Hearts Divided
By Pam Jernigan <chiefpam@nc.rr.com>
Rated: PG13
Submitted:  December, 2001
_______________


This is another Elseworlds, no doubt about it... it was 
inspired by a dream, which probably was influenced by one 
of my favorite books.  I just have too much fun playing 
with universes <g>  Our favorite heroes' backstories have 
changed quite a bit from the norm ... but be patient, all 
will be revealed in time.  I've chosen a starting point 
that will seem familiar -- the Metro Club, from the episode 
"I've Got a Crush On You" -- but then I take a hard left 
into new territory.  I've tried to stay fairly close to the 
relevant events ... but if I take a few liberties here and 
there ... well, it is an elseworld ;)

I owe a lot to my beta-readers, Claire Hess, Wendy 
Richards, Irene Dutch, Jo March, Missy Gallant, and Chris 
Mulder.  Erin Klingler went above and beyond GE duty to 
help me clean this up for the archive.  Thanks also to my 
husband, Kelley, who responded to bizarre plot questions 
with very good answers.  Last but not least, a big thank 
you to all the readers who followed along with this on 
Zoomway's message boards; your comments amused, inspired, 
and kept me on the right track.


~~ Hearts Divided ~~


Lois Lane marched into the small family-style restaurant 
and surveyed the room.  The lunch hour had not yet arrived, 
and the place was nearly deserted.  Which made it easier 
for her to spot her target.  The manager took one look at 
her crisp uniform and faded into the kitchen.  She strode 
across the room to confront the rail-thin man eagerly 
devouring a plate-full of food.  "Bobby Bigmouth?"

He glanced up, his fork suspended in midair.  "Who wants to 
know?"

"I am Lieutenant L.J. Lane, US Army Intelligence," she 
announced, wondering which of two predictable come-backs 
this would elicit.  Usually they either snorted at the 
perceived oxymoron, or--

"Lane, huh?" he replied, arching a speculative eyebrow.  
"First initial L?  It's not Lois is it, like in the 
Superman comics?"

He had been quick to pick up on that; good, that meant he 
was somewhat intelligent.  "I'm afraid I don't read 
comics," she replied dampeningly.  "I'm here today to ask 
you what you know about a local fire hazard called the 
Toasters."  

West River had erupted into flames in the past few days; 
several properties had burned down, injuring several 
people, including one off-duty corporal.  The fire chief 
wasn't commenting, but rumor had it that the arson was 
gang-related.  The brass at Fort Truman had no desire for 
the fires to spread to nearby army property, or to affect 
any more personnel.  Or at least, that was the official 
story.  Unofficially, her colonel had hinted to her that 
the origin of the Toaster's technology was troubling; it 
bore some resemblance to military designs currently in 
production at LexCorp.  If this technology had been leaked, 
they wanted to know how and by whom.  Hence, a military 
investigation, but very low-key.  Lois had no real 
jurisdiction, but she had no intention of letting the 
informant know that.

Bobby's face took on a cunning expression as he dipped his 
fork again for another bite and proceeded to talk around 
it.  "I see my reputation precedes me -- so you gotta know, 
I don't give this stuff away for free."  He looked around, 
rapid calculation in his eyes.  "I mean, this place is 
okay, but what I could really go for is--"

Lois was in no mood to make concessions.  Leaning forward, 
she grabbed his plate and spun it towards the other end of 
the table.  Grabbing his lapels next, she pulled him 
forward.  "I want to know what you know.  And if you don't 
tell me, let's just say you'll spend the next month eating 
through a straw."  She projected as much menace as she 
could muster, feigning an anger she didn't feel.  She 
needed this information, and all indications were that this 
lowlife had the answers; threats seemed the most direct 
method of obtaining them.

His eyes widened as he stared at her.  For a long moment he 
hesitated, and she wondered if he was thinking of calling 
her bluff.  Then he sagged, and raised his hands in a 
universal gesture of surrender.  "Okay, already, I give."  
Abruptly, she released him, letting him fall back into his 
seat.

He fussed with his clothing, trying to regain whatever 
dignity he could muster, and she waited patiently.  He 
glanced up, a spark of resentment in his eyes, and 
commented, "You know, I love my country, but that was a bit 
much."

"Yeah, well, I'd feel guilty about it if I thought you ever 
paid your taxes."

Bobby put on a deeply wounded look and opened his mouth, 
but Lois spoke first.  "Never mind, never mind.  That was 
insensitive of me."  She smiled briefly and insincerely.  
"Now, what do you know about the fires?"

****

"We're entering the target solar system, m'Lord Ching," Sev 
reported.  "We should make planet-fall in approximately 
twelve more hours."

"Very good," Lieutenant Ching replied, tired of correcting 
Sev's inaccurate use of the honorific.  New Krypton was 
such a class-conscious society, especially in the lower 
orders, that some of the enlisted men tended to call all of 
their commanding officers Lords.  As soon as a real Lord 
took command of the ship, they could transfer their blind 
worship to him.  Ching would not miss it; being mistaken 
for higher rank only served to remind him of what he could 
not have.

Zak, the young tactical officer, looked up from his 
console.  "What's Earth like, sir?"

"I've only been there once, Zak," Ching replied, not 
unkindly.  "Haven't you read the reports?"

Zak blushed.  "Um, I've been -- well, no, sir, I haven't."

"Well, there's a little time left," Ching allowed.  "Look, 
this is a peaceful system -- you're relieved of bridge 
duty; go back to your quarters and study up before we get 
there."  He supposed the boy had been busy with the 
universal pastime of young men everywhere ... day dreaming 
about women.  Ching could hardly blame him; it had been a 
long time since they'd left home, and although their 
previous mission was nearly over, new orders had just 
arrived, to make this pick-up and deliver a sealed message.  
There was no telling when they would return to New Krypton.

"I've read the reports," Sev mentioned, glancing slyly at 
his crewmate.  "It's a nice, ripe little world, Earth is.  
All sorts of amenities.  They're kryptonoid there, so we'll 
blend right in with the natives."

"Sev!" Ching spoke sharply, wanting to nip this thought 
pattern in the bud.  "This will not be shore leave.  We are 
going to make one short stop, to retrieve our local agent.  
At that point, he will be in command, and since he's been 
marooned there for three years, I expect he'll be in a 
hurry to leave."  Depending on the contents of the message, 
of course, but the packet had been marked urgent, so haste 
was likely whether their destination turned out to be New 
Krypton or elsewhere.  "Besides, the people of this planet 
have no idea there are other occupied worlds in the 
universe; until the Lords of New Krypton decide to reveal 
themselves, we *will* keep our existence a secret.  Is that 
understood?"  Ching fixed Sev with a severe glare until the 
helmsman's smile wilted.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, then reluctantly added, "M'Lord."

"Good.  I will take the helm for the next duty cycle.  You 
are both relieved until the next cycle."  The two younger 
Kryptonians saluted smartly and filed off the bridge, 
leaving Ching to the solitude of the stars.  He leaned back 
in the captain's chair, taking a deep breath.  He had known 
this part of the mission would be unpleasant, but duty was 
duty.  He would need the next few hours to gather his 
composure; he would need all his control to once again face 
the man who would one day marry the woman Ching loved.

****

First Lieutenant L.J. Lane entered the bar with an 
appearance of bravado she did not entirely feel.  She 
touched the neckline of her skimpy dress, feeling naked not 
only at the change from her usual uniform, but also because 
she had left her pistol behind.  She hated feeling 
vulnerable, but she would be outnumbered and outgunned 
regardless, so subterfuge was her best chance.  She forced 
herself to relax.  Bobby's information had pointed her to 
the Metro Club, but a change of tactics had seemed 
appropriate.  She knew she looked good in the outfit; if 
she could sing and dance to the manager's satisfaction as 
well, she would be in. 

She looked around the dimly lit bar and spotted a lone 
bartender polishing glasses.  Attempting a sultry walk, she 
approached him.  "Hey, there."

He looked up, briefly glancing at her face before his gaze 
drifted lower.  "What can I help you with?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then immediately 
regretted it as the movement only called attention to her 
cleavage.  'Work with it, Lane,' she ordered herself.  She 
smiled.  "I was wondering if the club had any openings for 
a singer?"

The bartender looked up again.  "Maybe.  Talk to Johnny 
over there."

"Thanks.  See you around."

Slowly, deliberately, she swung around on one heel and 
walked towards the man the bartender had indicated, who was 
sitting near the side of the stage.  "Hello," she called 
out as she spotted the manager.  "My name is Lola, Lola 
Dane, and I'm here to be your new singer."

He lifted his head to meet her gaze, then let his eyes 
wander freely.  Lois waited, feigning boredom.  Johnny 
Taylor -- owner of the Metro Club, and quite likely, the 
head of the Metro Gang -- smiled.  "We've already got a 
singer, hot cakes, but we could use legs like yours in the 
chorus."

Lois shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.  She was in.

****

Kal Lewis slouched back in his chair, contemplating his 
sterile apartment.  It was small, and its West River 
location couldn't be called good, but it had served his 
purposes for the past three years.  He vaguely regretted, 
now, that he'd never fixed it up -- with the powers this 
world's yellow sun had bestowed upon him, it would not have 
been difficult -- but in the end it made no difference. 

He had thought he would want to spend tonight at a party, 
making the most of his last night on Earth.  Now that the 
moment was upon him, he was suffused with melancholy 
instead.  Only a football game on television kept him 
company.  It wasn't as if he had any true friends, he 
admitted, not here.  There were various friendly 
acquaintances, of both genders, but he'd never allowed 
himself to be close to any of them.  None of them knew of 
his alien origin.  So none of them would understand that he 
was going back home.

He had no strong desire to return to New Krypton, but there 
was no reason to stay.  He'd served his three-year tour, 
living unobtrusively among the humans, learning their 
cultures, and now it was time to report back.  After the 
isolation of old Krypton, the new colony had a much more 
proactive approach to interstellar relations -- they wanted 
to know their neighbors, whether openly or through stealthy 
observation.  The physical similarities between Kryptonians 
and humans had made this one of the easier posts available 
-- some observers were stuck on a small satellite for years 
at a time, watching a pre-spaceflight world.  Kal had been 
able to blend in.  That similarity was the reason he'd 
given in requesting this assignment.  He didn't think the 
Council would understand the way he'd felt drawn to it from 
his first glimpse.

Adjusting to Earth's culture had been a shock at first, but 
once he'd gotten used to it, he'd decided that he liked 
this world.  It was chaotic and over-emotional, true, but 
the abundant natural resources had granted humans luxuries 
that New Kryptonians professed not to want.  And in the 
constant din and clatter of Metropolis, the restlessness 
that had gnawed at Kal ever since he could remember had 
been easier to bear ... though it had not vanished.  
Perhaps it was just as well that he would be going home.  
It was time to grow up and stop longing for something he 
didn't have, and couldn't even name.  He had 
responsibilities to his world, and it was time to stop 
running away from them.

The transport ship would arrive tonight or tomorrow 
morning, and his officers would contact him telepathically.  
He'd already made all the preparations necessary for their 
landing.  The journey home would be short and uneventful, 
and Zara would be waiting for him.  Their wedding would 
probably follow in short order, assuming she hadn't found a 
better candidate in his absence.  He held out little hope 
of that; the selection of eligible nobles was, like 
everything else on New Krypton, limited.

His musings were interrupted by a special bulletin 
interrupting the game.  He frowned as the reporter told of 
yet another fire, this time only a block away, at the West 
River Garment Company.  A worker was trapped in the burning 
building, and the local fire fighters lacked the equipment 
to safely retrieve him.

Kal usually let humans deal with their own problems -- the 
Council had been very strict about him not revealing his 
presence in any way -- but this was happening right in his 
own neighborhood.  He couldn't ignore this.  There had to 
be something he could do.

Moving quickly through back streets, he arrived at the 
scene of the fire in less than a minute.  Using his 
enhanced vision, he scanned the area.  It had been quite 
startling to him when these abilities had begun manifesting 
themselves shortly after his arrival on Earth.  Nothing in 
his mission briefing had prepared him for this, but his 
military training had given him the tools necessary to 
painstakingly discover the various fantastic things he 
could now do.  Many hours of surreptitious practice had let 
him master his new skills.  And he might need a few of them 
today, he realized.  The trapped man was on the uppermost 
floor, and the nearest stairwell was blocked by both flames 
and debris.  Kal could probably lead him safely to the 
roof, but he wasn't sure that would help anything -- the 
fire department still didn't have long enough ladders, and 
the building was beginning to collapse internally as walls 
and floors burned.  The worker was going to have to jump -- 
with a little invisible help.

Kal slipped around the corner, past an unmanned barricade, 
searching for an unobserved entrance.  He found an 
emergency exit door propped open, and with a last cautious 
glance around he slipped into the building.

The air was thick with smoke, and Kal could feel the heat.  
He worried, for a moment, that his clothing would catch 
fire, but his T-shirt and jeans both fit rather snugly, so 
they might be protected.  Using all his senses to navigate, 
he plunged into the gloom, locating a back stairwell that 
seemed clear, apart from smoke -- too bad he wouldn't be 
able to bring the worker back this way, but the fumes would 
probably kill him.  As he reached the top floor, he 
wondered why the local firemen hadn't tried this route -- 
until he opened the stairwell door.

A wall of flames roared towards him, bringing heat, light, 
and crashing noise.  He ducked, for a moment overcome by 
the memory of a childhood accident, feeling once more the 
sting and the throb of that long-ago burn.  He shook 
himself out of it.  In this time and place, he was 
invulnerable, and someone needed him.  Determined, he moved 
forward again, unharmed.  This level was burning merrily, 
producing a deafening cacophony of roars and hisses.  As he 
crossed the first room, a half-heard groaning sounded, and 
before he could pinpoint the source, the floor beneath him 
collapsed.  He fell halfway to the next level before his 
addled brain remembered that he could fly.  Careful to 
avoid dislodging any more of the structure, he floated up 
again on his own power.  

Half walking, half flying, he passed through the worst of 
the blaze to reach the relatively cool front of the 
building. The worker was sitting slumped by an open window, 
his breathing noisy -- he had passed out from smoke 
inhalation, most likely.  Kal felt almost guilty with 
relief; this rescue would be easier if he didn't need worry 
about being seen or recognized.  There was no time to 
waste.  

After a quick scan to verify that there were no broken 
bones, Kal scooped the man up and headed for the nearby 
stairs -- the stairwell was acting as a chimney to draw 
smoke upwards, but Kal moved so quickly his passenger had 
no time for more than a breath or two before they emerged 
onto the roof with its relatively clear air.  A quick 
glance verified his bearings, and Kal carried his burden to 
the edge of the roof and walked along it until he was above 
the deserted alley he'd found earlier.  Gripping his 
passenger securely, Kal stepped off the building.  They 
descended as rapidly as he dared, slowing only at the last 
moment.  The worker began to cough as Kal laid him down 
across from the partly-open door.  Then he walked, at fast 
but human speed, around to the front of the building.  
"Help!  Some guy just staggered out of the building and 
collapsed!"

Several firefighters followed him and began attending to 
the worker, who was coughing more by now.  Kal faded into 
the crowd, hiding a satisfied smirk.  It had felt 
surprisingly good to be able to help -- he ought to do it 
more often.  

His elation faded as he remembered that he wouldn't have 
the chance.

****

"When you're not on stage, you'll be serving drinks," Tanya 
informed Lois.  "If you hold your tray like this," she 
demonstrated, bracing one edge against her black-clad hip, 
"you'll always have a free hand for defense."  At Lois's 
inquiring look, she grimaced.  "Eyes aren't the only thing 
that wander around here."  Tanya illustrated her 'defense' 
move with an alarming amount of enthusiasm.

Lois faked a smile.  Lovely.  Not only was she wearing a 
skimpy black body-suit, accessorized with a choker-like 
bow-tie, but she would be fending off groping hands all 
night.  Well, at least she would blend in.  Across the 
room, she noticed several men heading through an interior 
door.

Tanya followed her gaze and exclaimed, "Oh, my -- I'd 
better get in there with something to wet their whistles, 
or I'll be back at the truck stop, slinging hash!"

Lois made a grab for the tray.  "Oh, let me.  I could use 
the practice."

Tanya smiled tightly, refusing to let go.  "They tip big."

It was on the tip of Lois's tongue to offer a twenty for 
the opportunity, but reluctantly, she released the tray 
instead, letting Tanya go about her business.  Lois wanted 
in on that meeting, but not badly enough to risk raising 
suspicions.  Still, there was more than one way to skin a 
cat.  

A little skulking around in the back-stage warrens led her 
to a storage closet.  Shelves full of spare dishes lined 
the wall that she hoped backed onto the meeting room.  Lois 
got her ear as close to the wall as she could, and 
concentrated on listening.

The voices were indistinct at first, but then became louder 
as they were raised in anger.  Johnny Taylor claimed that 
he would take care of the fires.  Lois's eyebrows shot up 
at this -- maybe the Metro Gang wasn't behind this wave of 
arson, after all.  A woman's voice cut in at that point, 
demanding to know *how* Johnny planned to take care of the 
fires.  He angrily told her not to talk in meetings, and 
Lois wondered who this woman was, and why she was there in 
the first place.  "Pop would be the first one to tell you 
to get married and have babies," Johnny sneered, answering 
that question -- this must be his sister Toni.  Lois felt a 
moment of sisterly solidarity with her.  It wasn't easy for 
a woman to make a mark on a man's world; and she supposed 
that organized crime was about as male a world as any, even 
more so than the military.

A sudden commotion in the next room caught her attention, 
and then a bullet whizzed over her head.  Startled, she 
dropped flat on the floor as two more shots exploded.  
Through faintly ringing ears, she heard Toni sneer, "Just 
what we need.  A cool head in charge."

That seemed to bring the meeting to an abrupt end.  After a 
few moments, Lois cautiously picked herself up and 
inspected the wall.  The bullet holes were perfectly placed 
for a view into the adjoining room.  Looking around the 
room, she found some large metal bowls, which she stacked 
neatly in front of the newly created peepholes.  No sense 
advertising their presence.  

She wasn't entirely happy with her progress -- so far, all 
she'd gathered was negative data:  The Metros were *not* 
coordinating the fires.  But considering their status in 
West River, and the protection racket they ran, they would 
undoubtedly be putting a lot of effort into discovering the 
arsonist.  And there was also the possibility that someone 
was using these fires as a form of pressure against Johnny, 
for whatever reason -- the culprit could even be one of 
Johnny's staff, anxious for a promotion.  So this was still 
a good place to be. 

Well, if she wanted to remain here, she'd better get back 
to work.  She checked for dirt smears from her dive to the 
floor and wiped off a few patches of dust.  Satisfied that 
she was presentable, she quietly slipped out of the storage 
room.

****

Kal let himself back into his apartment and realized that 
he reeked of smoke.  He stripped on his way to the bathroom 
and took a long hot shower, pondering his options for the 
evening.  The football game was nearly over, and while he 
might be able to find another one, he was too restless to 
stay in tonight.  He'd already packed the few things that 
he would be taking with him; all that was left was the 
waiting.  He supposed he'd better get himself a good dinner 
somewhere, and then find some entertainment.  He felt more 
at loose ends than usual, and it reminded him of how lost 
he'd felt when he'd first arrived.  

He had chosen this apartment more or less at random, taking 
advantage of the area's lower rents.  The Council had 
supplied him with a handful of Kryptonian crystals which 
closely resembled Earth gems; once he had figured out how 
best to exchange them for cash he'd not needed to save 
money on rent anymore.  By then, however, he had discovered 
that the neighborhood suited him.  People had learned not 
to ask too many questions here -- they minded their own 
business and expected him to mind his.  He'd kept his head 
down, made some useful acquaintances and settled down to 
the serious business of attempting to understand an entire 
culture in three short years.  Kal smiled, thinking of some 
of the more pleasant lessons he'd learned.  Very well then, 
he could end his tenure where he'd begun it -- at the Metro 
Club.

**** 

"A chicken outfit.  I can't believe it."  Lois stared at 
the getup in dismay, but business was business and orders 
were orders, so, grumbling, she began changing.  The 
evening had finally arrived, and at least the bright yellow 
body suit, amply supplied with feathers, was a change from 
the waitress get-up.  

"Honey, it could be worse," one of the other chorus girls 
replied in good humor.  "At least it's a job in show 
business.  Hi, I'm Brenda."

Lois smiled, offering the black woman a handshake.  "Hi 
Brenda, I'm Lola.  And don't get me wrong, I'm happy to 
have the job ... but it's a pretty far cry from a hit 
musical."

Brenda snorted.  "You ain't kidding.  But it's a step, see.  
You get experience here, it can lead you to other things--"

"Don't believe it," an older, blonde woman interrupted 
while skillfully applying make-up to conceal the lines of 
age and disappointment on her face.  "Brenda's been saying 
that for months, but she's still here."

The younger woman frowned.  "Hey, Francine, at least I have 
a plan.  And it doesn't involve sleeping my way to the 
top."

Francine snorted.  "That must be why you're still on the 
bottom."

Brenda rolled her eyes and turned back towards Lois. "Like 
she's got a career we should envy.  Never mind.  My main 
point is, it's not so bad working here.  And it could lead 
to better things -- you never know."  On that 
incontrovertible point, she cast a smug look at Francine 
and walked out of the shared dressing room, her head held 
high.

Lois watched her go, then turned her attention to the other 
dancer.  "So, um ... hello, Francine."

"Hello, Lola," Francine replied, still concentrating on her 
make-up.  "Welcome to show business.  Did you audition?"

"Actually, Johnny just said he liked my legs," Lois 
admitted, somewhat uncomfortably.  "Does he always do 
that?"

"You mean hire dancers without knowing whether they can 
dance?"  Francine sighed.  "Yeah, that's Johnny all over.  
It'd ruin him, but he does have a good eye.  So, do you 
dance?"

"I've done some dancing, yeah."  Okay, so it was mainly in 
her high school musical and in base skits, but she knew she 
was in good shape; she was dedicated to keeping up her 
martial arts training.  "I was kind of hoping to get a gig 
singing, though," she admitted.  "I'm better at that."

"Well, we'll whip you into shape this afternoon -- in 
between making us wait tables they do give us a little time 
to rehearse.  Assuming Melanie ever gets here, that is."

"Melanie?"

"Our fourth dancer," Francine explained, putting the 
finishing touches on her costume.  "She just started two 
weeks ago, and she's always late.  If Johnny weren't trying 
to get in her pants, she'd have been fired a week ago.  
He'll fire her pretty soon anyway, whether he sleeps with 
her or not."

"But that's sexual harassment," Lois protested.

Francine snorted.  "Nope, that's life.  At least in this 
part of town."  She stood and moved towards the door.  "If 
you'll excuse me, I've got to check something."  Without 
waiting for a reply, she left.

Alone, Lois blinked at the unexpected undercurrents.  Not 
that any of this back-stage wrangling was likely to be 
connected to the fires.  Making her way in the Army had 
been difficult, but nothing like this.  Never mind, she 
told herself.  This wasn't getting her anywhere.  She 
firmly directed her attention back to figuring out the 
chicken costume.  This case was important to the base 
commander, and if she was able to crack the case for the 
local police, it would certainly help her career.  There 
were a number of things she would refuse to do for her job, 
but singing and dancing in a chicken costume, while 
undignified, was not one of them.

****

Kal entered the Metro Club with a faint smile.  He'd spent 
quite a few evenings in this plushly-decorated club, and 
realized that he would miss the company here.  He spotted 
Toni Taylor across the room, and saw her notice him.  With 
a wide smile, she crossed the room to greet him.

"Toni, how are you?"  They exchanged cheek kisses.

"I've had better days, Kal," she admitted with a wry smile.  
"Do you want your usual table?"

"If it's available, thanks."  

Smiling, she led him across the lightly crowded room.  
Their relationship had briefly been intimate three years 
ago, but the illusion of closeness had only served to 
emphasize Kal's loneliness.  He'd admired Toni for her 
drive and directness, and it had been a novelty to begin a 
relationship with a social equal, but she hadn't touched 
his soul.  With considerable trepidation, then, he'd broken 
things off.  On New Krypton, rejection often had a 
devastating effect on a concubine.  Earth women, though, 
seemed made of stronger stuff.  After some awkwardness, his 
relationship with Toni had settled into a warm, if 
superficial, friendship.

He seated himself and gestured for Toni to join him, which 
she did with a smile.  "Bad day, you said?  Let me guess, 
you argued with Johnny again," Kal commented casually.  He 
was fairly certain that Johnny Taylor was the head of the 
Metros, and that Toni was also connected with the gang, but 
he had never brought it up; he didn't think it was any of 
his business.  As gangs went, the Metros were fairly tame, 
running numbers and a protection racket, so it wasn't 
difficult to obey the Council's prohibition on 
interference.  

Toni's smile tightened.  "He's just so stuck in his ways.  
But I'll get what I want in the end."  The determined glint 
in her eyes left him in no doubt of that.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, tempted to confide in her, 
at least partly.  "Um, Toni ... don't spread it around, but 
this is my last night here -- I'm going home."

She just looked at him for a long moment, and Kal thought 
he saw a flash of pain in her eyes.  Then she forced a 
smile and reached out to touch his hand.  "I'll miss you, 
Kal.  I won't ask where home is, either -- you haven't told 
me in three years, so why should you tell me now.  You, ah, 
need a lift to the airport?"

Kal smiled at her, remembering how helpful she'd been to 
him back when he'd been so confused about local 
transportation.  "No, thanks.  I've got some friends giving 
me a ride.  They'll be here later tonight."  

"Well, bring them in when they get here, Kal -- any friends 
of yours are welcome here," Toni assured him.  

"Ah, thank you, Toni," he replied, mentally discounting the 
idea.  The ship would put down in the early morning 
dimness, he would board, and they would leave; there would 
be no time for such frivolities.  Besides, if his fellow 
Kryptonians spent any amount of time on Earth, they would 
also develop powers; Kal would have to reveal something of 
that sort to the Council, but he did not want it to become 
common knowledge, for Earth's protection.

Toni eyed him shrewdly.  "I'll leave it up to you, Kal, but 
they're welcome if you want to bring them.  I'll even let 
them slide on the dress code," she teased, "if they behave 
themselves."

"No need to worry," he promised ambiguously.  "Thanks, 
Toni."

"Not a problem."  With visible reluctance, she stood.  
"Sorry, Kal, but I'm working; I've got to keep moving."

He nodded, well used to her dedication.  "I'll see you 
around, okay?"

"Sure -- and you'd better see me again before you leave -- 
no sneaking out on me, you hear?"  She caressed his arm 
lightly as she left.

"Yes, ma'am." Kal smiled as she left, then let his gaze 
drift to the rest of the club.  It was still early, and the 
room was only half full.  Other acquaintances would 
probably come in a bit later, but he wouldn't miss them if 
they didn't.  He had no unfinished business, and no future 
here.  He'd end his term as he began, an outsider and 
observer.

The stage lights dimmed, signaling an imminent live 
performance, tempting Kal out of his melancholy.  Perhaps 
he should try to appreciate the show -- it was valuable if 
only because of its rarity; there was nothing like *this* 
on New Krypton.  Women there were either cherished 
daughters, dignified wives, or private concubines ... they 
certainly didn't dance around publicly in skimpy costumes.  

That was one of the things that Kal intended to try to 
change when he returned home.  New Krypton couldn't afford 
to throw resources away on entertainment, of course, but it 
had occurred to him that they were probably squandering one 
of the resources they *did* have.  Zara, for instance, 
possessed great managerial talents, which were mostly 
wasted.  There had to be a way to remedy that situation.

The band's flourish announced the new performance, and Kal 
looked up, determined to enjoy himself.  He usually enjoyed 
Tanya's singing, and although the dance lineup changed 
frequently, Johnny did have a good eye for talent.

Tanya pranced out on stage first, dressed in a red-and-
white checked low-cut blouse, with short blue shorts; from 
his reading, Kal recognized it as a parody of a farmer's 
wardrobe.  The song was new to him, something about the 
tension between economic/agricultural necessity and self-
indulgent pleasure seeking.  It hardly seemed like a 
dilemma to him; nobles did their duty and commoners 
followed orders.  But Tanya shimmied appealingly, so he set 
aside his internal critique and resolved to be more 
shallow.

As if to reward him, the dancers came out to join Tanya on 
stage.  The costumes were new, he noted, and so was one of 
the dancers.

She was slim and dark, with legs that went from here to 
there.  Her dance moves were somewhat awkward, and out of 
step with the others, but she was obviously putting all her 
concentration into the effort, and the end result was 
strangely charming.  She had an appealing face, as well ... 
he couldn't quite pinpoint the attraction, but there was 
something....

A commotion in the back of the room startled him, and he, 
along with most of the patrons, turned to see four men in 
silvery costumes.  One of them stepped forward, yelling 
dramatically, "Johnny!  You're dead!"

Kal assessed the situation in a blink; Johnny Taylor was 
seated near the entrance with several of his cronies, 
gaping in shock at the intruders.  The silver-clad men 
pulled out some sort of weapons, aiming them at the hapless 
club owner.  Moving before he thought to restrain himself, 
Kal launched himself across the room, dragging Johnny down 
to the floor behind a nearby table.  A jet of fire streamed 
overhead, dissipating almost instantly, leaving only a 
fleeting impression of intense heat.  Around him, Johnny's 
pals were setting the tables on end, using them as cover.  
Pulling out no-doubt-illegal hand guns, they sprayed the 
fire-bugs with a different, equally deadly form of fire.  
The intruders quickly turned and fled.

Johnny stirred beneath him, and Kal quickly moved aside, 
beginning to regret his actions.  None of this was his 
concern ... even if he was fond of the man's sister.  If 
their positions had been reversed, Johnny would certainly 
not have thought to worry about him.  He scooted into a 
sitting position, surveying the room.  For the first time, 
he was grateful for his imminent departure; this slip would 
come to nothing.

Johnny looked up.  "Kal?  Thanks, man!  Lemme tell ya, 
anything you want, it's yours..."  He was practically 
shaking with relief at the close call, and Kal hid a 
derisive smile.  He'd seen Johnny promise people the world 
before; his generosity generally faded within a few hours. 

"Just consider it payback for all the free drinks I've 
gotten over the years," he replied dryly.  

Johnny's brow clouded a little at that, but Kal was 
distracted by the sudden realization that the room was on 
fire.  He stood in one fluid motion, roughly pulling Johnny 
to his feet as well.  "Get out of here," he ordered, giving 
the man a helpful push towards the main entrance.  

Across the room, he saw Toni also ushering her guests out 
as quickly as possible without a panic.  There were really 
only a few small fires, and one smoldering wall.  If all 
these people would leave, he could take care of this 
himself, he realized.  He debated the prospect for a 
moment.  The Council was already going to have his head for 
interfering and endangering his cover as much as he had.  
So what was one more infraction?  He grinned.  After all, 
he owed these people a debt, and he was leaving.  They'd 
accepted him with no questions asked, and taught him quite 
a lot that he hadn't found in reference books.  Very well 
then.

Toni was just shooing the last of the patrons out and 
starting across the room for him.  "Get out of here, Toni!" 
he called across the floor.  "I'm fine -- you go call 911."  
With one long last look, she turned and scurried out.  

Kal turned back toward the stage, breathing in and thinking 
cold thoughts.  Then he saw her.

Her hat had gone missing, but the bright yellow feathers 
attached to the form-fitting bodysuit made it impossible 
not to recognize her; she was one of the dancers.  And from 
somewhere, she'd found a fire extinguisher and was coolly 
putting out a fire that had started licking at the base of 
the drapes near the stage.  In a few strides, he crossed 
the room to her.  Grabbing her shoulder, he pulled her 
around to face him.  "Are you crazy?"

She looked up at him defiantly, a dark soot smear across 
one cheek.  "This whole neighborhood is going up in smoke -
- you think the fire department is gonna get here in time?  
We've got to stop this, now."

Kal stared at her, suddenly unable to speak as something 
deep inside him came alive.  When he'd first seen her, he'd 
thought her moderately attractive ... but now, even in her 
disheveled state, he knew her to be the most beautiful 
woman on two planets.  He gradually became aware that she 
was scowling at him.

"Don't just stand there!  Grab a fire extinguisher, or get 
out."  She turned back to the drapes and gave them one last 
smothering blast of gas.

The noise broke his strange trance and he regained control 
of himself.  "You get out," he insisted, grabbing her and 
pushing her towards the door.  "I'll handle it."

She resisted, which shouldn't have surprised him, but did.  
"Don't give me that macho crap; I can do this."

Kal thought frantically.  "Not in this get-up you can't," 
he finally offered, reaching out to flick at the wildly 
bobbing feathers.  "These things could catch fire pretty 
easily, and then you'd be in trouble."  She frowned at him, 
which he took as a good sign.  "One spark and you're a 
roast chicken."

Her eyes narrowed.  "Listen, you--"

He held up his hands, hoping to pacify her.  "Look, I'm 
sure you're capable, but you can't risk yourself.  Give me 
the fire extinguisher.  I can handle this, but not if I'm 
arguing with you!"  They were nearly nose to nose, 
exchanging heated glares, but then she glanced around the 
room and sighed.  

"Okay, fine. You win.  Whoever you are.  Here."  She thrust 
the metal canister at him, then turned and darted towards 
the front entrance.  

Kal kept a wary eye on her, and this time, he was not 
surprised when she turned.  Her eyes widened as she stared 
at a back wall, and he followed her gaze.  On the wall, in 
large letters, was the word, "Toasters."

When he turned back towards the entrance, she was gone.  
Quickly, he scanned the whole building with his special 
vision and was relieved to see that no one was left inside.  
He inhaled and then gently blew super-cold air across the 
room.  It wasn't quite as effective as the chemical mixture 
the dancer had been using, but it served the purpose, and 
one by one the fires went dead.

He surveyed the room in mingled dismay and satisfaction.  
The building wouldn't burn, but the room was a horrendous 
mess.  No more shows tonight, and the thought of not seeing 
the dancer again brought a distinct pang of disappointment.

**My Lord Kal-El.**

Automatically, Kal stiffened to rigid attention, closing 
his eyes and lifting his face slightly, devoting all his 
concentration to the telepathic link.  **I am here.**  Lack 
of practice made the communication something of a strain.

**Your ship awaits.  I am Lieutenant Ching.  I am here to 
retrieve you, and to deliver a message.**

**Very good.  I have prepared a landing zone with homing 
beacon.**  Earlier in the day, he'd placed the beacon in 
the empty parking lot of a warehouse.  He didn't own the 
structure, but he knew it would be undisturbed for the time 
being.  **Wait six hours before landing.  Air traffic will 
be at its lightest.**

There was a tinge of doubt in Ching's reply.  **Earth 
detection systems are primitive.**

**They probably won't detect you,** Kal agreed, **but they 
might run into you.  Wait six hours.**

**It will be as my Lord commands.**

**Very well.  I await your coming.**

Kal terminated the connection.

**** 

Lois longed for nothing more than to be home, in a 
comfortable, schlumpy robe, eating chocolate ice cream and 
watching the Ivory Tower.  Instead, she was standing on the 
street wearing a leotard and feathers, waiting to see if 
the Metro Club was going to burn down.  She hoped the guy 
who'd so rudely ordered her outside would hurry up.  She 
couldn't go home until she'd gone back inside to change 
clothes and collect her things.  

"Lola, there you are!"  

Lois turned to see Melanie approaching her, relief written 
clearly on her face.  

"Are you all right?" Melanie asked anxiously, then relaxed 
as Lois nodded.  "I didn't see you come out at first, and I 
couldn't find you, and when I tried to go back in to check, 
Toni *yelled* at me!" she concluded, pouting slightly.

"I should think so!" Lois replied, torn between concern 
that Melanie would so heedlessly risk her life for her, and 
wary that she'd blown her cover.  "I just saw a fire 
extinguisher, and, you know, once a Girl Scout..."  She 
smiled brightly.  "But then this guy wanted to take over."  
No doubt he wanted to be the hero, an attitude which 
normally grated on her last nerve, but tonight, it had 
probably been a good thing.  'Lola Dane' could not afford 
to stand out too much.  She looked around the few clumps of 
employees still keeping vigil outside the club.  "So, um 
... where's Brenda and Francine?"

"Brenda's over there."  Melanie pointed to a small knot of 
people surrounding Tanya, who was having loud hysterics.  
"I don't know about Francine; I can't find her."

"She took a cab home," a new voice said, and Lola looked up 
to see a professional-looking blonde.  "Hi, I'm Toni 
Taylor," she introduced herself briskly.  "You're Melanie 
and ... Lola, right?"

Melanie smiled.  "That's us."

Lois raised an eyebrow.  "She took a cab dressed like 
this?"  A gesture indicated the garish, skimpy costumes 
worn by both dancers.

Toni smiled wryly.  "Apparently at the first sign of 
trouble, she headed for the dressing room, collected her 
things, and went out the back way.  I'm glad I spotted her 
or I'd worry.  Anyway, I wanted to let you know, I'm sorry 
the evening ended like this.  I want you ladies to take 
cabs, too."  She offered them both a thin collection of 
bills.  Lois was reluctant to accept, but Melanie had no 
such qualms, grabbing the proffered cash with alacrity.  
More slowly, Lois took her share.  "Come in tomorrow at the 
regular time; we'll do our best to get the damage repaired 
before tomorrow night."  She glanced back at the doorway to 
the club, a slight frown crossing her face. 

Lois voiced the unspoken thought.  "Assuming the place 
doesn't burn down."

Melanie shook her head firmly and announced, "It won't.  I 
*know* these kinds of things."

Toni shrugged.  "Well, whatever happens, I'll deal with 
it."

Lois fingered the cab money, wondering what exactly had 
prompted the offer.  And Toni's wording tickled her 
curiosity.  Looking around, she asked, "Where is Johnny, 
anyway?"

Toni's smile flattened.  "He and his cronies have gone to 
find someplace to recover from their ordeal.  But don't 
worry, ladies," her tone sharpened slightly, "he'll be back 
tomorrow, no doubt in fine, traditional form.  Now if 
you'll excuse me, I have work to do."  She nodded curtly, 
then moved away to check on the next group of employees.

"My goodness," Melanie murmured, "you should just *see* her 
aura right now."

Before Lois could figure out how to respond to that, the 
club door opened, and the stranger emerged.  He looked a 
little tired, but with no damage, or even dirt that she 
could see.  He sought out Toni in the crowd and headed to 
her with a grim look.  They conferred for a moment in low 
tones, hugged once, and then he simply walked away.

Toni faced her employees and announced, "The fires are out, 
people.  Go back in to collect your belongings, and then go 
home.  But we need to see you all tomorrow, right on 
schedule.  Good night."

Lois turned to re-enter the club and nearly ran into a 
dreamy-eyed Melanie.  "Oh, sorry!"

"Oh, it was my fault," Melanie said immediately.  "I was 
just watching Kal."

Trying to make the inquiry seem casual, Lois asked, "Kal?  
Was that the guy who put out the fires?"

Melanie smiled.  "Kal Lewis, I think Brenda said his name 
was.  Isn't he dreamy?  He has the most marvelous 
vibrations, you know."

"I'll just bet," Lois answered sourly, feeling 
unaccountably grouchy.

"He's friendly with Toni," Melanie chattered on as they 
made their way to the dressing room.  "But I've never seen 
him bring a date, and Brenda said he's never been a pest to 
the dancers -- you know, trying to get in anyone's pants.  
And *you* talked to him!  I wish he'd talk to me...."  She 
sighed, her wistful words in stark contrast to her brisk 
movements as she stripped out of her costume and quickly 
dressed.

Lois smiled, her mood considerably lighter.  "I'll see if I 
can introduce you."  Grabbing her belongings, she retreated 
behind a privacy screen to change.  Time to put this 
ridiculous evening into proper perspective.  She hadn't 
made much progress on her case, but neither had she blown 
her cover.  True, Kal Lewis was very attractive, and she 
counted it in his favor that he hadn't stayed around to 
soak up any offered adulation.  She frowned, however, when 
she thought of him hugging Toni Taylor.  Not that she 
wanted to see him again -- he might ask too many questions 
-- and not that she was interested in dating anyone who 
would patronize the Metro Club.  Of course not.  Still, a 
tingle of anticipation ran through her as she wondered if 
she was likely to see him again.

****

In the pre-dawn dimness, Ching used the homing beacon to 
expertly land the ship.  The landing zone was not overly 
large, requiring some tricky maneuvering between local 
buildings, but it was perfectly flat and reassuringly solid 
under his landing gear.  He was unsure what to make of the 
pattern of straight yellow lines covering the black 
surface, but so far as his instruments could discern, they 
were harmless.

The camouflage force screen seemed to be functioning; the 
only way the humans would discover the ship would be for 
them to run into it, as Lord Kal-El had pithily suggested.  
Ching devoutly hoped that this area would remain 
undisturbed.  The Council had been most emphatic about 
avoiding discovery.

When the ship's engine was cut and the systems locked down, 
Ching leaned back in his chair, and saw his subordinates 
relax as well.  "Good work, men," he praised them, rather 
perfunctorily.  Whatever else they might be, they were a 
competent team, honing their skills over the past half-
cycle in space.  **My Lord Kal-El?** he sent 
telepathically.

**I am here,** came the instant reply.

**We have landed at the appointed place.  Are you prepared 
to board?** Part of Ching hoped that the answer would be 
no; he had been on duty for the past eight hours already, 
which had disturbed his rest cycle; and by his calculations 
Kal-El must have had a short night, also.  The lord's 
mental voice was disappointingly strong and steady.

**I am ready.  Open the main hatch.**  

At Ching's nod, Sev keyed the appropriate control, which 
both opened the hatch and made it visible.  Ching stood, 
stepping aside from the command chair, and assumed a review 
stance.  It was mere moments before Lord Kal-El entered the 
command deck, holding a small bag.  Sev and Zak stood and 
saluted.

"Brother in service, I greet you."  Lord Kal-El honored 
Ching with the most respectful of several traditional 
noble-to-officer salutations. 

Ching bowed.  "My lord Kal-El.  We are yours to command."

"I accept the burden of command."  Formal phrases dispensed 
with, Kal-El seemed to relax somewhat.  "Introduce your 
crew, Lieutenant Ching."

"They are Helm Officer Sev, and Engineer Zak.  We have 
spent half a cycle charting new territories and were on our 
way home when a courier intercepted us and redirected us 
here."

Kal-El tossed his small bag at Zak, who looked startled but 
managed to catch it against his chest.  "Take that to my 
cabin, please."  After Zak bowed and left, Kal looked back 
at Ching.  "Why did they send you?  I expected a normal 
courier ship, but this vessel seems larger than necessary."

Ching remained impassive.  "I only obey, my lord.  However, 
you were sent a sealed message.  Perhaps that will 
explain."  He picked up the packet from the console and 
handed it over.

Kal-El frowned at the sealed missive, and sat down in the 
command chair to open it.  The message itself appeared 
rather short, but Kal-El's face darkened as he read it.  
The word he muttered was not familiar to Ching, but from 
stray telepathic leakage he deduced that it was an 
obscenity.

Kal-El looked up, the message crumpling slightly from the 
pressure of his hand.  "Bad news," he reported succinctly.  
"And, I think, a change of plans.  The Lady Zara has been 
kidnapped."

Ching instinctively clamped a firm lid on his emotions; 
this news was horrifying, but he would not allow his 
reaction to betray him.  He kept his voice steady as he 
asked, "Who would do such a thing?"

"The Lord Nor," Kal-El replied, looking grim.  "Or so the 
council believes.  She was last seen five days ago, which, 
coincidentally, was the same time that Nor's ship departed 
for an unknown destination.  They suggest several 
possibilities for search."

Ching forced himself to think strategically.  "That would 
be why they wanted our ship, then.  This is the fastest in 
the fleet, with ample quarters and cargo space.  We will 
have the capacity for an extended search."  He hated to 
think of Zara in Nor's power; he didn't know the noble 
personally but his reputation was not good.  Nor had 
courted Zara's hand for years, not surprisingly as Zara was 
the last of the royal house, and whoever she married would 
become the new First Lord of New Krypton, displacing the 
current council.  As long as she had delayed formalizing 
her birth-marriage to Kal-El, Nor had seemed content to 
wait and press his suit.  Apparently his patience had 
deserted him.

"I trust our search won't be too extended," Kal-El mused 
absently.  "But we should be prepared.  How are we fueled 
and provisioned?"

"Our fuel storage is full, m'Lord -- this ship harvests the 
atmospheres of gas giants, and this system has supplied us 
amply.  Our food supplies, however, are running low."

"Hmm.  Well, there's no help for it; we'll have to remain 
here another day."  Kal-El seemed to come to a decision and 
looked up abruptly.  "When did you and your crew last 
sleep?"

Ching blinked at the unexpected question, then began 
mentally calculating.

"If you have to think about it, it's been too long," Kal 
observed dryly.  "We have time, and I'll need to obtain 
more of the local currency before purchase sufficient 
supplies.  As soon as the ship is secured, you are all 
relieved of duty -- I advise you to get some rest.   When I 
return, I will have your assignments."

****

The dressing room was abuzz with excitement when Lois 
entered it early the next afternoon.  That suited her; she 
was excited, too, so she'd fit right in.  Her long-standing 
request for a few weeks' leave had been granted at last.  
As soon as she wrapped up this case, she could begin 
packing for a trip to the beach.  She didn't even 
particularly care which beach it was, although she'd asked 
the travel agent to investigate airfares to Tahiti.  It was 
just as well that planning a vacation would take a few 
days, though; she couldn't afford to be distracted on the 
job.  

She'd already reported her meager progress to the colonel; 
he'd been quite encouraging.  He'd also cautioned her to 
take measures to protect herself, just in case.  With some 
reservations, she'd slipped a nine millimeter pistol into 
her oversized purse.  The weight was reassuring on her 
shoulder, but she was careful to swing the bag under the 
dressing table and out of sight; she didn't want anyone 
here to know she had a weapon.  She could hardly produce 
the proper permit as 'Lola Dane.'  Not that proper permits 
would likely be the main concern of any Metro Gang members.  
She supposed she could always fabricate some story about a 
harassing ex-boyfriend, if need be.  With any luck, 
however, the subject would not come up.  And so far, her 
luck was holding -- none of the men on base had made jokes 
about chicken costumes, or at least not in her hearing.  
Things were looking as bright as they could, she supposed.  
"Hey there," she called out as she slipped into an empty 
make-up chair.

"Hey, Lola," Brenda greeted, almost bubbling with 
excitement.  "Did you hear that Tanya quit?"

"Yeah, I heard," Lois commented slowly, not really 
surprised.  "She seemed pretty freaked by the fires last 
night."

Brenda shrugged.  "Well, I guess I can't blame her for that 
-- a girl's got a right to her phobias.  But she was the 
singer!  Now that she's gone, they've got to get somebody 
else -- this could be my big break!"

Francine snorted derisively, hardly looking up from her 
newspaper.  "You're not the only one here who sings, you 
know."

"No, but I'm good," Brenda insisted with a spark of 
determination.  "And I've been telling Johnny he should 
give me a chance."

Lois caught her eye in the mirror.  "Good luck," she said 
softly.  "You deserve it."  Belatedly, she wondered if she 
should have said 'break a leg' instead, though Brenda 
didn't seem to mind.  Lois smiled slightly; she wasn't very 
good at acting the part she'd created for herself.  Well, 
it only had to last another day or so.

"Thanks, Lola."  

The dressing room door opened again, and the fourth dancer 
breezed in.  In her gauzy top and multi-colored skirt, 
Melanie almost seemed to float, and she bore a wide smile.  
"Peace and greetings, girls!"

"And where have you been?" Francine demanded grumpily.  
"You're even later than usual."

"I was meditating with my crystals group," Melanie 
explained, settling herself into her seat and starting to 
look through her small costume rack.  "We were calling 
interstellar visitors -- to come in peace, of course."

"Of course," Brenda chorused, with only a hint of rolled 
eyes as she moved into some warm-up type stretches.  "So 
which did you ask for -- ET, or the kind from Aliens?"

Melanie smiled serenely.  "Neither, silly.  We want the 
real kind.  You know there has to be other intelligent life 
in the universe -- somewhere.  We just want to get in touch 
with them -- there's so much they could teach us!"

Lois smiled at the young woman's enthusiasm.  Had she ever 
believed in anything that whole-heartedly?  She loved her 
country, of course, and had gladly followed her father's 
footsteps into the army, but she was not unaware of the 
flaws in either of them.  "So what are we rehearsing today, 
and what do we have to wear?"

"They haven't said yet," Francine said, obviously 
unworried.

"They'll need to pick a new singer first," Brenda agreed, 
moving into leg lunges.  "Maybe I should go talk to 
Johnny."

"I wouldn't," Francine cautioned.  "He doesn't like it when 
women take the initiative."

Brenda scowled.  "You're the one sleeping with him, you 
should know."

Francine snorted.  "I'm hardly the only one, but yeah, 
trust me, I know."

A knock at the door drew all their attentions; after a 
short pause, perhaps to allow half-clad dancers to cover 
up, the door opened and Johnny Taylor poked his head in.  
"You all here?  Good."  Lois turned back towards her make-
up table, keeping an eye on him in the mirror.  "You 
probably heard that Tanya took off ... good riddance to bad 
rubbish, right?  Well, we need a new singer...."  His gaze 
wandered the room, touching on each of them briefly, then 
he smiled.  "Lola, here's the sheet music, be ready to sing 
tonight."  He tossed a file folder across the room; 
startled, she failed to catch it.  As the papers fluttered 
to the ground, Lois looked anxiously at Brenda.

Brenda was standing, staring at Johnny in shock that 
rapidly turned to rage.  "Johnny, why her?  Why not me?"

Johnny shrugged.  "I like her looks."

That only served to further inflame Brenda's temper.  "Damn 
it, Johnny, is this because I'm black?  Is that it?  You 
think the customers won't want to see a black body out 
there?  Because I've got a few names for you -- Billie 
Holiday, Aretha Franklin!"   
She sputtered for a minute, and Melanie helpfully supplied, 
"Tina Turner."  

Brenda picked up on the suggestion with a bare nod in her 
friend's direction.  "Exactly!  Those sisters had soul."

"Those sisters could sing," he retorted brutally.  

"You never even heard Lola sing!" Brenda fumed.

"I've heard you.  No, don't throw anything, girl."  Johnny 
moved his hand towards the inside of his jacket, and 
Francine and Melanie moved hastily to the sides of the 
room.  Brenda stood still, breathing heavily, staring 
stormily at her boss.  Then, with an obvious effort of 
will, she put down the hair brush she'd grabbed.  "That's a 
girl," Johnny crooned.  "You're a good dancer, Brenda; just 
concentrate on that."  Her eyes narrowed, and he gave up.  
"After Lola's number, we're doing two dance routines -- the 
details are in the folder.  I want to see all of you 
tonight, you hear?"  With one final glance around the room, 
he retreated, closing the door behind him.

Brenda's shoulder's slumped as he left.  Lois tentatively 
approached her.  "Brenda ... I'm so sorry."

The black woman glared at her for a moment, then closed her 
eyes.  "I know it's not your fault, Lola.  That SOB isn't 
ever going to give me a chance, and it's time I realized 
it."  An angry glare in Francine's direction defied 
comment.  "I'll dance tonight, and then by God, I'm finding 
a better job."

Lois watched Brenda storm out of the dressing room and 
reminded herself to relax.  This drama was entirely 
unrelated to her mission.  She made it a rule to never get 
personally involved in her cases, and she couldn't break 
that rule for a woman she hardly knew.  The important 
thing, as always, was the mission.  After all, she had a 
reputation to maintain.

When Lois had first discovered that she had been, however 
inadvertently, named after a character in a comic book, she 
had been embarrassed -- and reluctantly enthralled.  
Secretly, she'd devoured each weekly chronicle, hiding 
under the blankets with a flashlight.  She'd thrilled to 
her counterpart's adventures, and sighed dreamily over the 
relationship that the fictional Lois Lane had enjoyed with 
Clark Kent, AKA Superman.  Theirs had been a true 
partnership, and Lois had always hoped to one day achieve a 
similar union.

It had taken several disastrous relationships to extinguish 
that dream.  Since then, she had thrown herself into her 
work.  Perhaps she was destined to go through life alone, 
without a personal Superman -- she certainly wasn't eager 
to risk her heart again.  But she was determined to match 
her counterpart's successful career.  That would have to be 
enough.

**** 

Kal made his way back towards the ship, struggling to 
concentrate on the tasks of the day.  The first task had 
been to reacquire local currency; he'd discreetly disposed 
of his remaining cash yesterday, thinking he would no 
longer need it.  Accordingly, he had pawned his two 
remaining gemstones.  The pawnbroker/fence had offered him 
a ridiculously low price for the gems, had they been real, 
but it was enough for his purposes.  They would need time 
to re-supply, and the supplies would have to be purchased 
at several different markets to remain inconspicuous.  

Remaining here, however, had a deleterious effect on his 
concentration.  He found his thoughts slipping back to the 
dancer from last night with dismaying frequency.  She had 
been beautiful and brave, and wholly unlike any woman he'd 
ever known ... the thought of never seeing her again was 
tearing him apart.  He was baffled by it.  He'd found women 
attractive before, both here and at home, but had always 
been able to keep his feelings under proper control, 
deciding whether or not it would be prudent to explore the 
attraction.  Perhaps this was merely pique, because she was 
unavailable -- a perverse longing for what he could not 
have, simply because he could not have it.

If that were true, though, he would be very disappointed in 
himself.  He'd known for some years that physical 
satisfaction was fleeting, leaving him emptier afterwards 
than before.  What he really wanted was a deeper connection 
... the last thing he could expect with a professional 
dancer.  And yet, the fascination remained.

Making his way through the busy mid-morning crowds, Kal 
acknowledged that he wasn't entirely happy to be leaving 
Earth.  He had come to enjoy this bustling Metropolis with 
its carefree, emotional inhabitants.  Very likely his 
subconscious was using this dancer as a symbol of all he 
was leaving behind, and his strange feelings were just a 
manifestation of his deep ambivalence.  It made no 
difference in the end, of course.  Duty was duty.

Glancing casually up and down the busy street, Kal slipped 
into the alley that took him to the ship's landing zone.  
The parking lot had been empty for weeks, but as a 
precaution, he'd added a chain and padlock to the already-
closed gate.  He wasn't happy with this delay, but it was 
necessary if they were to be prepared for a long search.

As he approached the ship, Kal carefully controlled his 
thoughts, unhappily reminded of their mission.  He was not 
emotionally attached to his birth-wife, but he did value 
her as a friend and ally.  And if Kal hadn't volunteered 
for this observation assignment -- if he had formalized 
their birth marriage earlier, instead of following some 
inchoate restlessness -- Zara would not now be so 
vulnerable.  If Nor mistreated her in any way, Kal would 
make him pay for it, and pay dearly.

**Lieutenant Ching,** he sent as he arrived at the ship's 
position.  There was a slight shimmer visible in the air, 
betraying an active cloaking field, but the locals wouldn't 
understand what it meant.  If they could see it at all.  
Kal reminded himself of the need for caution.  He felt more 
comfortable back among his own people ... but concealing 
his strange powers was even more important among the people 
able to take advantage of it for their own gain.  Not that 
he doubted Lt. Ching's honor, but the crewmen were another 
matter.  For the first time, he wondered if these powers 
would fade once he was away from Earth.  He had assumed it 
was a local condition, but what if a permanent change had 
been affected?   Resolutely, he shook his head.  That was a 
problem for another day.

In silent answer to his query, the ship's hatch opened, 
making a startling hole in the apparently empty parking 
lot.  Kal walked inside quickly, checking behind him for 
witnesses, then closed the door, making the ship disappear 
once more.

On the flight deck, he found the entire crew waiting, 
looking more rested.  "Greetings."  He sorted through the 
lists in his hand.  "Who among you can speak the local 
language?"

"I have some proficiency," Ching replied gravely.

"M'lord, I learned it too," Sev volunteered in broken but 
passable English.  

Kal raised an eyebrow at this show of initiative.  "Good 
work, crewman."  He turned his attention to the last member 
of the crew, who blushed and hung his head.  "Well, you can 
take Zak with you; perhaps he'll learn on the job."  
Learning the language should not be difficult; telepathy 
offered a strong advantage in matching familiar concepts to 
unfamiliar words.  "Crewmen, you are in charge of food 
stocks.  I have listed local merchants and written detailed 
lists."  He passed the list to Sev.  "We need enough food 
for at least six weeks.  We do not want to attract undue 
attention, however -- you'll need to spread your purchases 
out over three or four establishments."  Kal handed over a 
large bundle of bills.  "This is the local currency, and it 
should be sufficient.  You will appear to blend in with the 
locals, and you are to do nothing that would reveal our 
existence, understood?"

They nodded submissively and Sev began pouring over the 
long list.  Kal switched his attention to Ching.  The 
lieutenant was looking dubious.  "Six weeks, m'lord?"

Kal sighed.  "I trust this mission will be over quickly, 
but I would not be caught under-prepared.  The Lady Zara is 
depending on us."

Ching nodded gravely, maintaining his bland image. 

"You and I, Ching, have our own mission.  I do not know 
what weaponry you have on board--"  Kal paused expectantly.  
He feared he knew the answer, and he did not look forward 
to challenging Nor on an unarmed ship.  Very few New 
Kryptonian vessels had weapons, preferring to concentrate 
on passive defenses, such as the ship's cloak.

"Why, none, other than the ship's mining equipment."

Kal cheered slightly at that.  Mining lasers could be used 
against ships as well as against asteroids -- though with 
unpleasant consequences for the inhabitants of the ship.  
"Well, we won't use that except as a last resort.  But it's 
something.  What we really need are some hand weapons, and 
I know where we can procure some."  He wasn't sure if they 
could manage to actually practice using the weapons, but if 
they were careful they might be able to extract some 
relevant information from the dealer, reading his memories 
to learn his skills.  "We will have to leave the city, so 
it will take some time.  Fortunately, the crew can be 
purchasing the food stocks while we're gone."

Kal looked up to see that crewman Sev was no longer 
perusing his long list; he was watching his superiors 
carefully.  Seeing that he had his lord's attention, he 
lowered his eyes.  "Begging your pardon, m'lord ... but 
what, exactly, are ... Ho-Ho's?"

****

"We're taking this organization to the next level.  Out of 
the back room, and into the boardroom."

Eavesdropping from the closet, Lois couldn't help feeling a 
small surge of admiration for Toni Taylor.  She had coolly 
faced down her brother and taken command of the Metro Gang.  
Not quite single-handedly, of course; Lois had been able to 
see some of the men backing Toni, with their guns drawn.  
Luckily, Johnny had had the sense to surrender peacefully, 
and two of Toni's new 'associates' had already escorted him 
out.  She supposed the Metro Police would be interested to 
hear of the gang's ambitions; they would all have to wait 
and see if it were possible to transform a bunch of petty 
criminals into legitimate businessmen.

Toni was now receiving updates on the gang's various 
enterprises, and Lois took desultory notes.  The police 
would like to know this, but it wasn't getting her any 
closer to the source of the fires.  Unless of course, the 
fires *had* been a weapon against Johnny, in which case 
they should stop.  

There was noise of movement in the meeting room, and Lois 
returned her eye to the peephole.  She saw Toni raise a 
hand before the first man reached the door.  "One more 
thing, people ... what happened in this room is private, at 
least for now.  I don't want wild rumors flying around."

"Word won't leave this club," a beefy man rumbled.

"That's not good enough," Toni snapped.  "I don't even want 
club employees to know.  Especially not the girls."  She 
smiled derisively.  "They're all either sleeping with 
Johnny, or want to, and if they knew he was out, who knows 
what would happen.  Let's not screw up tonight's show."

Lois rolled her eyes.  Either Toni had an extremely poor 
opinion of her lower-status sisters, or Johnny's inflated 
opinion of himself had been catching.  Probably both.  
There was a murmur of agreement from the men in the room as 
they filed out of the meeting.

Lois relaxed away from the peephole, stretching and rolling 
her neck to recover from the awkward position.  It seemed 
that she was no closer to discovering the truth behind the 
fires, or the source of the Toasters' technology, and she 
was no longer certain that she was spending her time 
profitably here.  Trapped in her "Lola Dane" persona, she 
could hardly start asking questions around the 
neighborhood.  Of course, she'd already asked around, to no 
avail.  And now that the Metro's little internal quarrel 
was solved, the next meeting might be more informative, so 
perhaps it was worth one more day.  

She grimaced.  Realistically, if she left the club now, 
she'd be leaving the neighborhood and unable to make any 
further progress, no matter what name she used.  That was 
unacceptable.  The Metro Club might be a slim chance, but 
it was better than none.  And if she were going to stay, 
she'd better go practice her solo.  The glittery white gown 
she'd be wearing was hardly her typical wardrobe, but she 
knew she would look good in it.  She couldn't help but 
wonder if Kal Lewis would be in the audience.  She refused 
to entertain the suspicion that he was a factor in her 
decision to stay.

****

When the New Kryptonians rendezvoused back at their ship, 
night was falling, further disguising their vessel.  The 
hatch opened by remote telepathic control, briefly rousing 
Kal-El's curiosity.  The transport pod that had dropped him 
off three years ago had had permeable walls that opened 
wherever necessary.  Then again, the interior of the pod 
had been small and open, with nothing dangerous waiting if 
one chose the wrong section of wall to open.  So perhaps a 
designated entry made sense.  Even if the stairs descending 
from nothingness did look a trifle bizarre.

"Crewmen, report," Kal ordered as they entered the ship and 
made their way to the command deck.

"Mission accomplished, m'lord," Sev replied proudly.  "It 
took five merchants and more time than it ought, but we 
purchased everything on the list.  We've filled an entire 
cargo hold, but there's another available if you need it, 
m'lord."

Kal shook his head.  "Our purchases today were not bulky."  
He and Lieutenant Ching had each acquired a handgun, and 
he'd even been able to find a gun range where they could 
practice aiming the weapons.  They were unfamiliar to him, 
but that meant they would be unfamiliar to Nor, as well, 
and hopefully unexpected.

"Are we ready to depart, m'lord?" Zak asked, almost shyly.

"No, Zak," Kal replied.  "We need to wait until the air 
traffic eases up, another ten hours or so.  Do you need 
another rest period?"

The young navigator blushed and shook his head.  "No, 
m'lord, thank you, m'lord, it's just... well, I was 
thinking, and Sev and I got to talking, and well..."

Kal arched an eyebrow and glanced at Sev, who was looking 
embarrassed as well.  "Would you care to translate?" he 
asked sardonically. 

"Women, m'lord," Sev said succinctly.  "We've been out on 
this mission for a very long time.  Lieutenant Ching said 
this wasn't to be shore leave, but we expected to be long 
gone by now."

Kal grinned, suddenly remembering Toni the night before, 
telling him to bring his friends to the club.  The 
temptation to see his dancer again was too strong to 
resist.  She had freely wandered around his mind all day, 
and he only hoped that Ching hadn't picked up on her 
echoes.  Perhaps if he saw her again, he could satisfy his 
curiosity and exorcise her from his thoughts.  Besides, 
they had the time, and the crew had requested it, so this 
wasn't mere self-indulgence.  "We weren't planning this, 
but..." He turned to his executive officer.  "Lieutenant?  
Have they performed their duties adequately?"

"Yes, sir," Ching replied, his face still as closed as it 
had been all day.  Kal was beginning to wonder what it 
would take to provoke a reaction from the impassive 
officer.

"In that case, I know the perfect place to visit.  This is 
entertainment only," Kal stressed, belatedly remembering 
that the crew were probably thinking of concubines rather 
than floor shows.  "You may look, but not touch or 
interact.  We cannot risk our presence becoming known."

Sev looked at the floor and mumbled, "Yes, m'lord."

****

"The world will pardon my mush, 'cause ... I have got a 
crush, oh my baby ... on you."  

As the last note died away, Lois nodded to the bandleader; 
this last try had worked much better.  "I think we've got 
it.  Just keep an eye on me and follow my lead, okay?"

He nodded agreement, then turned back to his band members, 
critiquing their individual performances.  Lois stepped 
down off the stage, pondering her options.  The club would 
open soon, and she was expected to work as a waitress for a 
few hours before show time.  She didn't mind dancing, and 
she found that she actually enjoyed the singing, but 
waitressing seemed too demeaning -- especially considering 
the absurd costume.  She reminded herself that it was all 
for a good cause.  Still, there was a little time before 
the club opened; perhaps she could have another look 
around.

Wandering through the kitchen and storage rooms gained her 
nothing; no board meetings to eavesdrop on, and no 
incriminating evidence left lying about.  She was about to 
give up when she caught a glimpse of Toni heading out a 
door that led only to a back alley.  Her curiosity was 
definitely roused, but caution held her back.  She needed a 
plausible excuse for going out that door.  Looking around, 
Lois spotted a pack of cigarettes sitting at an unmanned 
guard station.  She grabbed it, pulling one out and using 
the nearby lighter to ignite it.  Trying to act normally, 
she headed for the door and exited the building.

The back alley was small, and the fading sunlight still 
illuminated the few flapping newspaper scraps.  A few steps 
away from the door, Toni was speaking on a pay phone, her 
back to the door.  Lois made a show of looking the other 
way, which both concealed her interest in Toni and hid the 
fact that her cigarette never actually touched her lips.  
With any luck, Toni would assume she was merely on a smoke 
break.

Lois stood very still, waving the cigarette occasionally, 
and strained to hear what Toni didn't feel she could say in 
her own office.

"Yes, you've done very well ... You screwed up the 
objective last night, but I managed anyway.  No," her voice 
dripped sarcasm, "why should I blame you?  Johnny's out of 
the picture and the club didn't burn down -- no thanks to 
you, of course, but never mind ... you've served your 
purpose."  There was a brief pause, then Toni spoke again, 
her voice harder.  "I need to meet with you -- all of you.  
Midnight tonight.  The usual place."  Another pause.  "Yes, 
fine ... but this will be the final payment.  And I don't 
want any more fires, understand?  Good."  Toni hung the 
phone up roughly, and after a moment, Lois could hear her 
footsteps approaching.

"Lola?"

Lois couldn't help flinching, but she tried to make it work 
for her.  "Ms. Taylor!" she squeaked in simulated surprise.  
"I, um, didn't see you ... uh, I was just ..."  She waved 
her cigarette around, then threw it down on the ground, 
crushing it with her shoe.  "I've been trying to quit, but 
sometimes ... well, I was nervous about tonight and all, 
and ..."  She let her voice trail off guiltily, keeping her 
eyes downcast.

Toni snorted.  "Smoking is a very bad habit for a singer."

"Oh, I know," Lois said, raising rueful eyes.  "And mostly 
I'm fine, honestly, but ... I'll do better from now on."

Toni studied her for a moment, clearly trying to work out 
whether Lois had heard anything, or whether to take her 
story on face value.  "See that you do.  I'll be keeping an 
eye on you."

"Yes, ma'am," Lois nodded humbly, fully aware of the double 
meaning.  She let herself be maneuvered back inside, then 
left Toni to head for the dressing room.  It was empty, and 
from the main room she could hear the sounds of the dancers 
rehearsing their routine for the night.  She sat down in 
her chair, glad for the respite.

So, Toni Taylor had been behind the Toasters all along -- 
as part of her plan to take over the Metros, apparently.  
Lois was pleased that her speculation along those lines had 
been correct.  She considered then rejected the idea of 
reporting to the Metro Police; if the Toasters were using 
stolen technology, that needed to be kept quiet.  A quick 
call to the Colonel would set things in motion; he could 
arrange for a small squad to follow Toni to her midnight 
meeting -- Lois was technically only responsible for 
intelligence gathering, not arrests.  She was tempted to 
keep it all to herself until she could deliver the whole 
case tied up with string, but military discipline had 
taught her to share vital information.  Sometimes another 
player on the team was in a better position to score, so it 
made sense to pass the ball.

It took only a few minutes to revisit the pay phone in the 
alley and report in to her Colonel.  He had been very 
pleased at her progress, and she smiled to herself with 
justifiable pride.  She had done a good job under demeaning 
conditions, and as soon as the loose ends were wrapped up -
- hopefully at midnight -- she would be free to concentrate 
on her vacation.

It occurred to her that she could leave the club now, as 
the mission was all but finished.  She could still follow 
Toni later with the tactics squad, properly dressed in 
uniform.  She didn't have to demean herself serving drinks.  
She didn't have to display herself on stage.  She didn't 
have to see Kal again ...  She scowled.  What was it with 
that man?  Why did she keep thinking of him?  He's nothing 
special, she told herself sternly, and if you saw him again 
you'd realize that.

She would stay at the club and do her job because she had 
agreed to do so; it was a matter of honor, nothing more.  
Besides, her practical side whispered, Toni and the 
Toasters hadn't been arrested *yet.*  Toni had been 
suspicious of her earlier; if she disappeared, it might 
spook Toni into rearranging her plans.  Okay, so she'd also 
see Kal Lewis again, but seeing him under such seedy 
circumstances would show his true character and allow her 
to dismiss him from her mind once and for all.  A patron of 
the Metro Club was not worth mooning over.

Nodding briskly, she rose and began dressing for the 
evening.

**** 

Kal and Ching sat together, leaving the lower class crewmen 
to the relative social comfort of a separate table.  Kal 
noted that Sev was enjoying the attention of his waitress, 
and using his new proficiency in English to attempt a 
clumsy flirtation. 

Ching followed his glance.  "I'll keep an eye on him, 
m'Lord.  Zak should not be a problem, but Sev ... gets 
carried away."  There was an element of distaste in the 
Lieutenant's voice, leading Kal to wonder just what Sev had 
done to annoy his superior -- aside perhaps from being too 
obsequious.  Kal had been annoyed by the man's bowing and 
scraping, but he realized he was far from an objective 
observer.  Three years of being treated as nothing special, 
of no favor being unearned, had been strangely refreshing, 
and it felt decidedly odd to return to a system of enforced 
adulation.  Whatever the offense, however, it couldn't have 
been too serious, and it seemed that Ching had the 
situation -- and his feelings -- under control.  

Kal glanced around the club.  It was strange to return to 
this place when he thought he'd said goodbye forever.  
There were hasty repairs and re-decorations to cover the 
scars of last night's fires, but all in all the club looked 
the same.  The band was playing something soft and jazzy.  
Kal was disinclined to make conversation, and Ching seemed 
equally quiet.

It was impossible to avoid thinking about the dancer.  He 
wondered why she had become a dancer; it was not a high 
status profession, at least not as practiced at the Metro 
Club.  She had the body for it, but she hadn't seemed very 
comfortable on stage.  That awkwardness had stood in stark 
contrast to her confidence later, coolly putting out those 
fires.  Kal had seen many dancers come and go, and while 
they were generally decent people, this one was just 
different somehow.

Kal sighed.  If only he had seen her a year ago.  He sensed 
that she would not have been easy to seduce, which would 
have been a fascinating challenge.  Kal had never really 
had to work at getting a woman into his bed, starting with 
the concubine who had been a coming-of-age present from his 
foster-father.  Although he had tried to be considerate, he 
knew that his position in New Kryptonian society had 
guaranteed him access to the lower classes.  But each 
coupling had meant less than the last, until he'd been 
nearly celibate.  He had hoped that his liaison with Toni 
Taylor would have been different, made more meaningful by 
the fact that she was his social equal and a voluntary 
partner, but it still hadn't been enough.  If a business 
executive had fallen short, he had no reason to suspect 
that a mere entertainer would be a more fit partner for him 
... but something within him longed to make the experiment.  

The house lights dimmed and the band began a flourish.  
Very carefully, Kal set down his drink and angled his chair 
slightly away from Ching, clamping even stricter control 
over his conscious thoughts.  He and Ching had not 
communicated telepathically since the ship's arrival, but 
Kal was taking no chances.

The stage was set only with a microphone, and Kal relaxed; 
he could easily ignore Tanya.  But the figure that moved 
forward, in a glittering white gown, was not Tanya's.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the speaker system announced, "The 
Metro Club is proud to introduce ... Lola Dane!"

Without waiting for a reaction, Lola began her song, 
crooning huskily about a lover's pursuit and her glad 
acquiescence.  She was smiling as she sang, using subtle 
body language to express the joys of being in love.  Kal 
was unexpectedly touched.  Love had never been a feature in 
his relationships, and he'd never realized the lack of it 
before.  Lola's gaze moved around the room as she sang, and 
as she began the first chorus, her eyes locked with his.

Was it his imagination, or did the song falter for a 
moment?  He felt his heart stop, and even as some distant 
part of his brain told him how ridiculous it all was, he 
knew that this woman touched something deep inside him, a 
part of him that no woman had ever before been able to 
reach.

He watched in rapt fascination as she finished her song.  
After the first long look, she had broken eye contact with 
him to scan the room again, but he noticed smugly that her 
gaze returned to him, over and over.  Beneath the facade of 
portraying a woman happily in love, he thought he saw 
puzzlement in her eyes.  He would have to tell her that he 
didn't understand, either, but there was clearly a 
connection between them.  Once her song was finished, he 
would seek her out backstage; he knew the layout well 
enough, and the bouncers would allow him access, he felt 
sure.  He needed to know everything about her ... her 
background, her training, her views ... how her mouth 
tasted, how her body felt against his ... he was consumed 
with a need to get close to her, and to stay there forever.  
The song finished, and with one last look in his direction, 
Lola Dane left the stage.  Kal shifted in his seat, ready 
to follow as soon as the lights came up.

"M'lord?"  Ching's voice broke into Kal's thoughts, an 
unpleasant reminder of reality.

Kal blinked once, trying vainly to clear his head.  When he 
felt he was somewhat under control, he turned to face his 
subordinate.  "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Ching was regarding him carefully, with a hint of censure 
in his eyes, and Kal fought the stirrings of shame.  No 
doubt his reaction had been clear, telepathically or not.  
"M'lord," Ching spoke mildly, "we have a mission to prepare 
for.  Perhaps we had best retire to the ship.  To plan our 
strategy for rescuing the Lady Zara."

Part of Kal raged and wept internally at the thought of 
leaving, but his training and duty were unrelenting.  "Of 
course.  Lady Zara is our first priority."  He forced a 
smile.  "I'll return to the ship."

Ching smiled back, just as falsely.  "I'll accompany you, 
m'lord -- if I may."  

Kal nodded, accepting the hint of rebuke.  After all, he'd 
earned it.  As he rose, he spotted Zak and Sev, engrossed 
in the show.  Zak wore an expression of almost child-like 
delight, and even Sev seemed to have toned down his earlier 
exuberance.  Kal was tempted to order them back to the 
ship, as well -- if he couldn't enjoy the show, none of 
them could -- but he restrained himself.  "The crewmen may 
remain for the rest of the show, don't you think?"

Ching shrugged, his attention clearly centered on Kal.  "As 
you say, M'Lord."

Kal sighed, giving in to the inevitable.  His duty was 
clear, and his future was set.  And that future most 
assuredly did not include Lola Dane.

****  

Lois made her way to the dressing room on automatic pilot, 
still in a daze.  She had half expected to see Kal again -- 
almost hoped for it.  But she hadn't been prepared for her 
reaction when she'd spotted him.  She'd nearly forgotten 
the words to the song at the shock of meeting his eyes.  
There had been such a sense of vulnerability from him, a 
sense of longing and desire, aimed squarely at her.  She 
had expected, going out in front of such a crowd, to be 
lusted over somewhat.  Part of her had even enjoyed the 
experience, secure in the knowledge that she remained in 
control.  And she had received her fair share of 
appreciative looks, but they had all been impersonal.  
Except for the intensely personal scrutiny by Kal Lewis.  
Meeting his eyes had been an almost physical sensation 
every time she glanced his way.

She glanced at the dressing room door, wondering how long 
it would take him to find his way backstage.  She was 
surprised he hadn't appeared already; his intent to follow 
her couldn't have been plainer if he'd shouted the words 
aloud.  She had no idea what she would say to him, though.  
No matter how strongly she reacted to him -- and she could 
no longer deny that there was an attraction there -- these 
were still impossible circumstances.  She was not who she 
appeared, and he was a long-time patron of the Metro Club -
- hardly the sort of man she'd dreamed of.  She needed to 
be rational about this.

As the minutes ticked past, however, the quiet of the 
dressing room was undisturbed, and Lois slowly realized 
that he wasn't coming.  Clenched stomach muscles relaxed 
suddenly, and she laughed softly at herself for over-
dramatizing.  Obviously, she had read too much into things.  
With slightly trembling hands she began changing costumes.  
In a few moments, she was due out on stage again with the 
other dancers.  And this time, she wouldn't be rattled by 
intense stares from anyone.

Once she was changed and had touched up her face and hair, 
she made her way to the tiny backstage area, passing the 
other dancers as they rushed offstage to get into their new 
costumes in time for the next number.  Peeking through the 
curtain, she ordered her stomach to behave, but it was 
unnecessary.  Kal's table was empty, and was being cleaned.  
He was gone.

****

"This is amazing!" Zak enthused in his native Kryptonian, 
enjoying himself immensely.  Never before had he seen so 
many beautiful women in one place, nor so scantily dressed, 
and he was busily trying to see and memorize every 
fascinating sight.  

Sev smiled, somewhat condescendingly.  "It is, yes.  It's a 
shame we can only enjoy these entertainments for one night, 
isn't it?"

"I guess," Zak replied, his eyes never leaving the stage, 
"but what a night!  Look at that one -- I didn't know women 
could move like that."

Sev snorted amusement.  "And you're not the only one 
enthralled tonight.  Did you see the way Lord Kal-El was 
watching that singer?"

Zak shrugged.  "I know how I was watching her; that's about 
it."

"You should have seen his face," Sev mused.  "It almost 
gave me an idea."

It finally occurred to Zak that his crewmate had something 
in mind, and reluctantly, he turned to face him.  "What 
sort of an idea?"

"Oh, just something to make the upcoming voyage more 
enjoyable.  A souvenir, of sorts.  But I'll need your 
help."  Sev leaned forward, pinning Zak with an intense 
gaze.  "We have an opportunity to gain favor -- if you are 
brave and resourceful enough --" His look became 
challenging.  "It will benefit all of us, especially Lord 
Kal-El.  Are you in?"

Zak sat up straighter, determined not to disappoint his 
older colleague.  "If you're up for it, I'm with you," he 
said rashly.

Sev smiled.  "Good.  Here's what we do..."

****

"Free at last, free at last," Brenda declared as they 
entered the dressing room after the final dance number of 
the evening.  "Praise God Almighty, I am free at last!"

Lois couldn't help smiling at her new friend's defiant 
energy.  "So when are you going to give your notice?"

"Already did," Brenda replied from behind the privacy 
screen, stripping out of her costume with practiced speed.  
"I wanted to give it to Johnny his damn self, but he wasn't 
here, so I told Toni."  She snorted.  "She almost fell over 
herself paying me off."

"We'll miss you, Brenda," Melanie put in, looking 
woebegone.  Then she brightened.  "But when you find a 
better job, see if they have a place for me, okay?"

Brenda smiled at her.  "Sure thing."  Emerging from behind 
the screen in her street clothes, she sat down in front of 
a mirror to clean off the stage makeup.  "I'll keep you 
posted.  You too, Lola, if you want."

Lois smiled, touched by the offer.  "Thanks, but I have a 
feeling my entertainment career is going to be pretty 
limited."  In fact, it was already over.  She'd have to 
hurry if she wanted to meet up with the tactics squad, and 
then tomorrow she was going on well-deserved leave, and 
after that, her promotion to Captain would probably entail 
reassignment.  Lois was hoping for duty in Europe, but she 
wouldn't mind going to the Pentagon, either.  Not that she 
could explain any of that at the moment.  "I don't think I 
have the stamina for it."  She glanced over at Francine, 
whom Brenda had pointedly not mentioned.  The older woman 
was concentrating on her mirror, looking only slightly 
grimmer than usual.

A knock on the dressing room door startled them all, and 
Lois turned, wondering if Kal was showing up at last.  When 
Melanie opened the door, however, she saw two young men.  

Something about them seemed familiar to Lois, but it took 
her a second to tease out the connection.  They were 
wearing pseudo-military uniforms, markedly similar to the 
one Kal's companion had been wearing.

"Greetings."  Melanie smiled at them.  The younger one 
smiled back, blushing, but his friend's expression remained 
remote.

"Good evening," he replied.  His speech bore a slight 
accent, but Lois was unable to place it.  "I have a 
request."

"We're through for the evening, honey," Francine called 
out, not bothering to look at them.

"Yes," he agreed, "but we have a private party.  We will 
pay you well for your time."

He had caught Brenda's attention with that, and Melanie 
stopped flirting with the younger man to become 
businesslike.  "What sort of private party?  We don't 
strip."

The younger man looked confused for a moment, then began 
blushing furiously.  "No, no," explained his colleague.  
"Only dancing, like on stage.  And singing."  He glanced in 
Lois's direction, and she shivered, feeling a vague sense 
of menace.  Which was ridiculous.  Lois Lane feared no man; 
she was an expert in martial arts and had a pistol in her 
purse.  She stiffened her spine and stared back coolly.  He 
quickly looked away, choosing instead to speak to Brenda.

"This could lead to new jobs, yes?  Our ..." he appeared to 
struggle for a word, "our boss is new in town, and will be 
opening a new club.  We liked what we saw tonight."

Brenda raised her chin.  "Great.  I'll go."

He ducked his head apologetically.  "We would like all of 
you to come.  You dance as a group, after all."

Brenda surveyed her co-workers challengingly.  "Well, 
ladies?"

"I'm not so sure," Melanie said.  "I mean, we don't know 
these guys ... even if they are cute."  She winked at the 
younger one, and set him blushing again.

"I am Sev," the leader introduced himself, gesturing 
towards his silent partner.  "This is Zak.  He does not 
speak much English."

"There's safety in numbers," Brenda told Melanie.  "And 
this could be a good chance for us.  You guys don't want to 
stay here forever, do you?"

"Not particularly," Francine admitted, paying attention at 
last.  "But you'd better make sure it's a better deal 
before you leap."

"It's just an audition.  Sort of.  Come on, Francine, don't 
you get in my way here."  Brenda turned back to the 
spokesman, demanding, "How long is this party?  We've 
already worked a full shift."

"You will be home before you know it," Sev promised 
gravely. 

Lois eyed him with growing distrust; something about him 
had her intuition sending danger warnings.  Then again, her 
intuition had let her down once already this evening; she 
had been so sure that Kal would follow her backstage, when 
instead he'd left the club.  She hated feeling so unsure.

"I'll go," Melanie declared, with an eye on her blushing 
admirer.  "I think it could be fun."

"All right then, count me in."  Francine shrugged.  "I can 
always use extra money."

Brenda turned, searching out Lois.  "Lola, are you in?  You 
know you owe me this."

Lois hesitated.  She did feel a residual sense of guilt 
over being chosen to sing, and more than that, she liked 
Brenda, and wanted to help her.  If this were all on the 
level, she should go along.  If it weren't, however ... 
things could get ugly.  Even beside her instinctive feeling 
of distrust in Sev, Lois was uneasy about this "private 
party."  The two men might have some sort of connection to 
Kal, but a similarity of uniform did not guarantee any 
other similarities; they could still be dangerous.  For all 
she knew, Kal could be dangerous.  But Brenda's reckless 
mood seemed to have spread to the others, and if they were 
determined to go, then the least she could do was go along 
to protect them.  Regretfully, she gave up the idea of 
following Toni.  The tactics squad could handle that 
assignment perfectly well on their own; these dancers might 
need help.  "Okay, fine, if you're all going, I'll go too."

Sev smiled ever so slightly, his eyes glinting.  
"Excellent.  We are most pleased."

Brenda smiled fiercely.  "Great.  Let's get our stuff and 
get out of here."  

The men were banished from the room while the ladies got 
out of costume and into their street clothes.  Lois held 
her bag carefully as they all left the club, her handgun 
reassuringly heavy within.  Perhaps this was a normal 
occurrence -- the other dancers seemed to find little amiss 
-- but she paid close attention as they left the club 
through a back entrance and began walking towards the 
street.  Zak, who still had not said much apart from a few 
mumbles to Melanie, was leading the way, but Sev seemed to 
be falling slightly behind them, a positioning that raised 
Lois's hackles.

"So where's the limousine?" Brenda asked, in determined 
high spirits.

"The party is only a few blocks away," Sev said.  "A short 
walk."

It was a short walk, and though Brenda and Melanie were 
chatting, Lois felt her nerves growing tighter with every 
step.  As they turned a corner down an alley, she could no 
longer keep silent.  "Ladies, I'm not so sure this is a 
good idea."

For the first time, facing an unlit alleyway, Brenda's 
bravado faltered.  "Well, maybe..."

"Keep walking, please," Sev directed in a firm tone.  

Feeling a trickle of dread go up her spine, Lois turned and 
saw that he had drawn a handgun and was pointing it 
steadily at them.  She was almost relieved to have the 
threat revealed, but with the two men bracketing the women, 
it was not a good moment to strike back.

"We will not harm you," Sev promised with an oily smile.  
"But we would like the pleasure of your company for a 
little while."

Francine rolled her eyes, and Brenda looked disgusted.  
"Oh, thanks.  This is terrific.  First I get screwed over 
by my boss, and now I'm being held at gunpoint.  Could this 
day get any better?"

Lois winced at the defiant tone.  She knew the black girl 
didn't lack for courage, and probably felt she had little 
to lose, but to maximize their chances, they had to wait 
for a better opportunity.  "Calm down, Brenda," she 
soothed, moving a little closer to her new friend.  "Let's 
see what they have in mind, okay?"

Brenda looked incredulous, but must have seen something 
reassuring in Lois's calm face.  "Okay, fine, whatever."  
She threw up her hands and turned back towards the alley.  
"There's got to be a limit to my bad karma at *some* 
point..."

With a resentful glance at Sev, Francine followed, 
muttering something under her breath.  Only Melanie stayed 
put, looking terrified.  Lois walked up to her and gave her 
a brief hug, whispering, "I've got a gun."  When she pulled 
back to study the girl's face, she saw comprehension 
dawning.  

"But then, why...?" Melanie asked quietly, darting a 
pointed glance at Sev.

"Timing," Lois told her quietly, "is everything."

Melanie still didn't look convinced, but with one more 
searching look at Lois, she pulled herself together.  Lois 
reached for her hand, and they both entered the alley.

"Very good," Sev said coolly.  "Zak, you open the gate."

Lois strained to see as they passed a chain-link fence into 
what appeared to be a parking lot.  There were no 
streetlights, and between these tall city buildings the 
darkness was thick.  Sev remained close behind them, but 
tantalizingly out of range of a Tai Kwon Do kick.  And she 
still didn't know if Zak was armed, so Lois forced herself 
to remain passive.  Her opportunity would come, she felt 
sure.

Suddenly, a set of stairs appeared in front of them, dimly 
lit only from within.  Zak helped Brenda and Francine 
inside.  "Lola," Melanie whispered, a quaver in her voice, 
"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Be patient," Lois advised softly as they entered and began 
walking up the broad staircase.  The surface of the stairs 
was unfamiliar under her feet, not quite as rough as 
concrete, tinted pink by the strangely reddish lighting.  
And there was a faint hum in the air.  At the top of the 
stairs, Zak ushered them into a large room, remaining 
outside the doorless entrance.  Lois turned as soon as she 
passed into the room.  She finally had her friends on one 
side and the enemy on the other -- this was her 
opportunity.  She took a deep breath and reached into her 
purse.

Before she could even speak, however, the wall seemed to 
move, smoothly closing the entrance and shutting them all 
in.  Sev's voice floated through the barrier.  "Sleep well, 
ladies.  It will be a long trip."

**** 

"I demand to know why you have abducted me."  Zara stood 
tall, her chin held defiantly high.  This was the first 
time she'd seen her captor since being forcibly removed 
from her own home, and the days in solitary confinement had 
stretched her nerves to the breaking point.  Not that she 
had any intention of letting her weakness show.

Lord Nor pursed his lips disapprovingly.  "Well, you may 
call it an abduction if you wish; I prefer to think of it 
as ... a romantic elopement.  I apologize for neglecting 
you on the voyage, my dear, but this ship is a trifle 
short-handed, and I felt it necessary to ensure our safety 
above all.  Besides, we are already well-acquainted, are we 
not?"

"I believe I know everything I need to know," Zara agreed 
grimly, trying not to give anything away.  She had always 
forced herself to remain civil to this man, regardless of 
her personal feelings, because she had a duty to her 
society to pick their next leader carefully.  The closer 
she had investigated Nor, however, the stronger her 
conviction had been that he would be a disastrous choice.  
His estates were in disarray, the result of poor 
management, and some of the rumors circulating through the 
lower city hinted at an unsavory personal life.

"So then," Nor concluded with a falsely pleasant smile.  
"No one will be surprised when you return and announce that 
you've married me, will they?"

"I can think of a few," Zara commented, thinking of her 
formidable Aunt Alys.

"Yes, well, Lord Kal-El will have to recover from the 
shock," Nor said, misunderstanding her.  "But I feel sure 
he will manage.  Especially when you assure him that this 
was your free choice."

Zara raised an eyebrow.  "You're expecting a bit much, 
don't you think?"

Nor moved a half-step closer, stopping his advance when she 
stiffened.  "My dear Lady Zara," he coaxed in a soft tone.  
"I will allow you time to make your decision, but only 
consider ... Our society is so protective of a woman's 
honor that the only time she is allowed to be alone with a 
man ... as you are now alone with me ... is when that man 
is a relative or her husband.  While I do of course have a 
great fondness for you, I am not a relative.  That, I fear, 
leaves you little choice.  There is really only one 
honorable path to follow.  I am infinitely sorry to have 
placed you in such a position," he smiled, with incongruous 
charm, "but time ran short.  No, don't reply now.  I prefer 
that you take time to consider your position, and your 
options -- or lack thereof.  This crew really does need me, 
so I must go.  Take care, my dear."  With a mocking bow, he 
retreated out the door of her cell, leaving Zara alone once 
more.

She sat down slowly, retaining only enough control not to 
fall.  After days of anticipation balanced out by 
functional boredom, the excitement of the confrontation had 
been a bit much.  Nor's comments on society did make her 
pause.  In general terms, of course, he was right.  A noble 
lady simply didn't entertain a man alone, let alone go off 
on a space ship with him.  The fact that she had been given 
no choice in the matter would be considered irrelevant; she 
*had* been alone with him -- still was, technically -- and 
the damage was done.  The only way to retain her honor was 
to marry him.

Zara rebelled at the thought.  This situation was about far 
more than just her personal reputation.  Whoever she 
married would be the next First Lord of New Krypton, and 
Zara was not about to succumb to these despicable tactics.  
Besides, she was pragmatic enough to know that this little 
misadventure would not seriously damage her marriage 
prospects.  The Council might not like it, but by law she 
was the only gateway to continued peace.  If they stripped 
her of her position, they would provoke civil war, and they 
knew it.  No one wanted to provoke war if there were any 
alternative.  Nor's elaborate scheme to trap her into 
marriage only proved the point.  Of course, if he gave up 
hope of marrying her ... he might be desperate enough to 
try anything.

She closed her eyes, feeling a headache build.  
Realistically, what were her options?  She simply couldn't 
face going through with a marriage to Nor; even a 
ritualistic consummation would be too sickening to 
consider, and when she contracted with the birth center to 
begin an embryo, she wanted *much* higher quality paternal 
DNA.  A flat-out refusal, on the other hand, held risks as 
well.  She would have to stall as best she could.

A rescue attempt was underway, she felt sure.  Aunt Alys, 
although female and technically powerless, held great 
influence in the capital, and would certainly maneuver some 
sort of rescue effort.  Kal-El had been about to return 
from his surveillance mission; it was possible that he 
would be involved.  Ching was nearly due home, as well, but 
would the family that had sent him away in the first place 
send him after her now?  She doubted it.  Zara wished she 
knew more about various types of spacecraft; it had been 
difficult enough worming economic information out of the 
Council.  The rescue might well fail.

Perhaps she could somehow influence the odds.  If only she 
were allowed out of this room, she might find opportunities 
for sabotage.  Destroying the ship would be too extreme; 
not that she would shrink from giving her life for a just 
cause, but with the succession undecided, her death would 
cause chaos back home.  Zara sighed, feeling the heavy 
weight of responsibility she carried.  There had to be a 
more rational way to rule a planet.

****

The room they were being held in was dimly lit, with four 
padded benches that seemed intended to be beds, and a small 
pile of women's clothing in various sizes.  After prowling 
the edges of the room in vain hopes of finding an escape 
route, Lois joined the other women sitting on the benches.  
"I'm sorry.  I can't find any way out."

Francine opened weary eyes long enough to say, "Don't 
apologize, Lola.  We all looked.  And it isn't your fault 
we're in this mess."

Lois couldn't accept absolution that easily.  Here she was, 
a trained and competent officer in the United States Army, 
the world's finest fighting force -- in the Intelligence 
Division for pete's sake! -- and she had meekly walked 
right into a trap.  Sev was going to pay for that next time 
she got close to him.  "I should have done something," she 
muttered glumly.

"Like what?" Brenda demanded.  "They had us surrounded.  
No, it's not your fault."  She squeezed her eyes shut.  
"It's mine -- isn't that what you meant, Francine?  Yeah, I 
fell for their line, but I wasn't the only one, honey.  You 
were right there with me -- we all fell for it."

"Lola didn't," Melanie said quietly, watching Lois closely.

Brenda glared at Melanie.  "Oh thank you so much, that 
makes me feel so much better.  Okay, so I was desperate 
enough to buy their story, and I wanted you guys to come 
too, but if you hadn't been so busy making eyes at that Zak 
guy--"

Lois winced at the rising tone of anger.  "Maybe I should 
make a confession here," she interrupted.  "I'm not really 
Lola Dane."

That got Brenda's puzzled attention, and Francine opened 
one eye.  Melanie continued to study her.

"My name is Lois Lane, and I'm an Army officer 
investigating the Toasters.  There were rumors that they 
were connected to the Metro Club, so I wanted to get 
inside.  I'm sorry to have deceived you all."

Francine closed her eyes again, seeming to lose interest, 
while Brenda looked annoyed.  "I lost a gig to you and 
you're not even a pro?  Man, that bites.  I could just 
*kill* Johnny."

Melanie nodded.  "I knew there was something about you.  
That explains the gun, too."

"A gun?" Brenda yelped.  "Girlfriend, if you were packing, 
why the hell are we here?"

Lois winced, fighting her own guilt.  "I could have taken 
Sev -- probably -- but I didn't know if Zak was armed, and 
I thought I'd get a better chance if I waited.  I'm sorry."  
Of course, so far nothing irrevocable had happened; Sev and 
Zak undoubtedly had some sort of plan, but if they thought 
Lois Lane was going to tamely play along, well, they 
obviously hadn't read enough Superman comics in their 
misspent young lives.  "But it means we're not defenseless.  
We'll probably be able to get away in the morning.  I can't 
do anything until they come back, but they must have 
something planned for us, so when they make their move, 
I'll --" Frowning, she stopped talking in order to listen.  
The strange distant hum she'd noticed when first entering 
the stairwell had abruptly intensified, and she was feeling 
a gentle vibration in the floor.

Brenda was looking around, too, and gently touched the 
wall.  "There's some powerful machinery in this building 
... are they running the air conditioning?"

The vibration and hum increased again, this time 
accompanied by a high-pitched whine, and Lois suddenly felt 
herself pressed against the floor.  A quick look told her 
the others were feeling something, too.

Francine opened her eyes, looking around fearfully.  "I 
don't suppose this is just a really big elevator."

Melanie shook her head solemnly.  "I thought something was 
strange when we came onboard, but I wasn't sure, and--"

"Onboard?" Brenda asked sharply.

"I think we're on a spaceship," Melanie replied simply.  
Abruptly, the downward pressure ceased.  "And we've just 
achieved lift-off."

"No way," Lois said flatly.  Every logical thought she'd 
ever had rebelled at the idea of spaceships, let alone her 
presence on one.  

Francine echoed the sentiment in blunter language, and went 
on to say, "You've been to too many crystal parties, girl."

Melanie looked mulish.  "You guys have a better 
explanation?  Go ahead, I'd like to hear it."

"Come on, guys," Brenda coaxed.  "This is just a cargo 
elevator, right?  I mean, it's kinda big, but..."  Her 
voice trailed off as it became evident that no one, 
including her, believed this theory.

"There aren't any buttons," Melanie pointed out stubbornly.  
"And why would you have to go up a flight of stairs to get 
to an elevator?"

Lois was silent for a moment, ignoring the elevator 
digression.  "There are aircraft that do vertical 
takeoffs."

Melanie just looked at her in silent challenge.

"But I don't know of any that are this big," Lois admitted.  
"It's not exactly my field -- I'm Army -- but we usually 
hear about them sooner or later, 'cause anything this big 
would probably be a troop carrier."

"The space program have any breakthroughs lately?" Brenda 
asked belligerently.

"Not since Space Station Luthor went up."  Lois frowned, 
trying to remember any scraps of insider gossip to come her 
way.  It wasn't really her field of interest, but some of 
the guys on base were space nuts, and it generally took 
threats of violence to shut them up when they got excited 
over something new.  Even the slightest rumor of a 
spacecraft this large would have whipped them into a 
positive frenzy.  "They're still chasing their own tails to 
figure out what went wrong with the Messenger."

They looked at each other for a moment before Francine 
asked the obvious question.  "Are these guys from outer 
space or something?"

Brenda looked pained.  "They look human enough."

"And Kal's been hanging around the Metro Club for a couple 
of years, you said, right?" asked Melanie.

Francine frowned at her.  "What's Kal got to do with it?"

Lois took another look at Melanie; she hadn't realized the 
younger woman had made the same connections she had.  

"Sev and Zak wore uniforms," Melanie explained.  She shot 
an inquiring glance towards Lois.  "I didn't recognize 
them."

"Me neither." Lois said.  "And I'd recognize most of the 
world's major uniform styles.  I just figured they were 
making up their own."

"But it was the same sort of uniform as Kal's friend was 
wearing."

"Yeah, I saw them come in together," Brenda reluctantly 
added.  "When I was waitressing earlier.  They sat at two 
tables, but they were all chummy.  So are you guys telling 
me that Sev and Zak are *aliens*?  That *Kal Lewis*, who's 
been a regular at the Metro Club for at least three years, 
is an alien?"

For a moment, Francine looked inexpressibly sad.  "I always 
liked Kal; he was a gentleman..." she murmured softly.

Lois squeezed her eyes shut.  Sometimes she hated logic, 
and it was far too late at night for world-altering 
revelations.  "Maybe," she replied, firmly postponing the 
debate for later.  "We don't know.  Although I don't know 
of anybody on Earth that could build or fly this ship."  
With an inner groan, she realized that she'd already 
accepted the premise that they were on a spaceship.  From 
here it was only a short step to the loony bin.  She 
couldn't quite decide whether that would be better or worse 
than aliens intruding on her reality.  "I guess we'll find 
out when they come back."

The thought chilled her.  If Melanie were at all correct, 
then this situation was more serious than she had thought.  
In a building in the West River district, it would be a 
relatively simple matter to overpower their captors and go 
blithely home.  On an enclosed craft, far, *far* from home, 
the situation was vastly more complicated.  

And how did Kal Lewis fit into this?  His intent scrutiny 
of her earlier began to take on a sinister interpretation.  
Had he sent those two...?  She hated to think so, 
irrationally sure he was above such tactics.  But there was 
no way to find the truth from here; she would have to wait 
until someone came to get them.

She kicked herself for ever letting them get into that 
alley.  She had thought she could protect them -- it was no 
less than her duty as an officer.  Well, she still would, 
as much as she could.  Spaceship or not, Lois Lane was not 
going to play by their rules any longer.  She watched her 
companions to see how they were handling themselves; they 
were silent at the moment but looked scared.  

"Well, there's one good thing," she made herself say, 
keeping her voice as steady as she could.

Brenda laughed, a half-hysterical giggle.  She clasped a 
hand over her mouth to contain the sound, but still looked 
on the edge.

"What's that, Lola -- I mean, Lois?" demanded Francine, 
wavering between anger and despair.

"Well, it's just, with all of us here..." Lois swallowed, 
hoping this would distract them.  "The Metro Club's not 
gonna have much of a floor show tomorrow."

Francine stared at her for a moment, then a corner of her 
mouth began to twitch.  "Yeah, Johnny's gonna have a tough 
time finding four or five new kids in half a day, isn't 
he?"

Brenda's eyes lost some of their wildness and began to 
dance.  "Hoo-boy, that boy is in trouble."

"Maybe he'll have to fill in, himself," Melanie suggested 
wickedly.

"He could use my chicken outfit," Lois suggested with a 
grin.  Apparently, the news of Johnny's demotion had been 
kept secret; Lois would tell them later, but right now they 
needed the comic relief.

"Oh, no, Lola!" Brenda corrected, "that white dress would 
be more his style."  In a gravelly voice, she imitated 
Johnny's accent and began singing "I've Got a Crush On 
You."  The other three laughed harder until Brenda was 
laughing with them, unable to keep singing.  If the 
laughter was a little on the shrill side, no one mentioned 
it, glad to have temporarily escaped the intolerable 
tension.

****

Kal sat in his command chair, watching the cloudy blue 
globe of Earth in a secondary monitor.  The planet was 
already far behind them, and he was never likely to see it 
again.  He should just put it out of his mind -- the 
mission, as Lt. Ching had so emphatically reminded him, was 
the important thing.

He was just as glad when Sev entered the control room, 
shuffling his feet apologetically at the intrusion.  After 
they had safely cleared the planet's airspace, Ching had 
set the ship to auto-pilot, and Kal had sent the three 
Kryptonians off to their rest period.  Kal had rested too, 
but as long as the advantages of his stay on Earth 
lingered, he found he didn't need much sleep.  "Yes, 
crewman?"

"Sir," Sev began, then paused, seeming uncertain of 
himself.  "Well, m'lord, I have a confession to make."

This sounded mildly interesting, and possibly alarming.  
"What sort of confession?"

"Well, m'lord, I know you gave us lists of supplies -- and 
we obtained everything on the lists -- but I thought ... 
well, for a long journey I thought we might need another 
sort of supplies.  For morale purposes."

Kal watched, intrigued by this stumbling explanation.  So 
Crewman Sev was showing initiative, was he?  That could be 
good, but it was more likely disastrous.  "So what did you 
do about this oversight?" he asked, keeping his voice 
neutral and sent out a tentative mental probe.  He was out 
of practice, of course, but he found himself emphatically 
blocked.  Either Sev had an excellent natural shield, or 
he'd had some training.

Sev looked up, seeming to gain confidence.  "I planned it 
all carefully, m'lord.  Took everything into account.  I 
wasn't sure I'd have a chance to manage it, but fortune 
favors the bold."

This was surely going to be disastrous, Kal mused, as the 
other man carefully talked around the subject.  "What did 
you do, Sev?"

Sev faltered at that level question, then looked sly.  
"Perhaps you'd best see for yourself, m'lord.  It's the 
secondary storage room."

Kal gave him a pained glance, but perhaps a first-hand look 
would be worth more than a thousand words.  He stood and 
passed Sev on his way out the corridor, leaving the crewman 
to the difficult task of leading the way while remaining 
the proscribed foot behind his commanding officer.

As they reached the section of wall where subtle markings 
betrayed a closed door, Kal stopped, turning with an ironic 
flourish to allow Sev first access to the opening.  Sev 
flushed and looked flustered, but stepped forward.  
Faintly, Kal thought he heard voices within the cargo hold.  
Had Sev brought televisions or something??  He'd have had a 
difficult time hooking them up to power, if so.

"We needed some recreation," Sev said, as if that explained 
everything, then opened the door.

It was only due to his enhanced senses that Kal could make 
sense of the ensuing chaos.  As soon as the door opened, a 
diminutive female figure appeared in the opening.  With 
deliberate movements, the woman swept a kick at Sev that 
brought the unsuspecting crewman to his knees.  From there, 
he was in easy reach of an overhand blow that crumpled him 
to the floor.  Before Kal could do more than gasp in 
startlement, he was face to face with the last person he 
ever expected to see again.  And she was now holding a 
pistol, aimed right at him.

"You!" he gasped, and heard her echo him a half-second 
later, her brown eyes going wide.  Her grasp of the pistol 
wavered for only a fraction of a second, however, he noted. 

"Brenda, tie this guy up," she ordered, kicking Sev 
lightly.  One of the other dancers then approached, 
makeshift rope in hand, and set to work none too gently.

"I am Lieutenant Lois Lane of the United States Army," his 
dancer announced crisply, "and you are in big trouble."

"You're in the army?" he asked.  He had heard that Earth 
allowed women into some of their military units.  He would 
not have guessed that his dancer was actually a soldier, 
but it certainly explained a lot.

She scowled at him.  "You have a problem with that?"

Kal gave her his best innocent shrug.  "Not at all.  Thank 
you, by the way."

Lois -- he savored the name in his mind; it was somehow 
much nicer than Lola -- narrowed her eyes in suspicious 
puzzlement.  "For what?"

"Showing Sev here the error of his ways."  As the shock of 
Lois's presence wore off, the enormity of Sev's crime was 
starting to make itself known, and Kal sobered.  "I must 
apologize to you -- to all of you," he added, peering 
around Lois to see who else was there.  Good God, Sev had 
grabbed the whole floor show, he realized; there were four 
of them altogether.  Sev must have been trying to be fair -
- four Kryptonians, four concubines, including the one Kal 
had been so openly admiring.  He flushed in shame.  If he 
had controlled his reactions, Sev might never have gone 
through with this horrible scheme.

"Forget the apology," Brenda grumbled.  "Just put us *back* 
and we're cool."

"Sev should never have treated you like this," Kal said 
slowly, "and we will take you back."  

"I don't want to go back," the youngest dancer announced, 
fixing Kal with an entreating stare.  He'd never spoken to 
her, but he was almost certain her name was Melanie.  "At 
least, not yet -- you're aliens, aren't you?  I mean, 
you're not from Earth, right?"

Kal stared at her as he frantically tried to calculate how 
much he could reveal without earning the Council's wrath.  
How much did they already know?  Perhaps he could still 
hide the full truth ... turning, he caught Lois's eye, held 
cold and steady above the pistol, and something within him 
rebelled at the thought of keeping any secrets.

"Yes, you will take us back," Lois said, waggling the 
pistol slightly for emphasis, her accelerated heart rate at 
odds with her calm appearance.  "So turn this spaceship of 
yours around right now, mister."

Very well then.  "You deserve the truth.  I am Lord Kal-El, 
of the house of El, of the planet New Krypton."  He bowed 
to all of them, enjoying the look of delight on Melanie's 
face.  Which stood in stark contrast to the hostility 
emanating in waves from Lois.  "And if you know it's a 
spaceship," he told her mildly, "you should realize it 
wouldn't be a good idea to fire that.  Projectile weapons 
and pressurized craft just don't mix."

She just smiled back.  "You're assuming I'd miss."

Assessing her familiarity with the weapon in her hand, Kal 
decided that it was far more likely that she'd hit him, 
especially at this short range.  The impact likely wouldn't 
hurt him, but with his luck, the bullet would ricochet, 
possibly hitting one of the women.  "Lois," he began, then 
at her raised eyebrow forced himself to use her stated 
rank, "Lieutenant.  I am not your enemy here.  Sev was 
acting against explicit orders, and he *will* be 
disciplined.  I give you my word that you will be returned 
to Metropolis in perfect health, unharassed.  However, 
we're in the middle of an urgent mission, and we simply 
cannot delay--"  

She was looking entirely unconvinced.  

"About a week ago," he explained rapidly, "the Lady Zara 
was kidnapped.  She's the last of the royal family, and if 
she is harmed, it's almost certain that our world will 
slide into civil war.  Besides, she and I -- " Kal 
hesitated, unwilling to mention marriage while looking into 
Lois's eyes.  "We are friends.  I don't want her to be 
hurt.  I have to go after her and get her back."  He ran 
out of words, and simply let her read the truth from his 
eyes, holding nothing back.

She stared at him for a moment, then rolled her eyes.  
"Okay, fine," she snapped, finally lowering the pistol.

"Fine?" protested the older blond dancer.  "Hey, I've got 
to get back to Earth before I lose my job!  Without that 
paycheck I lose my apartment, and my rent is due soon.  I 
don't have time for a joy ride around the galaxy!"

"Um, Kal?"  Turning, Kal saw that the younger dancer -- 
Melanie, he thought her name was -- was looking at him 
bashfully.  "You won't be too hard on Zak, will you?  I 
mean, he didn't really do much..."

"Melanie!" Brenda scolded, "Just because you think the boy 
is cute does *not* mean he gets off the hook, here!"

"Oh come on, it was obvious he had no idea what was going 
on."

"He knew enough to herd us into this room, Mel; how 
innocent could he be?  And quit your caterwauling, 
Francine; at least you've got a paycheck to go back to!"

"That's what you think -- Johnny's not gonna like being 
left high and dry like this."

"And the high heels will make his feet hurt, so he's bound 
to be pretty grumpy," Lois murmured, to Kal's complete 
confusion.  The others grinned at the comment.  "But 
actually ladies ... I was eavesdropping yesterday, and 
Toni's taken over the whole Metro Gang -- she escorted 
Johnny out under armed guard, and I don't think he was 
gonna be coming back."

That statement impressed the women into stunned silence for 
a moment.  Kal let himself smile.  Good for Toni.

"She was keeping it under wraps," Lois added at their 
questioning looks, "but you know he wasn't there last 
night."

"True enough," Brenda nodded.  "Hmm... I guess it doesn't 
make any difference to me now, but..."

"Serves the bastard right," Francine spat out, looking as 
if she'd bitten into something nasty.  "And forced out by 
his sister, too.  Hah.  Good for her."

"So, um, Kal..." Melanie approached him cautiously.  "Do we 
get a tour of your spaceship?"

**** 

"So explain this to me again," Lois said to Kal, taking 
advantage of a relatively quiet moment.  Kal had led them 
all on a tour of the ship, ending up in a room clearly 
designed for eating.  The furnishings were subtly different 
than the cafeterias Lois was familiar with, but the purpose 
was plain.  Kal had somehow produced food for everyone, 
then sat at one of the two tables.  Brenda, Francine, and 
Melanie had clustered at the other, speaking in low tones.  
Lois had seized the opportunity to approach him. 
Kal looked up.  "I thought you'd want to eat with your 
friends," he said carefully.

Lois took that as tacit permission and sat down across the 
table from him.  "I'm the ranking officer -- sort of -- and 
I wanted to clarify a few things.  Like, you say you're off 
to rescue a woman who's been kidnapped ... except you seem 
to be carrying along a few kidnapped women of your own."  
Despite her resolve to not antagonize him, a note of 
derision crept into her voice.  "Does this happen a lot on 
your planet?"

Kal winced.  "No, definitely not, and I apologize again.  
Sev was acting against direct orders--"

"What, you felt the need to tell him *not* to kidnap 
anyone?"

"I told him not to have contact with the locals," Kal 
explained, a touch of annoyance interfering with his 
apologetic tone.

"And obviously that worked real well," Lois commented 
acidly.  "For that matter, how do I know he wasn't 
following orders?  I saw the way you were looking at me."

Kal flushed, his eyes narrowing.  "Lieutenant, I apologize 
for the circumstances of your arrival on this ship.  And I 
admit I underestimated Sev's audacity, but I have never--"

Lois held up a hand to ward off his apology, her momentary 
doubt and anger fading, washed away by the hurt in Kal's 
eyes.  Nothing in his actions had earned him that 
accusation, and on some level she had known that.  "I'm 
sorry; I'm angry right now and I got carried away.  I know 
this wasn't your fault.  It's just that I'm supposed to be 
on my way to a beach right now."  She took a deep breath, 
calling on years of discipline to reign in her temper.  
This was not how she had planned to spend her leave time, 
but at least it was leave time.  If they got back to Earth 
quickly enough, she might yet avoid a court-martial for 
going AWOL.  

Kal took a deep breath as well, composing himself.  "Your 
irritation is understandable.  And I sincerely regret not 
being able to return you immediately, but that would delay 
us another day, possibly two, and I cannot be sure Lady 
Zara has that time to spare."

"What do you think her situation is, exactly?" Lois asked, 
forcing herself to concentrate on tactical analysis rather 
than spend any time wondering exactly how close Kal was to 
his 'friend' Zara.  Kal didn't strike her as the type to 
have platonic friendships with women, not after the way 
he'd been so intensely focused on her during her song.  Not 
that it mattered.  At all.  "Are they on another ship, a 
planet, what?"

He shrugged.  "We don't exactly know yet.  Nor took her 
away from New Krypton in his personal ship, but we don't 
know where they went.  He owns several installations that 
we can search."

"And how long will all this take?"

Kal hesitated.  "If we find her quickly, only a few days.  
If Nor is better hidden ..." He sighed.  "If it takes much 
longer, I will return you and your friends to Earth."

"You hate the idea of it taking that long, don't you?" Lois 
asked gently.  It was clear that he worried about his 
friend.

"I won't be satisfied until Zara is free and safe," he 
admitted, "but that doesn't justify further disrupting your 
lives.  This week, right now ... there's an urgency.  If we 
can find her quickly, she should be fine.  Lord Nor is an 
evil man, but in a lazy way, if you see what I mean.  He 
doesn't like to get his hands dirty; he prefers to 
manipulate and bully others into doing his bidding.  He 
must be hoping he can persuade Zara to marry him."

Lois blinked.  "Interesting method he's got."

Kal grinned briefly.  "It's a political thing.  New Krypton 
is a very formal society; you'd probably think us terribly 
constrained.  But for hundreds of years, we have maintained 
peace among us by maintaining certain traditions.  One of 
those is hereditary leadership."

Lois rolled her eyes.  "I've heard of that.  Whichever son 
is born first gets the crown, whether he's qualified or not 
... that's a recipe for disaster."

Kal smiled.  "We're not quite that unsophisticated.  The 
leadership passes from father to son-in-law.  Zara's father 
was First Lord of New Krypton, and whoever she marries will 
be, too.  It's her choice."

"That's nearly as bad," she informed him.  "What if she 
falls in love with a jerk?"

"Falls in love?" Kal asked, looking surprised.  "It is her 
duty to choose the best available ruler; she has been 
brought up knowing that responsibility.  Traditionally, her 
father would help her decide; unfortunately, he went to the 
stars about four years ago."

By the faint tinge of sadness around that last statement, 
Lois deduced that going to the stars was a polite term for 
death.  She brushed that aside, annoyed by the idea of 
political, loveless marriages.  It was beginning to look 
like New Krypton was a pretty cold society.  At least there 
was some concession to merit over birth.  Though perhaps 
not much.  "So Zara's had to, um, interview all the men on 
New Krypton?"

"Oh no," Kal replied easily.  "The noble class is not that 
large, unfortunately, so she's known most of us her entire 
life."

"Somehow I suspected that."  Not only a patriarchy, but an 
oligarchy, too.  She tried to remember instances in Earth 
history where oligarchies had been successful, but her 
memory failed her.  "And I'll just bet that Zara's not 
allowed to do the job herself, is she?"

Kal looked faintly scandalized by that idea, and Lois 
rolled her eyes.  "Sexist creeps."

Before she could launch into a diatribe about the evils of 
sexism, a motion in the corner of her eye distracted her; 
looking up, she saw that the mess hall door had opened.  
Kal's companion from the previous night was standing in the 
opening, staring tight-lipped and disapproving at the 
occupants.

Kal followed her gaze and startled guiltily.  "Lieutenant 
Ching," he greeted the man, then stood and switched over to 
another language to continue the conversation.

****

Ching had difficulty comprehending what he was seeing.  The 
mess hall was filled with colorful, chattering women.  
Accomp