Kansas. But Lex certainly had not liked Clark. Could he dislike him enough to want to kill him? The thought sent a chill through Lois, and she tried to think this through rationally. Apart from his jealousy, what could he dislike about Clark? Well, Clark had never hidden his dislike of Luthor, for a start; and Lex, used to commanding respect from all about him, would not have liked that. And.... She bit her lip. Although it had been a group effort, both Jimmy and Perry had assured her that Clark had been largely instrumental in finding the evidence to convince the police that Lex was behind the destruction of the Planet, and much more besides. So Lex could be after him for revenge, if he knew about that. No, that was silly, she told herself. Lots of people were involved in bringing Luthor down: Perry, Jimmy, Jack, Inspector Henderson and his team, the directors who talked - was Luthor going to kill everyone who'd helped to destroy him? But this was Lex Luthor, she reminded herself slowly. A cold-blooded killer, from what had been discovered about him in the aftermath of his death. A merciless, ruthless man without scruples and who was now in possession of deadly powers. Yes, Luthor could kill anyone he wanted to, with just one look; one move of the hand; one freezing breath; one puff of wind. It was not inconceivable that he might decide to spread his net of revenge wider than Superman had thought... or than Superman had told her he thought, she amended. But Superman couldn't protect everyone... and in the meantime, where was Clark? She reached for her cellphone and called his desk at the Planet. ***************** It was late morning by the time Clark managed to get back to Metropolis; the 'major incident' at O'Hare had turned out to be a crash involving two jumbo jets, and had led to several fatalities and a couple of hundred injured people, some with serious injuries. He had arrived in time to prevent the engines on either plane exploding, much to the relief of everyone present, and he'd felt obliged to stay around and help free the trapped passengers and cabin crew from the wreckage, although his thoughts during the entire process were back in Metropolis. What was Lex Luthor up to? Where was he? What menace was he plotting? And how far would he go to exact revenge on those against whom he bore a grudge? Clark had realised, during his archive searches for information, that Luthor could well intend to seek revenge on a number of people who'd been involved in his fall from grace, and so he'd begun to question his initial decision to keep the resurrection of the former head of LexCorp secret. Maybe the police should be informed... but on the other hand, there was the fact of the power transfer. Clark still didn't want the fact that such a thing was possible to become common knowledge; he didn't want anyone to know about it, if it could be avoided. Other than his parents, he'd only told Lois about Luthor's powers, and he was well aware that if she hadn't already known that transfer was possible he would have been very reluctant to tell her anything. Yet he would still have done his best to get her out of town, he mused wryly on his flight back to Metropolis. Naturally... and she would have resisted with every breath in her body, insisting that she wanted to know whatthe so-called danger was. He sighed; he really would have to tell her his secret soon. And yet... yet, she was an award-winning reporter, for heaven's sake! She knew him - *both* of him - better than anyone except his parents, and still she had never been able to see that they were the same person! She considered Clark to be her best friend. She had spent more time with Superman than anyone else on the planet, even his parents, and she hadn't seen the resemblance, had never seen Clark in the Super-hero. It was highly ironic, he realised, that in the beginning he'd felt only relief that Lois had been fooled by the disguise, whereas now he felt let down, almost betrayed, that she hadn't seen through the cape and the Spandex to the real man underneath. That made him wonder whether that odd sense of betrayal had anything to do with his inability to come to a decision about telling her Superman's real identity. It was possible... and his mother would no doubt tell him that it wasn't fair. But - His thoughts were interrupted by his Super-hearing kicking in and picking up a police radio. Someone was putting out a call for an ambulance and asking whether anyone could contact Superman. He ducked downwards, trying to work out where the original call was coming from; after a moment or two, he located the unmarked police car parked outside a block of expensive apartment buildings. Landing in front of the car, he asked the uniformed officer using the radio what he could do to help. He was very taken aback by the cool, almost hostile expression on the officer's face. "Superman - maybe you'd like to come upstairs with me?" the officer invited, in a tone which didn't really represent an invitation. Clark frowned, puzzled, but followed the officer willingly enough, curious as to what this was about. Inside the apartment, the officer led the way into a bedroom, but Clark's nostrils had already been assailed by the unpleasant smell of burnt flesh. To him it was a very strong smell, though he guessed that most humans wouldn't notice it until they were inside the bedroom. There was a figure lying on the bed, covered by a light sheet, and three other people in the room. One of them was a man Clark instantly recognised: Inspector Bill Henderson, of the homicide division, a man he and Lois frequently crossed swords with, but whom he respected. "Inspector Henderson, what can I do to help?" he asked in a pleasant tone. Henderson swung around and stared at him; the man's expression was unreadable, but something about it made Clark feel uncomfortable. The other two occupants of the room - one uniformed female officer, one plainclothes man - threw him hostile stares. "What's going on?" Clark demanded then, moving closer. "Is there a problem?" Instead of replying, Henderson lifted the sheet from the figure on the bed. Clark's first instinct was to recoil at what he saw, but he forced himself to look again, and he recognised Gretchen Kelly. Luthor had killed her! And he could see why the officers were giving him such pointed stares. Dr Kelly had been killed by what looked like a blast of heat vision, and it had been done in such a way as to burn a crudely-crafted 'S' into her chest - the 'S' shape of the El symbol on his costume. **************** Lex Luthor stood, arms crossed over his chest, on top of the tallest building in Metropolis. He was a little tired, but feeling very pleased with himself. Only a short time before, he had been hovering above Gretchen Kelly's apartment building and had seen the police arrive, called by the woman's cleaner, who had found the body. From the conversations he'd overheard, the so-called Man of Steel would have some explaining to do. Lex smiled, wondering just what the mighty blue apparition would say to explain this. If his reading of the situation was correct, Superman would not be anxious to allow anyone to know that his powers could be transferred. His behaviour in respect of the Waldecker man certainly indicated that. Therefore he wouldn't be in any rush to identify the perpetrator; in fact, he would probably decide to deal with the situation himself. Superman was highly unlikely to inform the police that Lex Luthor lived, because he couldn't give them that information without also telling them that Luthor was now Super-powered. Which, in turn, meant... Lex smiled again. It meant that he was free to carry on unfettered for some time to come without his return becoming public knowledge; which meant that some former acquaintances of his would very soon get quite a surprise. Including Lois Lane. Although he was still smiling, Luthor's eyes grew cold. He had offered that woman everything! His hand in marriage, a share of his life, his fortune, all of his possessions - and she had had the temerity to reject him at the altar. After everything he had done for her - buying the Daily Planet so that he could become closer to her, offering her - and that thankless partner of hers, Kent - jobs at LNN when the Planet had mysteriously been destroyed, and then bestowing on her the highest honour he could offer a woman, she had betrayed him utterly. "Was ever a man so deceived?" he murmured to himself, gazing into the middle distance in the general direction of the Planet building. Lois Lane. Her reputation had preceded her by a long way, of course, and so when she'd dramatically caught his attention at the White Orchid Ball he'd known who she was. However, Lois Lane's reputation had not told him that she was beautiful; that she had quicksilver eyes which missed nothing; that her laughter was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard; that her quick intelligence and lively conversation would charm him - he, who had been bored by more beautiful women than he could remember. He'd had to have her, but she'd eluded him; made it clear that she wasn't interested in a casual liaison; simply hadn't taken him seriously. He'd tried to forget her: after all, she was a reporter, and at the Daily Planet of all places. The Planet was not an entirely committed supporter of Lex Luthor and all his endeavours; the second time he'd been voted Man of the Year Perry White had had the gall to write an op-ed piece raising questions about the source of some of his income and his apparently easy success in business. Never one to show his hand to his enemies, he'd replied with a charming, witty and self-deprecating letter which had been published on the Planet's letters page. But he hadn't forgotten. His eventual strike against the Planet had been as much in revenge against Perry White as it had been part of his strategy to acquire Lois. For he'd been compelled to have her. Nigel, of course, had insisted that it was all the fault of that stupid woman Miranda and her pheromone compound, that it wasn't love at all. But he didn't believe that for one instant. Lex Luthor, who had believed himself incapable of feelings for any fellow human being - apart from dislike or contempt, of course - had fallen in love with Lois Lane. And so he'd set out to woo her and to win her. And he'd succeeded, and he had been *that* close to getting what he wanted - what he deserved. Lois Lane, as his wife, in his bed, in his life. Of course, he would have had to put a stop to her job at LNN - it wouldn't have been especially difficult, just a few hints about the work taking up too much of her time, not allowing her to travel with him when his business interests took him away from Metropolis; or perhaps her line manager could have questioned the conflict of interest created by Lois's being married to the boss. And once she was no longer earning her own living, it would have been no difficult task to control her still further, to quell that independent streak she had and which really did irritate him. It would have been a perfect marriage. But she'd had the temerity to tell him she couldn't marry him, to jilt him at the altar! It was almost a relief to him now that the police had burst in just at that precise moment, for it meant that probably no-one else who'd been present had realised, other than himself and the Archbishop. No-one humiliated Lex Luthor like that and got away with it, he mused, his lips tightening. Lois Lane would pay for her defiance; oh, he still wanted her, but if she didn't want to marry him then marriage would no longer be on offer. There would be other ways. What was it Shakespeare's Benedick said about women? he mused as he began to drift upwards, the black silk domino drifting around him as he did so, the hem becoming a little entangled in his legs (how did that Spandex-clad Boy Wonder do it?!). That was it... 'That a woman conceived me, I thank her: that she brought me up, I give her the most humble thanks: but ... I will do myself the right to trust none.' **************** Clark hadn't answered his desk phone. His pager was switched off. His cellphone was switched off and its message storage facility was full. He wasn't answering his home phone. She'd eventually called Perry, after first speaking to Jimmy who'd told her that Clark hadn't been seen at the Planet all morning. Perry had, first, been concerned for her safety; it seemed Superman had left him a message that she was in danger and he'd removed her from Metropolis for her own protection. So at least he'd remembered to tell Perry, she'd reflected, before assuring him that she was *fine* and would be working on her stories so anyone who had any information for her should email it to her. She could pick up her Daily Planet email remotely, thankfully, so being in Smallville shouldn't be too much of a problem. Another thing had quickly become obvious from her conversation with Perry: he had no idea that the danger from which Superman had removed her was the return of Lex Luthor. Of course, she should have expected that given the way the Super-hero had insisted that Luthor's return and his acquisition of Super-powers should be kept secret. It wouldn't be possible, after all, to reveal one and not the other. So she'd brushed over her editor's questions about what trouble she was in this time and demanded to know whether he'd seen Clark. His answer was the one she'd been dreading: not only had Clark not been seen at the Planet all morning, but he hadn't called in either. No-one had heard from him. It was as if he'd simply vanished. She'd ended the call with an almost-frozen expression on her face. Clark was missing. No wonder Jonathan and Martha hadn't mentioned him at all the previous evening. They must already have known that he'd gone missing - after all, if he'd been around, if he'd been okay, he would have called. He'd have wanted to speak to her, to assure himself that *she* was okay - she knew her partner well enough to know that. And she hadn't asked his parents about him, and they hadn't mentioned it; but they wouldn't, because she wasn't family and they were only letting her stay because Superman, Clark's friend, had asked them. If they really considered her to be 'family,' as Martha had recently suggested, then they'd have told her of their fears. So... she couldn't ask them what they knew about Clark's whereabouts: they clearly didn't want to discuss it with her, and they'd consider it an intrusion. No, if she was going to track Clark down, she'd have to do it on her own. She should have thought of this before; she was kicking herself that she hadn't. She knew Clark almost better than anyone, except his parents. He'd been worried about her the previous day, because she'd been sick - okay, he hadn't known it was just her time of the month, but that was irrelevant. She knew what Clark was like: any time she was sick, or worried, or in danger, he clucked over her protectively like a mother hen! At any other time, Clark would have been knocking on her apartment door as soon as he'd finished work, probably with some chocolate, or ice-cream, or some other delicacy he knew she liked. And yet, yesterday evening he hadn't come. Why not? Because he couldn't? Because Luthor had already got to him? Because he was already... dead...? Lois gulped, forcing herself to pretend she hadn't even thought that horrible word. She couldn't lose Clark again, she just couldn't! Not after the other time; no, it would just be too unfair. Clark had to be all right. He had to be safe, and well, and just... just busy somewhere. Collecting his mail. Returning a video. At the optician's. Or having his hair cut. He'd probably just forgotten to call in to the Planet to say he'd be late. He'd probably turned up by now, all smiles as usual, completely unaware that anyone was worrying about him. Maybe.... She reached for her cellphone again, hitting the shortcut for Clark's Planet number. The phone rang, to be answered within a few seconds. Her heart thudded in sheer relief... ...until she recognised Eduardo's voice. "Clark Kent's desk?" "Oh - Eduardo, it's Lois. Where's Kent?" "Not showed in today, Lois. The Chief's been looking for him, too - wanted him to cover some weird bank robbery that happened last night." What was weird about it? Lois wondered, but wasn't curious enough right now to ask. "So he still hasn't called in?" "Nope - not that I know of." Lois cut the connection without saying goodbye, immediately hitting the shortcut for Clark's pager. Again, no response, and his cellphone was still switched off. His apartment phone was still on answering machine, and despite her pleas to him to pick up the phone, no Clark could be found. And it was now just after noon in Metropolis; this wasn't simply a case of someone having an appointment on the way to work. Lois scrambled off the bed, throwing a few things into her briefcase, and hurried downstairs. ****************** Clark stared in disbelief at the mutilation of Gretchen Kelly's body. Someone had wanted to go out of their way to give him a message, and he had a pretty good idea who that 'someone' was. He raised his gaze then to look across at Inspector Henderson, and what he saw in the older man's face made him take a sharp intake of breath. "You think *I*...?" He was barely able to believe it, but it was clear that the police believed he'd - Superman had - killed Dr Kelly. "Superman, we need your thoughts on how that mark could have been made," Henderson drawled laconically. "And from what we've been able to ascertain, there's no sign of any forced entry or exit. The main door to the apartment was locked and bolted. But the balcony door was open - and this place is on the fifteenth floor. So I'd be interested in any ideas you have on that too." If he hadn't known who was responsible for this, Clark would have found it easier to hypothesise, to offer alternative explanations for these circumstances. But as it was, he felt helpless. "Yeah, that mark could be made by heat vision, or it could be something else," he offered at last, but he was aware that his words, and his hesitant tone, to say nothing of the long silence, had not helped allay anyone's suspicions. At Henderson's sceptical look, he added incredulously, "Come on! You know me, Inspector - would I do this? And even if I had, would I advertise my handiwork by burning my symbol into her chest?" At this, Henderson shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time someone wanted to show off." "Yeah, and it's not as if anyone could do anything to stop *you,* Superman," the woman uniformed officer added, her tone derisive. Although he was aware that the circumstantial evidence looked bad, Clark was somewhat hurt that the police were so willing to condemn him - especially Bill Henderson, with whom he'd had many encounters as Superman and whom he'd helped on many occasions. Unable to prevent himself, Clark swivelled his gaze to rest on the woman officer. "No, you couldn't," he answered her in clipped tones. "So what's to stop me doing the same to you?" He allowed his gaze to drift over her; he achieved some small satisfaction from seeing her flinch in fear, and hated himself for it. "Oh, don't be silly, he won't hurt you!" Henderson snapped, glaring at the officer, and Clark swung back to face the detective, a challenging expression on his face. Henderson clearly recognised the message in Superman's expression, and allowed his own expression to relax a little. "Well, if this isn't your handiwork - and I never thought it was - what do you know about it?" Clark hesitated. Only a short time earlier he'd been wondering whether it might not be sensible to tell someone on the police force he could trust about Luthor. Now, he had the perfect opportunity; did he want to do it? He returned Henderson's silent gaze for a moment or two, then spoke firmly. "Can we talk privately, Inspector?" "Sure." Henderson led the way into the kitchen, shutting the door firmly behind Clark. Clark's first action, however, was to scan the room to ensure that no-one was there or in an adjoining room, and that there was no way they could be overheard. Then he turned to meet Henderson's gaze. "First of all, those marks are made with heat vision," he confirmed briefly. "And I didn't do it." "Never thought you did, Superman," Henderson repeated his earlier assurance. "Yeah, some of those guys out there weren't so sure - they thought you'd gone bad. She's had sex recently too." "You think rape?" Clark asked. "Not sure, but it looks like there are bruises developing on her arms and upper thighs." It could have been rape; Clark knew Luthor was capable of just about anything. The man had no scruples. "I guess there'll be an autopsy, but I can take another look with X-ray vision if you want a preliminary report," he offered, almost hoping the detective wouldn't take him up on it. The expression of shock and agonising pain on Gretchen Kelly's face wasn't something he wanted to see again in a hurry. "If you wouldn't mind, Superman, that would help," Henderson agreed laconically. "So..." he added in a more careful drawl, "if it wasn't you, and it was heat vision...?" "How do you know I'm the only Super-powered being around?" Clark asked, playing for time. "Well, no-one's seen anyone else," Henderson answered. "Okay, sure, there was that puny guy calling himself Resplendent Man, but he disappeared pretty quick. And this sure ain't his MO any more than it is yours." The detective leaned back against a counter. "My instincts are telling me you know who did this. And if you don't want me to ask you to come down to the precinct with me to be charged with withholding information from the police...." Clark held up his hand. "It won't come to that, Inspector. Look, this is something I don't really want becoming public knowledge, okay? I realise this is a murder investigation, and you need to know, but this is important." The detective was silent for a few moments, then he nodded. "Okay, Superman, I guess I know you well enough to know you wouldn't hold out on us without a reason. Let's have it." Clark nodded. "Okay. You know who that woman was?" At Henderson's interjection of Dr Kelly's name, he continued. "Yes. She was also Lex Luthor's doctor, and a scientist whose research was funded by him." He saw Henderson's eyes widen slightly, but there was no other response. "She also stole his body from its grave, and was responsible for stealing it again a few weeks ago," Clark added. This time there was a response. "*She* did? Why? Did he dump her or something? She want to desecrate his grave?" "No, she wanted to bring him back to life," Clark answered quietly. Henderson stared at him in slack-jawed disbelief. "Yeah, she did," he emphasised. "I know - I was there when one of her experiments went wrong. But I made a mistake. I thought she was crazy, and that it just wasn't possible." "You... made a mistake," Henderson repeated slowly. "You mean...?" "I mean Luthor's alive," Clark confirmed. "Her technique, whatever it was, worked. I saw him yesterday, alive and well." "Oh, come on, Superman, you expect me to believe that?" Henderson demanded. "Look, I'm not trying to say you've made it up, but it must have been someone who looked like him. Or maybe...." He paused suddenly, then added, as if inspiration had struck, "Maybe she just took some DNA and cloned him - like those cloned gangsters? Mind you, a cloned Luthor could be just as much trouble...." "No, it's the real Luthor, I assure you," Clark insisted. "They both boasted about it to me. She brought him back to life." Still sceptical, Henderson then asked, "Well, if you saw him - hell, you know he was a wanted man, Superman! Why didn't you bring him in?" Clark sighed heavily. "That's the other part of the story," he began to explain. "Luthor has powers like mine." "You've got to be kidding, Superman!" Henderson exclaimed, appalled. "I wish I was," Clark said with a grimace. "You mentioned Resplendent Man. He was just an ordinary guy who, as a result of a freak accident, got my powers transferred to him. Gretchen Kelly somehow found out how it had happened, and she set a trap for me yesterday. I walked right into it, and Luthor got my powers as a result." Raking his hand through his hair, Inspector Henderson stared at the Super-hero. "But how? How can your powers be transferred?" "I'd rather not tell you that," Clark answered. "That's something I think the fewer people know about the better. The main thing is that Lex Luthor is out there somewhere with powers like mine, and I haven't been able to find him yet." "My God, yeah," Henderson muttered slowly, completely shaken out of his customary laconic manner. "Luthor, with Super-powers... it doesn't bear thinking about." "Unfortunately, we have to," Clark reminded him. "He's already killed Dr Kelly, and my guess is that there are other people who could be in danger." Henderson was nodding already. "I'll organise police protection... but what the heck can we do against powers like yours?" Clark frowned. "Not a lot, and you don't want to put officers' lives at risk. I promise you that, barring disasters, I will be spending every minute of my time trying to find him and capture him. I have been since last night. The problem is, I don't know where he is. I only know where he's been." He explained briefly about the bank robbery and the other couple of minor incidents which he was sure were Luthor's doing. "Well, I can have people reporting any strange incidents to my office," Henderson suggested. "Anything where the MO isn't clear, or there's no obvious sign of entry or exit, or...." "Or where it looks like Super-powers could have been used," Clark finished bleakly. "Inspector, I have to ask you not to tell anyone about Luthor, or his powers. If it became common knowledge that my powers could be transferred...." "I can imagine," Henderson grunted. "Okay. We keep that to ourselves - for now. But I'm going to need a way to contact you." Clark shrugged. "Give me a pager only you know the number to." "Drop by my precinct any time in the next half hour - I'll have one waiting." They returned to the other room; Henderson waved the other occupants aside and removed the sheet from the body again. After a brief scan, Clark gestured at him to replace it, moving away from the bed at the same time. "She has three broken ribs and there is evidence of severe bruising on her right arm," he told the detective, speaking quietly so that only Henderson could hear. "There is further bruising on her thighs and... a little higher up," he added. "I'm not really sure whether that indicates force or just Luthor not knowing his own strength yet." He paused then, unable to banish the images from his mind. "Actually, I'm not convinced he'd care if it was the latter, which makes it just as bad as using force in my mind." Henderson nodded, then called to the other officers. "You can take her away now, we're finished here." To Superman, he added, "I take it you're going out to look for him again now?" Clark nodded again. "I'll be in touch." ***************** Clark found himself spending a lot of time with the detective that day; it seemed that the Super-powered Lex Luthor was wasting no time in taking revenge on those people he considered to have slighted him. As he'd promised, Superman turned up at Henderson's precinct within half an hour of leaving Gretchen Kelly's apartment, having spent the meantime again trying to track down Lex Luthor. The man continued to evade him, however. At the precinct, he managed to get Henderson into a private interview room and asked the detective whether the police had any information on the whereabouts of Nigel St John or Asabi. Henderson emitted a long-suffering sigh. "They went to ground within ten minutes of us marching into the wedding ceremony with our warrants - and they took a lot of evidence we wanted with them. We just haven't been able to locate them since." "Well, with Luthor dead, how hard did you try?" Clark persisted. Henderson glared at him. "Damn hard. St John's wanted for a number of offences, and Asabi, or whatever his real name is, is wanted for questioning. But they both seem to have vanished into thin air." "Out of the country, maybe?" Clark asked. "Possibly," Henderson answered. "We tried to see whether the Cox woman, or Luthor's ex-wife, would give us any clues, but not even an offer to speak to the trial judge would shift Cox. Even with Luthor dead she refused to give us any information. As for Carlin, she still persists in believing that anyone who's out to harm Luthor's memory is her enemy - she wouldn't talk." He sighed. "God knows what she'd do if she found out he was alive." "He divorced her - I can't see him wanting to look her up, or break her out of jail," Clark mused aloud. "Unless he can't find anyone else to help him," Henderson speculated. "Course, he might already have found his former associates, so she wouldn't be any use to him in that case. And since he killed that doctor, that suggests he didn't need her." Clark nodded, accepted the pager, and left. But it was barely twenty minutes later when he received his first page, while dealing with a fire at a restaurant. Henderson's text message was short and to the point: it gave an address and the word 'Now.' Pausing only to ensure that the humans present could handle the blaze, he took off at Super-speed. Arriving at the address Henderson had given, he found yet more police cars, police tape, and the detective - looking ever more morose - inside the building, an office block, on the tenth floor. A rough outline had been drawn on the floor around the unmoving body of a man; dead, Clark realised. With a sudden shock, he realised that he recognised the man. He was the chief executive of a Metropolis construction company which... he racked his brain. Yes, Cook Construction had, about ten months earlier, entered into a multi-million dollar consortium with LexCorp to bid for the contract to build the new waterfront development in the west river area. They'd won the contract, though there had been unconfirmed rumours of dirty tricks; Clark had suspected at the time that the rumours were correct, but he'd never been able to prove it. And a couple of months afterwards, the consortium had fallen apart amid acrimonious rumour and counter-rumour about one side trying to pull a fast one on the other. So this man, Martin Cook, had been a business associate of Lex Luthor's. Still, Clark reasoned, there were probably very few businessmen in Metropolis who hadn't done business with Luthor at some point, so it was a pretty thin connection. And also, he considered, studying the dead man more closely, the cause of death looked... suspicious. He turned to Henderson, waiting to be filled in. The detective's morose expression grew even more glum as he led Superman a little further away from the other officers present. "What do you see, Superman?" "A broken neck," Clark replied in a low voice. "I X-rayed just to be sure, but the way he's lying suggested that anyway." Henderson nodded. "That's what I guessed. Any idea what caused it?" "Nothing definite," Clark answered. "But my guess is a sharp blow to the back of the neck. And from what I could see, I'd guess that was with a hand, not a weapon. Though your forensics lab and the medical examiner will give you a better idea." "Thanks, Superman," the detective said quietly. "One other thing. The guy's staff say he's been in this office on his own since a meeting he had at twelve. He had his secretary bring him in a sandwich and coffee just before one, and she says he was fine then. She worked through her lunchbreakand no-one went in or out of his office. Then he didn't answer his phone, so she came in and found him like this." Clark instinctively glanced across at the large window behind the desk. It was open - not fully, but enough for someone moving carefully to slip through, or it could have been closed over again afterwards. He scanned the area from the window to the dead man's body with his telescopic vision, looking for clues; something clinging to the window-frame caught his eye. Beckoning the inspector over, he gestured to a couple of black threads clinging to the edge of the window-frame. "See, here?" "Yeah. What do you make of it?" "The fabric looks like silk," Clark commented. "And it tells me that someone came in, or out - or both - via this window." "Yeah, looks like it," Henderson confirmed. He called to a uniformed officer standing near the door and instructed him to remove the threads for analysis. Once the officer had disappeared with the evidence, the inspector addressed Clark again. "What was Luthor wearing?" "Yesterday? A shabby jacket and corduroys. But I have reason to believe he's changed clothes since," Clark added, filling Henderson in on the clothing store robbery. "So the stuff he took was all black? That figures." "Yeah, but none of it was silk," Clark replied, frowning. Henderson shrugged. "Guess that's all we have to go on for now. But you definitely think the injuries, and the entrance and exit, are consistent with Super-powers?" Clark nodded emphatically. "And given you and I both know this guy did business with Luthor...." "Yeah. Settling old scores?" "I'd guess so," Clark agreed. "Look, Henderson," he added quickly. "I'm kind of concerned about some friends of mine - Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet, for one. He helped put the evidence together which would have put Luthor away." Henderson nodded. "Makes sense. I'll work on a list of people Luthor might want to get revenged on and see what we can do. What about Lane and Kent? Kent was heavily involved in incriminating Luthor, and Lane... hell, she was going to marry him!" Clark flinched inwardly at the reminder, but remained outwardly calm. "Clark Kent's fine. And as soon as this happened I got Lois Lane out of town - you're right, I saw her as potentially being in danger from Luthor." That was only the second murder of the day; by late afternoon there had been three more, and each time Clark's sense of anger and frustration grew. It seemed that he was spending his entire day getting there just too late; that Luthor was evading him by minutes. He was frequently torn between staying behind to help the police in their search for clues and flying off at Super-speed in search of Luthor; the latter option, however, really didn't offer much hope, since he still had no idea where the man was hiding. And if he had any notion in his mind of preventing Luthor getting to his next victim, he dismissed that possibility as quickly as it occurred. The list Clark and Henderson had compiled ran almost into triple figures. Not by any means for the first time, Clark was cursing himself for having been too slow to stop Luthor gaining his powers. If he had just realised what those Tesla coils were; if he had moved out of the way sooner; if he hadn't almost frozen in shock and disbelief when he'd recognised Luthor and had instead just scooped the guy up and flown him to the nearest police precinct, then none of this would have happened. Lois Lane wouldn't be in danger. And five people who were now dead would still have been alive. He had been so *stupid*! And now, he couldn't even anticipate Luthor: the guy was running rings around him and Clark was playing catch-up. He had not managed to arrive in time to save a single one of the man's victims. It was a long time since he'd felt this useless. Late that afternoon, emerging from another rooftop office having confirmed a sixth death by some use of Super-powers, Clark was taken aback to find several representatives of t