Smallville Players III: The Final Curtain by Barbara Pillsbury Rated: PG-13 Submitted: June 2003 Smallville Players III: The Final Curtain is the third in an LnC elseworld series. (See Smallville Players - posted to the archives on July, 2002 and Smallville Players II: The Next Steps - posted to the archives on October, 2002) In this world Lois Lane and Clark Kent are teachers at Smallville High School, and are participants in the Smallville Players, a talented community theatre group directed by Martha Kent; where they met, fell in love and became engaged in 1993. As Smallville Players III begins in early 1994 and then returns to 1938 to span several decades, vacillating back and forth abruptly between the various years and between months within those years, as well as between several locations which highlight the lives of the characters that live there; I encourage the reader to pay very strict attention to the dates and places before each section. Hopefully this will be sufficient to enable the reader to navigate my jumbled mind. Interlaced within this story is, as usual, a number of scenes from a theatrical play; but also interspersed are radio announcements, music and drama. The use of a character's name--slash--Smallville name will allow the reader to envision the play within the play while ####### will set off the various radio broadcasts. The pieces of material used from various other mediums will be cited and credited at the end of the story. I urge the readers to read the end credits as it will be informative and acknowledges my indebtedness to these sources. As usual there are just so many people to thank: Erin, LabRat and Bethy who got me started, Tricia, Wendy, Karen, who kept me going, Carol, Meredith, Pam, and Saskia who made such wonderful suggestions and Cristina, Maria, Merry, Shells and Rose whose comments meant so much to me. But most of all my thanks goes out to Laswa, my incredible BR who has acted the part of my wonderful and insightful muse and to whom I dedicate this story. *************** Libby Barton took a gun And killed her family, everyone.... Smallville, Kansas Monday, February 14, 1994 8:20 p.m. CST Clark moved a lock of hair that had fallen over one of Lois' soft brown eyes, and gently placed it behind one ear. He gazed longingly at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She was so brilliant, so gifted, and so utterly incredible. He looked deep into those eyes, searching for the love reflected there. "...I...I can't wait that long. Where could we be married in a hurry--say tonight?" he said, as he reached out and lightly cupped his hand next to her cheek. He moved his thumb ever so slowly over her delicate cheekbone and leaned in to kiss her, as he had done so many, many times before. But this time it was completely different, this time they were.... "Stop!" Martha Kent's voice rang out from the third row of seats in the darkened auditorium of Smallville High School. Clark pulled back and turned toward the sound of the shrill voice. Lois took a couple of steps back and folded her arms across her chest, a gesture closing him out- -a gesture Clark had become all too used to this past week. "What's wrong with you two?" Martha asked coming quickly up the steps to the stage. "You're supposed to be in love with each other! You're supposed to be engaged to be married," she explained, excitedly waving the script of `Arsenic and Old Lace' at both of them. Clark looked down at his feet, while Lois couldn't even meet Martha's gaze. "Clark," his mother continued. "Try to focus. You're Mortimer Brewster, a very brash young critic for the Metropolis Star. It's 1938 and you're here, standing in the living room of your aunt's home, kissing the love of your life, your fianc‚e. You're trying to convince her to make it a very short engagement. She's somewhat apprehensive and you're reassuring her by showing just how much you love her," she directed. "Lois," she went on, turning toward the woman, whom she had furtively hoped would one day be her daughter. "You're acting the part of Elaine Harper, Mortimer's fianc‚e. And, although the daughter of a minister, you're extremely passionate; and most of all, you're wildly in love with Mortimer Brewster." Martha looked back and forth at both of them and sighed. "I just don't see it, and I definitely don't feel it." Painfully, she gazed down at where the engagement ring was now missing from Lois' hand. "Clark, Lois," Martha said gently. "Let's forget the play for a minute. Can't we please just talk about what's really going on with the two of you?" Clark glanced up at Lois. He didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't even sure if he could continue with this pretence. Of course he was just rehearsing a play and he was supposed to be acting a part; and he, Clark Kent, *did* love Lois Lane; but Lois no longer loved him--she was in love with another man and it was his fault. "Clark?" his mother asked? Clark turned on his heels and resolutely walked off the stage. *********** *********** Metropolis, New Troy Monday, February 14, 1994 11:30 p.m. EST Richard Thurston picked up the phone in his hotel suite and dialed her number. As soon as he heard her voice, he smiled. "Lois, darling," he said. "I wanted to call you and ask if you received the flowers I sent today, to wish you a happy Valentines Day, and to tell you that I love you." Lois Lane looked over at the two dozen long stemmed red roses, fanned out amidst several sprays of baby's breath, which resided gracefully in a crystal vase that now adorned her dining room table. She took a very deep breath, and calming her shaking voice, she answered. "Yes Richard, they're lovely. And when will you be back in Smallville?" "I'm so sorry, dear, that I had to return to Metropolis for some business; but I should be home soon. I miss you." "I miss you, too," Lois echoed numbly. "Til' then, love," he said softly, and hung up the phone. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Monday, February 14, 1994 10:35 p.m. CST As Lois put down the receiver, a tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped at the teardrop and tried to gain solace from the framed quotations hanging on her wall-- quotations by Thoreau, her favorite author. `The only remedy for love is to love more' she read. Yeah, right! She turned on her heels and walked deliberately over to the coffee table and picked up the glass case that held the beautiful quartz rock from Brazil, a piece of quartz that Clark had given to her four months before. Well actually it was Superman who had given it to her, and then Clark had finished the engraving on the pink stone, letting her know he was Superman and that they, uh...he loved her. Clark *had* loved her. But he loved her no longer. Lois thought of that evening's rehearsal and how Clark couldn't even *act* as if he loved her. Anger welled up inside of her, and she threw the case holding the precious stone onto the floor, where the glass shattered. "No!" she yelled, and sank down onto the floor to pick up the pieces to try to...to what? Put it back? Back together again? Could she ever put what she and Clark had had, back together again? Could they ever re-ignite the love that they had once shared? One of the shards pierced her finger and several droplets of blood fell, bringing her back to face reality. She glanced at her cut finger; and turning her hand over, rubbed the vacant spot where her engagement ring used to reside. The pain resulting from the cut finger was infinitesimal when compared to the pain she was feeling because of Clark shutting her out of his life. She put her finger in her mouth and closed her eyes to try to stop the tears that were welling up inside her once again. Clark didn't love her any more. He didn't want her any more. Once again, she was all alone. Alone! For years she had believed being alone to be a good thing--to be on her own, independent, beholden to no one but herself. Yet over the past few months, she had learned how wonderful love could be. Lois Lane, self-reliant, autonomous career woman--had felt how a nurturing and warm relationship could enfold her--keep her close, keep her safe. She could still feel Clark's arms around her, his lips on hers--their desire moving them closer and closer to...but no! She wouldn't let her mind go there. There *was* no Clark! There was only Lois, alone again to face the world. No, there was Richard. *********** *********** Metropolis, New Troy Monday, February 14, 1994 11:40 p.m. EST Richard hung up and walked away from the phone toward his hotel bedroom, but stopped abruptly as he passed a gold- framed mirror hanging in the suite. He turned and regarded himself. He stroked his goatee and then adjusted the green paisley ascot he was wearing beneath his robe. He smiled at what he saw reflected there. Then his smile gradually changed to a more sadistic grin, the eyes a more powerful hue. The man in the mirror now appeared more familiar, closer to the face that once had been, the face prior to the plastic surgery--the face of Lex Luthor. The face that had "died" two months before. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Saturday, November 12, 1993 9:25 p.m. CST The Smallville Players were moving methodically and dramatically toward the climax of their dinner theatre presentation. Suddenly, there was a blackout and all the stage lights went off, plunging the entire room into abject darkness. The lights came back on, and as everyone's eyes adjusted to the brightness; they could see Lex Luthor lying dead in a pool of blood with Clark's hand on the play's dagger that protruded from his back. "Nobody move," a voice yelled out from the crowd, and a man unknown to most of those in the room, rose and crossed over to Clark and the lifeless body of Lex Luthor. The man drew a gun from a shoulder holster and pointed it at Clark. "Now, slowly with your hands in full view, move away from the body," he said firmly. Inspector Henderson, with his drawn gun still on Clark, leaned down and with his other hand, felt Luthor's neck for a pulse; although it was obvious to all that Lex Luthor was dead. "I...I...didn't do this," Clark insisted, backing away with his arms raised. "Of course he didn't," Lois injected forcefully, jumping down from the makeshift stage to join Clark at his side. "He's Su...uh...not capable of doing such a thing!" Henderson paced up and down before the group gathered in front of him. "Lex Luthor was a depraved, degenerate and corrupt man.... He was responsible for the death of his own wife," the detective said looking at them. "Not only his wife, but Henry Brady, and Matthew Drake as well, not to mention his complicity in the misdiagnosis of Lois Lane and the scurrilous attack on Vivian Cox. So as Rachett in the play we have just witnessed, Luthor directly damaged five lives and hurt an additional dozen lives." "So did they all do it together? Just like the play," Sheriff Rachel Harris asked. "Is that it?" "Or is that what the perpetrator wanted us to think?" the Metropolis detective asked somewhat rhetorically. "Why not make it appear that the murder is life, imitating art. Why not *make* it look like a conspiracy, which would then shift the focus away from the real killer?" Detective Henderson pulled up a chair and straddled it eyeing all of them. "Look everyone," he began. "I'm not Hercule Poirot and I'm not Superman, and believe me, in this instance I don't even want to be a homicide detective. You are all decent people who have been abused in one way or another by a particularly evil man. But unlike Hercule Poirot in your play tonight, the police cannot come up with an easy solution that allows the revenge, deserved or not, to go unpunished. We cannot allow someone to take the law into their own hands, and so the murderer must pay," he said standing up. "Rachel," Detective Henderson said firmly. "Please arrest....Bill Saxon for the murder of Lex Luthor." Just then, the double doors to the banquet room opened and two men pushed a gurney into the room. Rachel Harris pointed out the body to the Coroner's assistants. Entering behind them was Smallville's new Coroner who had only been on the job about two weeks. The attractive thirty- something-aged woman came up to Rachel Harris. "You must be Sheriff Harris," the Coroner stated efficiently. "I'm here to take charge of the body." She leaned over and pulled the tablecloth down and made a cursory examination. She then signaled the two men to place the body on the gurney and remove it to the Coroner's wagon. "I will begin the autopsy tomorrow morning," the new Coroner informed Rachel. "If you need anything just call me. Here is my card," she said following the gurney out. Rachel stared at the card. It read Dr. Gretchen Kelly. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Saturday, January 8, 1994 10:00 a.m. CST Lois and Clark snuggled together on the overstuffed couch that Martha Kent had in her bookstore. Clark smiled at his fianc‚e and took Lois' hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. Lois smiled back at him and moved her hand to stroke the handsome face of her future husband. "It's funny about this thing," Lois said admiring the ring on her finger. "When I look down at it every day, I'm almost surprised to see it there. I think about it, and it what it means, and about you." Clark glanced down at the ring and then looked deeply into Lois' eyes. "We've been through a lot," Lois acknowledged. "An awful lot," he agreed. "But we're together now," Lois said, snuggling even closer, and will always be..." Clark leaned in and gently captured Lois' lips in a brief kiss. "Don't let me interrupt," Martha said smiling, as she brought them both a cup of coffee. "No....No, Mom," he said, blushing just a little and then promptly returning his gaze to look lovingly at Lois, who seductively watched him from under her lashes. "It's okay," Clark told his mother, not taking his eyes off Lois as Martha sunk into the chair opposite them. "So, have you two decided on the date for the wedding?" Martha asked. "We know it's corny, but since it's Kansas, how about June?" Lois said to both of them. "That's what we were talking about before...before Lex." "Let's not talk about Luthor," Clark said. He's dead and buried. The bell above the door to the Cabbages and Kings Bookstore tinkled. Martha looked up to see Miss Barton, carrying her usual shopping bag, enter and head directly for the used and rare book section toward the back of the store. Miss Libby Barton was a regular customer who came into the store one to two times a month to purchase books. The elderly patron walked up one aisle and then down the next one. She browsed through several books and then with her selections clasped close to her, came forward to the cash register. "How are you today, Miss Libby?" Martha asked, rising to meet her at the counter. Libby Barton was about to say something when the bell over the door tinkled again and an exuberant Keith Haley burst through. "I'll distribute these, Mrs. Kent," the young high-school student told her, grabbing a handful of posters from the counter and running out the door. "How much?" the customer asked, without responding to Martha's question as she put the three books down on the counter. "Thirty-one seventeen with tax," Martha explained, taking the stickers off the old books. The older woman opened her small change purse she had extracted from her large shopping bag, and after a few moments, put the exact amount, most of it in small change, on the counter and turned to walk out. As she did, she stopped to investigate a large, colorful poster in the window of the bookstore. Miss Libby took out a piece of paper and a pencil and jotted down some information and then exited the store. "Well, I'll be," Martha said, turning to Lois and Clark. "Who would have thought *she* would be interested?" Martha Kent looked at the stickers still in her hand and shook her head. She placed the large colored labels on the spindle next to the cash register and made a note to herself to consider getting replacement copies of the just purchased books, `House of the Seven Gables', `Miss Lizzie: A retelling of the Borden Ax Murders and Mary Shelly's `Frankenstein'. *********** *********** Butler County, Kansas Saturday, January 8, 1994 1:30 p.m. CST In an old silo south of Smallville--a silo heated by a long bank of electric radiators, several rats ran along the edge of a shelf, picking up and nibbling small kernels of corn. Their squeaks intermingled with the sounds of steam emanating from a large glass enclosed vat. "Well? What is his status, Gretchen?" Nigel St. John asked off-handedly. "His vital signs are fluctuating wildly," Dr. Kelly responded, as she checked several dials on a large machine attached to the vat. Nigel examined the silo, shivered slightly and brushed perfunctorily at his suede jacket. "I certainly hope I haven't made the trip here for nothing," he said frowning. "You were one of Lex's chief supporters in this community," Gretchen informed him. "Your concern is overwhelming," she said sarcastically. "Mr. Luthor didn't invite my participation on the school board for my congeniality." An almost imperceptible change in the level of beeping caught Gretchen's attention before she could have snapped back an answer to the tall callous man. She walked over to the machine and once again fiddled with the dials. "What are you doing?" Nigel asked her. "I've got to stabilize his electromagnetic field," she explained worriedly. "Otherwise we're going to lose him!" Abruptly, bubbling sounds from the vat increased, as did a variety of electronic noises from several instruments, the loudest of all--an erratic beeping from the heart monitor. Intermittent hissing sounds ensued as jets of steam erupted from the vat. The electronic devices peaked, subdued, peaked again and then faltered, coming to a complete stop. Gretchen Kelly and Nigel St. John turned to stare at the heart monitor as the spiked waves, displaying ongoing life signs, beeped irregularly and then flat lined. "No!" Gretchen shouted. "Lex?" "It's over, Gretchen," Nigel told her emotionlessly. "Oh no!" she cried, somewhat softly, as if resigned to the inevitability of her failed attempt. "It was a noble experiment," Nigel informed her, putting his hand firmly on her shoulder. Gretchen glanced over at the table toward a small red-bound leather book with the initials LB embossed on it and closed her eyes. It had been folly to believe that...that.... Suddenly an arm burst through the glass that had been enclosing the vat. It slowly twisted and contorted into a fist. "Lex," gasped Gretchen. The appendage stretched out, grabbed hold of the side of the vat and lifted the lid. Lex Luthor covered, in what could best be described as a kind of amniotic fluid, sat up, reborn. "Lex," Gretchen said again with renewed assurance, stepping toward him as she realized that he had come back--come back to her. "I...I can't believe it," Nigel uttered, uncharacteristically at a loss. Lex Luthor's face distorted into an evil and vindictive visage. "Believe it!" Nigel backed away from the vat and reached out toward the table to steady himself. The small red leather book fell to the floor. The steam from the vat gusted out once again, flipping the pages of the small bound volume until it rested on a page where the shaky scrawl was barely discernable. Sunday October 30, 1938 7:28 p.m. Success!!! Resurrection achieved!!! LB *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:00 p.m. CST The house at 417 Maple Street creaked and groaned loudly as the wind, with which Kansans were only too familiar, played havoc with the fifty-year-old home. Several cracked and peeling shutters banged back and forth against the faded yellow wooden structure, and occasionally, strange sounds emanated from the attic. Libby Barton, aged twelve, dressed in a blue gingham dress and white pinafore, was curled up on the large sofa with Jinx, a predominantly black cat save for a white spot on her left chest. Libby looked impatiently toward the stairs. "Aunt Lavin--i- -a," she called out. "It's seven o-clock." Lavinia Barton, a spinster in her late 50s, wearing a black cotton dress that was twenty-five years outdated, waddled down the stairs. Miss Barton was a short, plump woman, and waddling was the only way to describe how she got around. Lavinia pushed back a lock of her gray streaked hair and readjusted the pin that secured the straggling piece to the bun she always wore. "I'm coming," she called out, continuing to waddle down the stairs. "I was checking the attic door. The wind sometimes...." "The attic door is just fine," said a sharp voice coming from the kitchen. Lavinia's slightly younger sister, Leticia Barton entered the living room just as Lavinia arrived from upstairs. Although she was the younger of the two, everyone in town, and particularly in that house on Maple Street, knew which of the sisters ruled the roost. "What's going on?" Leticia barked, as she eyed her sister and niece. Although a spinster, exactly like her elder sister, all else was unique unto Leticia. She was tall and thin, and moved around the large Victorian house in a sedate manner. She wore her hair in a chignon tied at the back with a velvet ribbon, which matched the ribbon holding the cameo she always wore tightly around her neck. Her dress, though dated around the same period as her sister's, was pale pink in color. Leticia always wore pastels, while Lavinia was true to black. The townspeople believed that Miss Lavinia was in mourning, but no one knew for whom. "The Mercury Theatre!" Libby exclaimed. "We can't miss that. Last month they did `Sherlock Holmes' and last week, Jules Verne's `Around the World in Eighty Days'." "Well, young lady," Leticia scoffed, meticulously wiping her hands on the apron she wore. "Mr. Orson Welles has always been a bit over dramatic for me." "Oh, Aunt Letty, please!" Libby whined. "Please, Letty," her sister echoed. "All right," Leticia acquiesced. "But I just don't see what you two like about that program." Libby jumped up and ran over to the large Philco radio that held a prominent position in their living room. It was the only piece of furniture that allowed a visitor to note that it must be the 1930s; as all the other pieces, drapery, wallpaper and decorations were turn of the century. Libby turned on the radio and adjusted the knob. After some static and a slight squeal, an announcer's voice boomed out. Lavinia encouraged Leticia to join her on the sofa; and while Lavinia expectantly awaited the beginning of the program, Leticia reached over and took up her needlepoint. ########### ANNOUNCER: . . .for the next twenty-four hours not much change in temperature. A slight atmospheric disturbance of undetermined origin is reported over Nova Scotia, causing a low-pressure area to move down rather rapidly over the northeastern states, bringing a forecast of rain, accompanied by winds of light gale force. ########### Outside the house on Smallville's Maple Street, the wind continued to whip through the trees whose leaves had, days before, deserted their limbs. Libby walked over to the window and, hopping up on the window seat, looked out, and then turned to stare at the old Grandfather Clock in the hallway. "Aunt Lavinia, I don't understand," the youngest member of the Barton household said. "It's after seven o'clock. What happened to the Mercury Theatre?" ########### ANNOUNCER: ...Maximum temperature 66; minimum 48. This weather report is coming to you from the Government Weather Bureau. . . . We now take you to the Meridian Room in the Hotel Park Plaza in beautiful downtown Metropolis, where you will be entertained by the romantic music of Ram˘n Raquello and his orchestra. ########### A melodic Latin tango issued forth from the radio. "Humpf," Leticia sounded out. "Well, I've got much more important things to do," she explained. "I've more elderberry preserves to put up," she informed them as she put aside her needlepoint and sauntered back to the kitchen. "This is really strange," Lavinia said to her niece. "For some reason they've changed programs. We can turn it off," she said, rising and walked toward the radio. "No, Aunt Lavinia. I like this music," Libby said, as she extended her arms and started to dance around the Barton's living room. "I have a big secret, Aunt Lavinia. A very, very big secret," she said dramatically. "Someday I'm going to be a great actress just like on the radio." *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Saturday, January 8, 1994 8:10 p.m. CST The radio played a soft tango, candles lit the room and two people, obviously very much in love, were enjoying each other's company. "Hmmmmm," Lois murmured. "The chocolate mousse was practically obscene," she said smiling at Clark. "Maybe I intended it as foreplay," he explained, his eyes full of desire. "Clark, we..." "You're right," he sighed. "But it's not going to be easy." Clark stood up, leaned down to kiss her gently and then began to clear the dishes off the table. "I'll never be able to compete with your cooking," Lois said glumly, changing the subject, as she rose to add some additional dishes to the stack Clark was starting by the sink. Clark gently put his hands on her waist and turned her toward him. "I'll do the cooking," he said. "You have talent in other areas," he informed her and captured her mouth in a kiss. Their kiss began softly enough, but soon their passion deepened the kiss, as they moved together toward the couch. Clark pulled back to gaze into her eyes and Lois groaned, wanting the kiss not to end. "June, huh?" Clark asked, his eyes hungrily regarding her. "I don't think I can wait that long. How about we fly off and get married tonight?" "I want you so much," Lois said, looking into his eyes. "But..." "Yeah, I know," Clark told her, glancing over at the radio. "Come on. Come dance with me." Lois slipped back into Clark's arms. It felt so right, so.... ########### KSML ANNOUNCER: This breaking news just in. Kansas State Penitentiary in Topeka is the site of a massive prisoner riot. The convicts have taken several hostages, among them the warden. And, it has been reported to this station that several gunshots have been fired. ########### Clark pulled back and Lois reached up to touch his cheek. "Go," she said. He darted out the front door and Lois heard the all too familiar whoosh. She sat down on the couch and reached for her copy of "Arsenic and Old Lace". She might as well finish reading it and study a couple of scenes to prepare for the auditions coming up. She opened the script. Elaine: What's going on in this house? Mortimer: [Suspiciously.] What do you mean--what's going on in this house? Elaine: You were supposed to take me to dinner and the theatre tonight--you called it off. You asked me to marry you--I said I would--and five minutes later you threw me out of the house. Tonight, just after your brother tries to strangle me, you want to chase me home. Now, listen, Mr. Brewster--before I go home, I want to know where I stand. Do you love me? Mortimer: [Taking her hands.] I love you very much, Elaine. Lois smiled to herself thinking how those words sounded coming from Clark's wonderful mouth--his smile, his lips, his.... she thought. "Now where was I," she said aloud. "Oh yeah." Mortimer: [Taking her hands.] I love you very much, Elaine. In fact I love you so much I can't marry you. Elaine: Have you suddenly gone crazy? Mortimer: I don't think so but it's just a matter of time. [They both sit on the sofa as Mortimer begins to explain.] You see, insanity runs in my family. [He looks upstairs and toward the kitchen.] It practically gallops. That's why I can't marry you, dear. Elaine: Now wait a minute, you've got to do better than that. Mortimer: No, dear--there's a strange taint in the Brewster blood. If you really knew my family it's--well--its.... Elaine: Now just because Teddy is a little..... Mortimer: No, the whole family... [He rises and points to a picture of Grandfather over the sideboard.] Take my grandfather--he tried his patent medicines out on dead people to be sure he wouldn't kill them. Elaine: He wasn't so crazy. He made a million dollars. Mortimer: And then there's Jonathan. You just said he was a maniac--he tried to kill you. Elaine: [Rises, crosses to him.] But he's your brother, not you. I'm in love with you. Lois grinned. A chance to say how much she loved Clark in front of an audience, how wonderful. She continued reading. Mortimer: And there's Teddy, too. You know Teddy. He thinks he's Roosevelt. No, dear, no Brewster should marry. I realize now that if I'd met my father in time I'd have stopped him. Elaine: Now, darling, all this doesn't prove *you're* crazy. Look at your aunts-- they're Brewsters, aren't they? --And the sanest, sweetest people I've ever known. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:04 p.m. CST Lavinia perched on edge of the St. Anne's chair, which occupied a place next to the radio, and watched her lovely young niece dance over to the sofa and pick up Jinx and then continue to "tango" around the living room. Libby was such a beautiful child, Lavinia thought, as she noticed Libby's natural grace. So much like her mother, Lavinia recollected. Libby's mother, Lenore, was the youngest of the five children of Laslo and Lillian Barton, the founders of what now appeared to be a very short dynasty unless Libby had children one day. Laslo had come to the United States when he was a young child. The Bartas, who had emigrated from Hungary in the 1870s and had Americanized their name to Barton, had made their living peddling snake oil and odd potions. Laslo had grown up learning about strange mixtures and concoctions, and had eventually become a scientist of some note. He met Lillian Langworthy in 1880 and they were married. Laslo and Lillian had five children, Lavinia, Leticia, Lloyd, Linus and Lenore. Lillian Barton had taken to her bed after the birth of her fourth child, Linus, in 1894. As a result, Leticia, then the exact age that Libby was now, became the mother of the household. Lavinia knew she was the one that ought to have taken on that duty, as the eldest; but she had always been a frightened, dependent child--never one to take charge of anything. Lavinia realized that giving up this role to Leticia, marked the beginning of her younger sister's domination; but Lavinia understood that that was just the way things had to be, especially when it became obvious that Linus would never develop mentally above that of a seven-year-old. The interruption in the music put a temporary end to Lavinia's musings. ########### ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. At twenty minutes before seven, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory in Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving towards the earth with enormous velocity. Professor Pierson of the Observatory at Princeton confirms Farrell's observation, and describes the phenomenon as and I quote: like a jet of blue flame shot from a gun. We now return you to the music of Ram˘n Raquello, playing for you in the Meridian Room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in our beautiful downtown Metropolis. ########### Lavinia and Libby looked at each other briefly, but then Libby returned to her dancing, and Lavinia found herself thinking back once again. Lavinia's mother remained confined to her bed for fifteen years following the birth of her second son, while Laslo Barton plied her with a variety of medicinal brews. Laslo's devotion to his wife, and his need to try to help her, pushed him toward experimenting into unknown territory. Strange odors and late night incantations became the norm at the Barton household. The women of the town shook their heads when discussing the goings on behind the door at 417 Maple Street. The family members no longer attended church, sent servants to do the shopping and had no intercourse with the community. The town and even the second generation of the family, had found it odd, then, that Lillian Barton who had been near death for these fifteen years, had wound up pregnant in her forty-sixth year of life. After an incredibly difficult confinement, Lillian died giving birth to Lenore. The addition of a baby to the Barton family unit in 1910, generated new gossip around the town, but even the perpetual tongue-waggers, let the rumors surrounding the fifth Barton child's birth, eventually subside. Such gossip, however, was not new to the Barton household, which had always provided fodder for the town's biddies. Leticia and Lavinia had remained spinsters to care for their mother and their retarded brother. Lloyd Barton had stayed at his father's knee, learning science and experimenting on a variety of animals. He had later gone off to Europe to study and showed up in Smallville unexpectedly from time to time. As the years passed, the family's resources began to dwindle; and, although there were sufficient funds to make do, the extras had to go. Eventually the servants were discharged, and the house on Maple Street started to appear a little shabby. Lloyd's room was occasionally rented out by the Bartons to, usually, a single elderly man; but the boarder never stayed for long. And then in 1926, at age sixteen, Lenore Barton became the most infamous of the entire family, when it was discovered that she was pregnant. As the family had been isolated, the identity of the father was debated among all the inhabitants of the town. Rape and incest were the words whispered behind the closed doors of the citizens of Smallville. Laslo Barton delivered Lenore's baby on a dark and stormy night in March. And like her mother before her, Lenore died in childbirth. The patriarch of the Barton family took to his bed, and followed his daughter in death a few months later. Lavinia regarded the lovely child and knew that Libby had brought joy into their house and no matter what the origin of her birth, she meant everything to the remaining members of the Barton family. The music played for a few moments and as the piece ended, there was a sound of applause. ########### ANNOUNCER THREE: Now a tune that never loses favor, the ever- popular "Star Dust" by Hoagy Carmichael. Now once again, the romantic resonance of Ram˘n Raquello and his orchestra . . . ########### The music began but was shortly interrupted once again. ########### ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, we have arranged an interview with noted astronomer, Professor Pierson, who will give us his views of the event on Mars. In a few moments we will take you to the Observatory at Princeton, New Jersey. We return you until then to the music of Ram˘n Raquello and his orchestra. ########### The music began once again and Libby turned to her Aunt. "Is something happening?" "I'm not sure," Lavinia told her, pulling her down to sit on the couch as the radio continued on. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Saturday, January 8, 1994 8:30 p.m. CST Miss Libby Barton adjusted the volume and sat down on the couch as the radio continued on. ########### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML bringing you an update on the prison riot at Kansas State Penitentiary. Thankfully, Superman has arrived and quickly quashed the uprising. Warden, Gary Young, who has been released unscathed announced that... ########### Libby turned and walked over to the window seat under the bay window at the south side of the living room. She lifted up the hinged top and rummaged through the odds and ends stored there. ########### KSML ANNOUNCER: Although the perpetrators have been sequestered, this station has discovered that the riot claimed two victims--a guard and a prisoner. ########### Libby took a deep breath, as she found what she had been searching for. She lifted up the box and opened it slowly. The round object vibrated and changed colors. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:07 p.m. CST "Mars?", Libby asked her aunt. "Could people from Mars be coming here?" ########### ANNOUNCER TWO: We are now ready to take you to the Princeton Observatory where Carl Phillips, our commentator, will interview Professor Robert Pierson, famous astronomer. We take you now to Princeton, New Jersey. PHILLIPS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Carl Phillips, speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton. I am standing in a large semi- circular room, pitch black except for an oblong split in the ceiling. Through this opening I can see a sprinkling of stars that cast a kind of frosty glow over the intricate mechanism of the huge telescope. The ticking sound that you hear is the vibration of the clockwork. Professor Pierson stands directly above me on a small platform, peering through a giant lens. I ask you to be patient, ladies and gentlemen, during any delay that may arise during our interview. Besides his ceaseless watch of the heavens, Professor Pierson may be interrupted by telephone or other communications. During this period he is in constant touch with the astronomical centers of the world . . . Professor, may I begin our questions? PIERSON: At any time, Mr. Phillips. PHILLIPS: Professor, would you please tell our radio audience exactly what you see as you observe the planet Mars through your telescope? PIERSON: Nothing unusual at the moment, Mr. Phillips. A red disk swimming in a blue sea. Transverse stripes across the disk. Quite distinct now because Mars happens to be at the point nearest the earth . . . in opposition, as we call it. PHILLIPS: In your opinion, what do these transverse stripes signify, Professor Pierson? PIERSON: Not canals, I can assure you, Mr. Phillips, although that's the popular conjecture of those who imagine Mars to be inhabited. From a scientific viewpoint the stripes are merely the result of atmospheric conditions peculiar to the planet. PHILLIPS: Then you're quite convinced as a scientist that living intelligence as we know it does not exist on Mars? PIERSON: I'd say the chances against it are a thousand to one. PHILLIPS: And yet how do you account for those gas eruptions occurring on the surface of the planet at regular intervals? PIERSON: Mr. Phillips, I cannot account for it. PHILLIPS: By the way, Professor, for the benefit of our listeners, how far is Mars from earth? PIERSON: Approximately forty million miles. PHILLIPS: Well, that seems a safe enough distance. ########### "You see, Libby," her aunt encouraged. "There's really nothing to worry about." ########### PHILLIPS: Just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, someone has just handed Professor Pierson a message. Professor, may I read the message to the listening audience? PIERSON: Certainly, Mr. Phillips PHILLIPS: The message reads: `8:15 P. M. eastern standard time: Seismograph registered shock of almost earthquake intensity occurring within a radius of twenty miles of Princeton. Please investigate. . . .' Professor Pierson, could this occurrence possibly have something to do with the disturbances observed on the planet Mars? PIERSON: Hardly, Mr. Phillips. This is probably a meteorite of unusual size and its arrival at this particular time is merely a coincidence. However, we shall conduct a search, as soon as daylight permits. PHILLIPS: Thank you, Professor. Ladies and gentlemen, for the past ten minutes we've been speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton, bringing you a special interview with Professor Pierson, noted astronomer. This is Carl Phillips speaking. We are returning you now to our Metropolis studio. ########### The music began permeating through the living room again. Libby turned questioningly to her Aunt. "A meteorite?" she asked the older woman. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Tuesday, May 17, 1966 9:17 p.m. CDT For just a brief moment the spring's night sky lit up as if it were daylight. Martha and Jonathan Kent, driving home from a town meeting; gazed up at the sky in wonder. Jonathan pulled the pick-up truck to the side of the road. "What was that?" he asked his wife. "It looked like a meteor--somewhere over there, in Shuster's field," Martha replied. They both got out of the truck and quickly, yet carefully, they made their way through the field over to where the fiery object had plummeted to earth. Unbeknownst to them, a figure clad in red and blue, secreted himself behind a tree while watching the couple open what appeared to be a space ship of some sort, and take into their arms an infant--an infant that was to become the center of their lives and a hero to the whole world. The figure from the future smiled, knowing that all was the way it should be; and he immediately took to the sky. Behind a tree on the other side of the field, yet another spectator was watching the melodrama unfold. Miss Libby Barton, now forty years of age regarded the scene spread out in front of her. "Not again," she whispered, searching the sky expectantly. "Not again." *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:11 p.m. CST "Aunt Lavinia!" Libby insisted. "Please tell me what's going on!" Lavinia Barton, being totally unacquainted with anything at all scientific, was about to open her mouth and protest that she didn't understand what was going on, when the two in the living room heard the front door open and then slam shut. Linus Barton, the younger brother of Lavinia and Leticia slowly entered the family home. He was dragging a large shovel and was covered from head to foot with dirt. "Don't you get any of that dirt on my carpet!" Leticia called out as she entered the hallway from the kitchen. "No, Letty," Linus said slowly. "I was just doing what you told me to do. I dug them holes in the cellar and I..." "Yes, yes," Letty interrupted briskly. "Just you take yourself out and come in again the back way. Then go wash up." "Yes, Letty," Linus replied, nodding. "Uncle Linus," Libby yelled out. "Do you know anything about meteorites?" "Huh?" "Stop child," Leticia said to her niece. "Leave the man be. You'll have to ask your Uncle Lloyd. He's the science expert." "But Aunt Leticia," Libby implored. "Uncle Lloyd has been gone for over a year, and you said he was going away for a long, long time this time. And the man on the radio said..." "Hush! Your Uncle Lloyd is...." The music on the radio stopped once again and the announcer's harried voice was heard once more as it interrupted Leticia's comments. ########### ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, here is the latest bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. Toronto, Canada: Professor Morse of McGill University reports observing a total of three explosions on the planet Mars, between the hours of 6:45 P. M. and 8:20 P. M., eastern standard time. This confirms earlier reports that were received from American observatories. Now, nearer home, comes a special bulletin from Trenton, New Jersey. It is reported that at 8:10 P. M. a huge, flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grover's Mill, New Jersey, twenty miles from Trenton. ########### "Well that's New Jersey for you," Leticia retorted. "We have no business being concerned. Now turn it off and just forget it." But Libby moved closer to the radio as the announcer continued. ########### ANNOUNCER TWO: The flash in the sky was visible within a radius of several hundred miles and the noise of the impact was heard as far north as Elizabeth, New Jersey. We have dispatched a special mobile unit to the scene, and will have our commentator, Carl Phillips, give you a word picture as soon as he can reach there from Princeton. In the meantime, we take you to the Hotel Martinet in Metropolis, where the mellow sounds of Bobby Millette and his orchestra are offering a program of dance music. ########### Swing music filtered its way through the radio into the living room of 417 Maple. Libby guessed that there must be nothing to worry about, since the radio started to play music again. She picked up Jinx who had started mewing, and headed toward the kitchen to get the cat something to eat. The kitchen was warm, and the aroma wafting throughout was enticing. Aunt Leticia was making her elderberry and raspberry preserves. "Hmmmmm. Smells good," Libby said to her aunt. The back door opened, and Jinx hissed and jumped out of Libby's arms. "It's just Uncle Linus," Libby told the cat. "Not at all." said a sadistic voice. "It's your Uncle Lloyd!" Lavinia scurried into the kitchen just in time to see what sort of resembled her brother Lloyd, brandishing a rifle. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Monday, January 10, 1994 2:00 p.m. CST Lois Lane, English teacher, turned away from the black board and faced her American Literature Class. "Welcome back," she said smiling. "I certainly hope you all had a great holiday. I know that I did," Lois told them. She, indeed, had had a completely wonderful holiday. She glanced longingly at the ring on her finger and sighed. Lois Lane, independent career woman, activist, was now engaged to be married to the most wonderful man in the world. Somehow sensing his presence, she looked over at the door to her classroom as Clark Kent, history teacher and secret superhero walked by. Clark Kent stopped and glanced through the glass window situated in the middle of the door to his fianc‚e's classroom and saw her look up and smile at him. She was so incredibly lovely. How much luckier could one man be? He smiled back and surveying the deserted hall, he mouthed the words "I love you". Clark turned and walked briskly down the stairs and toward the administrative offices of Smallville High School. This was his free period and he had hopes of getting some time to himself to make some lesson plans. He was behind in his paper work as his alter ego, Superman, had been quite busy the last few weeks. Besides the occasional catastrophe or crime, he had become somewhat of a celebrity of late and had been requested to visit hospitals, orphanages, nursing homes and the like around the holidays. Clark found that these last events were rejuvenating in a way, but very time consuming. Lois had been so gracious and understanding every time he had been called away. Their holidays had been wonderful, but they had been interrupted frequently. The moments he had shared with Lois, however, were filled with gradually mounting passion, and he was finding it difficult to maintain their agreement of waiting until their wedding night. he thought. It was going to take super strength to make it through. He entered the administrative offices and saw Principal White's secretary, Beatrice Drake, busy as usual making copies. "Good morning, Beatrice," Clark said unable to take the grin off his face. She looked up and smiled at the son of her life-long friend, Martha. "Your Mom left these for you," she informed him. "She said that you forgot to take them with you on Saturday." Beatrice glanced at the posters and then back at him. "Looks like a interesting one." Clark took the posters that Beatrice handed him, putting them under his arm. He took one of the colorful posters and hung it up in the office. He stapled it to the bulletin board and stepped back to read it again. *=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=* .......Smallville Players........ .......Announce Auditions........ ...............for................ .... "Arsenic and Old Lace"...... .....A comedy about murder!...... ............3:00 p.m............. .....Sunday, January 16,1994..... Smallville High School Auditorium For information call: .555-6771 *=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=* "You going to audition, Beatrice?" Clark asked her. "Of course," she replied. Well, you had to hand it to his mother, to select a play about murder so soon after the killing of Lex Luthor, School Board Superintendent. He picked up the posters and wandered back to the teachers' lounge. Had it really been less than two months ago that Bill Saxon had stabbed Lex Luthor to death? And now Bill had been.... Maybe after Saturday's tragedy, his mother would want to change...Clark sighed as he thought back on the prison riot. He had gotten there as fast as he could, but not soon enough. He was able to isolate the perpetrators and stop additional mayhem, but he couldn't save the guard and the one prisoner who had been killed during the first hail of bullets. Ironically, the one dead prisoner was fellow teacher and thespian, Bill Saxon. Smallville was shocked over Bill's death, just as they had been by Bill's act of vengeance two months before--the act that had promulgated his incarceration after he had pled guilty to the slaying of Lex Luthor. Granted Luthor had been an evil man, even Clark, Mr. Goody-two-shoes, could admit that. But the community still found it difficult to believe that the man they had known for years could have resorted to murder. Clark got a cup of coffee and his planning sheets and sat down at the table. But his mind was no longer on his classes. He thought back to that Saturday night in mid November when the Smallville Players had been abruptly stopped right at the climax of their presentation of "Murder on the Orient Express" by the real-life murder of Lex Luthor. And, just like that detective thriller they were enacting, they were stuck by a snow storm in the Luthor Bank Building as they rallied to solve Luthor's murder. Clark remembered how they all had looked to Bill Saxon to explain why a retired schoolteacher and friend to all of them had utilized the play's atmosphere to kill Lex Luthor. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Saturday, November 19, 1993 10:20 p.m. CST "I guess I was really getting into my role," Bill said to all the actors in the room. "I have been sort of playing detective," he explained as he took the floor from the real detective, Inspector Henderson, and faced his audience. Bill Saxon, who had depicted Hercule Poirot so eloquently, was now in his element. He was an actor and he was portraying the role of a lifetime. "And, what I found," he continued, "was a whole lot of wonderful, courageous people whom I loved, and who had been pushed to the brink of doing something incredibly stupid," he said emotionally, tears welling up in his eyes. "So," he sighed. "I decided to take matters into my own hands and do it first as a way of stopping all of you," he continued. "Lex Luthor was a depraved and corrupt man. He was responsible for our pain and for the deaths of people we all loved. His destruction is a blessing for our community and for each of the lives he attempted to defile." *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Monday, January 10, 1994 2:45 p.m. CST Clark began to read the papers in front of him, lifted the cup to his lips, took a swallow and grimaced. The coffee was cold. As no one else was in the teachers' lounge, he pulled down his glasses and using his heat vision, warmed up the coffee. Clark looked at the clock above the teachers' copy machine and realized he had been musing over Luthor and Bill's death for more than thirty minutes. In thinking about Bill's death, he knew that there was something else he needed to do. Clark walked down the hall to Barb Friskin's office and knocked. *********** Continuing to look at her ring, Lois' mind quickly ran through her life changes since she arrived in Smallville. she thought. Clark had been appointed her mentor to help her adjust to the new school, but it was her being cast opposite Clark in the Smallville Players' "The Male Animal" where they had been "forced" to spend many hours rehearsing love scenes that had altered Lois Lane forever. She smiled again as she remembered how their love had been sparked by their devotion to the social justice issues of that play and the problems of Keith Haley, who had spoken out about his sexuality. Her love for Clark had grown over the weeks and then one night, Lois Lane, city woman, found herself on a Kansas hayride being beautifully kissed by a man she had once thought of as a "farmboy". And, later under the soft theatre lights, he had confessed his love and had asked her to be his wife; and then, incredibly, told her he was Superman. She smiled to herself as she remembered his fear that she would reject him; but Lois, knowing that she would follow her favorite author's advice and "love more", fell into Clark's arms. Although, almost thwarted by Lex Luthor, Clark had remained true and steadfast, and was ready to share his entire life with her. He loved her. And Lois Lane loved Clark Kent. How could she not? He was so... "Miss Lane?" Tom Mock, one of her students, asked. "Oh, yes." she responded, shaking off her wonderful reverie. "Uh...we...we had a very interesting first semester in this class using the 1960s classic novel `In Cold Blood' as the foundation for analysis, discussion and debate." The students of the class glanced around at each other. Lois smiled as her eyes met those of her students. She realized how far the class as a whole and each individual student had come since the beginning of the previous semester--how they had gained a new appreciation for diversity and commitment. They looked up at their teacher and anxiously awaited the new and exciting assignment. "This semester, we're going to analyze something a little older. We're going to study Nathaniel Hawthorne's `House of the Seven Gables'," their teacher told them. The class looked at each other once again, but this time groaned in unison. *********** Just as Clark heard Barb Friskin yell out "Come in," he heard another call, a call for help. He made his way instantaneously down the hall and ducked out the door that faced the back of the school, Clark checked around and noting that all was clear, spun into his suit and took off into the sky. *********** Barb Friskin, high school counselor, seeing no one enter, rose from her chair and walked over to the door of her office. She opened it and looked out into the hall. Shaking her head in wonder, Barb Friskin, walked back to her chair and sat down. She picked up a file from her in basket, and opened it. She glanced briefly at the intake assessment she had written when she had met with the student for the first time in early December. She wanted to renew her notes before she saw her again right after school. This was going to be a complicated case--childhood sexual abuse always was. Barb thought. They can be so caring, so nurturing, so necessary. They can also be so violent. Dysfunctional was a mild word for some families. Could she even address this young girl's issues, when her experience with families was so far removed from functional as it could get? Her father had left the family when she and her sister were very young, leaving their mother to raise them and change into a bitter old women while still very young. Barb's sister had been killed by her own husband. She herself had been through a messy divorce. And through the counselor she had been reunited with her nephew and father only to have one imprisoned for murder and killed in a riot while the other had truly taken on the role of the sadistic scion to a corporation founded on deceit, betrayal and evil. Barb opened the drawer of her desk. Was it only three months ago that she had considered using the gun that glinted up at her to kill Lex Luthor, the man who had murdered her sister and turned her nephew into an amoral sycophant? Her father had done it for her, so the gun remained unused. But was there more to be done? Barb slowly closed the drawer. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:16 p.m. CST "Is that you, Lloyd?" Lavinia asked. "Yup, had a little work done to my face. But it's me all right." The family members looked at the rifle in Lloyd's hands. "Put that damn thing down," Letty shouted at her brother. "You aren't going to kill anyone." Leticia Barton walked up to Lloyd and took the rifle. She opened the broom closet and shoved the rifle inside. Closing the closet, she turned toward the rest of the family. "I decide who gets murdered around here," she told them. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Monday, January 10, 1994 2:45 p.m. "I make the decisions, now!" Jaxon Luthor told the staff that stood in front of his desk. "I'm in charge and you'll do what I say. Now get out, all of you!" Jaxon Luthor picked up the telephone and pushed a button. "Get in here!" he yelled into the receiver and slammed it down. Jaxon rose from his chair and began pacing the length of large paneled room. The door opened and Sheldon Bender, attorney at law, entered the office. "Where are those papers?" Jaxon hissed in a somewhat poor imitation of his father. "Here they are, sir," the small bespectacled lawyer said, handing the manila folder to him. "I just filed these at the court house. A very Happy Birthday, sir," he said, groveling. "So, it's all legal, now?" Jaxon asked, perusing the papers. "I'm eighteen and I have full power. My father's attorneys no longer control anything." "That's right," Bender told him. "You're in control of it all." Jaxon smiled. "All right, get out and leave me alone." Lex Luthor's son waited until the attorney had left and reached for the telephone once again. "Murder her!" he said to the person at the other end and put the phone back in its cradle. He slowly turned 360 degrees in the swivel chair, smiling to himself. Stopping, he opened a drawer, took out a box and lifted the lid. Once again he stared at the green glowing rock. "Soon, soon." *********** Linda Botts, assistant director, properties manager, costumer and general gopher for the Smallville Players, knocked on the front door of 417 Maple. She stared up at the old house and felt a shiver go through and through her. She wondered why in the world Martha had asked her to do this errand and why Miss Libby was interested in the Smallville Players. When no one answered her persistent knocking, she placed the script in the mailbox and left. Miss Barton looked out of the window of her bedroom. As soon as Linda had moved off down the street, Libby went down stairs, took the script out of the mailbox and returned to her bedroom to sit in the chair by the window, Jinx number five curled up by her side. `Arsenic and Old Lace', a comedy about murder, she read off the cover. Miss Barton smiled to herself. "That ought to be fun," she said aloud and then opened the script and began reading. Aunt Abby: And for pity's sake stop worrying. We told you to forget the whole thing. Mortimer: Forget! My dear Aunt Abby, can't I make you realize that something has to be done? Aunt Abby: No, Mortimer, you behave yourself. You're too old to be flying off the handle like this. Mortimer: But Mr. Hotchkiss--- Aunt Abby: Hoskins, dear. Hoskins. Mortimer: Well, whatever his name is, you can't leave him there. Aunt Martha: We don't intend to, dear. Aunt Abby: No, Teddy's down in the cellar now digging the lock. Mortimer: You mean you're going to bury Mr. Hotchkiss in the cellar? Aunt Martha: Oh, yes, dear--that's what we did with the others. Mortimer: No! You can't bury Mr.----*others?* Aunt Abby: The other gentlemen. Mortimer: When you say others--do you mean--others? More than one others? Aunt Martha. Oh, yes, dear. Let me see, this is eleven. [To Aunt Abby] Isn't it, Abby? Aunt Abby: No, dear, this makes, twelve. Libby Barton raised her head and put down the script. "Twelve," she said out loud. *********** "Come on guys," Lois Lane said to her students. "This ought to be fun. Everyone reads Hawthorne's `Scarlet Letter'; we're going to do something a little different. And your concurrent assignment will be a chance to stretch your research skills--and something I think you can all get into. `The House of the Seven Gables' is a romance. It's a gothic romance about love and murder," their teacher explained. "So is our concurrent assignment to get romantic with someone or to kill someone?" Tom Mock queried. The students laughed. "No," Lois said, ignoring the laughter, as she picked up a book from her desk, opened it and read. *******"Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm.... ...the story would include a chain of events extending over the better part of two centuries, ...a connection with the long past--a reference to forgotten events and personages, and to manners, feelings, and opinions, almost or wholly obsolete--which, if adequately translated to the reader, would serve to illustrate how much of old material goes to make up the freshest novelty of human life. Hence, too, might be drawn a weighty lesson from the little- regarded truth, that the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit in a far- distant time; that, together with the seed of the merely temporary crop, which mortals term expediency, they inevitably sow the acorns of a more enduring growth, which may darkly overshadow their posterity." ******* Lois put down the book. "What do you think that means?" she asked the class. "Well," said Keith Haley. "It sounds like by learning about a house and who lived in the house, we get to know about the people who live there now. And that if evil people lived there once upon a time, the house and the people in it now would be influenced by that evil, too." "That's what it says," Lois declared. "Do you believe that, Miss Lane?" Cindy Brady asked. "I want to know what you think," their teacher explained. "So the concurrent assignment is to form into six groups and each take one of the houses I'm going to list on the board, and to investigate its history. You're job is to research what was going on when it was built, who built it, the architectural style, and most importantly the story of the people who lived there." "How did you choose the houses?" Tom asked her. "Yes, Tom. Yours is one of the houses, but I'm going to ask that you be on one of the other teams." "Hey, no fair," Tom told his teacher. *********** In response to the cries for help, Superman landed outside the back entrance to the Smallville General Hospital, where firefighters were already at work dousing the flames that were engulfing the second floor. Hospital workers were bringing out gurneys, rolling hospital beds and escorting walking patients out to the parking lot. "Superman," the fire chief said gratefully. "Glad you're here. There was an explosion in the laboratory located in the east wing. We're having a tough time controlling the fire. Can you..." Before the chief could finish his query, Superman flew into the window of the second floor laboratory and using his super breath, extinguished the fire. Below watching the event was Coroner Gretchen Kelly, her wagon at the ready. Through the smoke and haze, Superman was able to see two bodies lying on the floor of the lab. Superman examined the two and found Dr. Bernard Klein still breathing, but he was too late to save the other person crumpled upon the floor. Superman carried Dr. Klein to safety and then returned for the lifeless body of Dr. Antoinette Baines. *********** Lois smiled at Tom and the rest of the class. The class had come a long way together since she first entered their lives in September. They all had grown--they as students and individuals and she as a teacher. They're trip into activism, into celebration of diversity had made an impact on them all. And each and every one was all the better for it. So now, as their comfort zone with each other had increased measurably, the students in the class found they could joke around, offer opinions and be creative without threat of reprisals. "I spent part of the Winter Break down at the hall of records," Lois told her class. "And I found six houses that were built before the turn of the century and that had been the homes of one or at the most two different families for its entire existence. Lois turned back to the black board, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote the following names while the students jotted down the information. Bash/Mock (circa 1860 523 4th Street) Kent (circa 1862 807 Main Street) Friskin/Clark (circa 1873 334 Elm Street) Johnson (circa 1875 212 3rd Street) Taggart (circa 1881 345 Maple Street) Barton (circa 1887 417 Maple Street) When Lois had written the last name on the board, the students gasped. Lois turned to face them. "Any problem?" she asked, remembering not too fondly, the reaction she had received last semester when she put the topics for discussion on the board. But what could possibly be controversial about this project? "I'm waiting," Lois asked the group. "It's the Barton house," Emily Cox explained. "What about it?" Lois inquired. "Well," said John Greene. "Old Lady Barton is the only one left living there now." "And?" she urged him. "In 1938, Miss Libby Barton murdered everyone in that house." *********** *********** Cassville, New Jersey Sunday, October 30, 1938 8:16 p.m. EST Unlike Libby Barton, another twelve-year old, living some one thousand miles away from Smallville, Kansas' heartland, was not distracted away from his family's radio that October night in 1938. "Mother," he called out. "You've got to listen to this. There's real trouble at Grover's Mill. A meteorite landed!" Jason's mother came into the living room of the modest house on Spring Street and sat down next to her son. "Where's Grover's Mill?" she asked him. "I don't know," Jason replied. "But it's twenty miles from Trenton and we're twenty- two miles away." "Maybe they mean Francis Mill, that's just two miles up Cassville Road." ########## ANNOUNCER TWO: For those of you have joined us late, we have a special bulletin: It has been reported that at 8:10 P. M., eastern standard time, a huge, flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grover's Mill, New Jersey, twenty miles from Trenton. We take you now to Grover's Mill, New Jersey. ########### Jason and his mother could hear loud background noises and sirens behind the voice of the announcer. ########## PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Carl Phillips again, at the Wilmuth farm, Grover's Mill, New Jersey. Professor Pierson and myself made the eleven miles from Princeton in ten minutes. Well, I . . . I hardly know where to begin, to paint for you a word picture of the strange scene before my eyes, like something out of a modern "Arabian Nights." Well, I just got here. I haven't had a chance to look around yet. I guess that's it. Yes, I guess that's the . . . thing, directly in front of me, half buried in a vast pit. Must have struck with terrific force. The ground is covered with splinters of a tree it must have struck on its way down. What I can see of the . . . object itself doesn't look very much like a meteor, at least not the meteors I've seen. It looks more like a huge cylinder. ########## *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Wednesday, May 18, 1966 3:30 p.m. CST Jonathan Kent hurried into the kitchen of his home where Martha was warming a bottle of milk for their new-found son. "There are government people in town asking all kinds of questions," he told her. "You've got to destroy that...that...cylinder thing...that whatever it is," she insisted. "The men in town say it's a Russian experiment gone sour," he told her. "The capsule should be safe until tonight. I dragged it behind some bushes. After dark, I'll go back and burn it." *********** Later that May 18th night, in the darkness that surrounded Shuster's field, Libby Barton held the unusual circular thing in her hands. It was a globe of some sort. Then she examined the space ship and her hand ran slowly over the letters etched in its surface. Then from where she stood, by the hidden space ship, Libby suddenly heard some twigs crack as Jonathan Kent made his way back to where he concealed the vessel that had brought happiness back into his wife's eyes. Libby put the globe into her pocket, rearranged the branches to disguise the ship once again, and ran across Shuster's field and back toward her home. Jonathan moved the branches and looked at the ship. He set down the gasoline cans he had brought with him to obliterate the evidence. He paused as he stared at the space craft. This cylinder had changed their lives. He had to destroy it. But how could he...? *********** *********** Cassville, New Jersey Sunday, October 30, 1938 8:19 p.m. EST ########### PHILLIPS: ...the object itself doesn't look very much like a meteor, at least not the meteors I've seen. It looks more like a huge cylinder. It has a diameter of . . . what would you say, Professor Pierson? PIERSON: What's that? PHILLIPS: What would you say . . . what is the diameter? PIERSON: About thirty yards. PHILLIPS: About thirty yards . . . The metal on the sheath is . . . well, I've never seen anything like it. The color is sort of yellowish-white. Curious spectators now are pressing close to the object in spite of the efforts of the police to keep them back. They're getting in front of my line of vision. Would you mind standing to one side, please? POLICEMAN: One side, there, one side. ########### "Where's Father," Jason asked. "He knows all about this stuff." "I know," his mother responded walking over to the window to look out. "Maybe he has to stay at Lakehurst longer because of this. Maybe the personnel at the Naval Air Station have been put on alert." ########### PHILLIPS: While the policemen are pushing the crowd back, here's Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm here. He may have some interesting facts to add . . . Mr. Wilmuth, would you please tell the radio audience as much as you remember of this rather unusual visitor that dropped in your backyard? Step closer, please. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. Wilmuth. WILMUTH: Well, I was listenin' to the radio. PHILLIPS: Closer and louder please. WILMUTH: Yes, sir -- while I was listening to the radio and kinda drowsin', that Professor fellow was talkin' about Mars, so I was half dozin' and half . . PHILLIPS: Yes, yes, Mr. Wilmuth. Then what happened? WILMUTH: As I was sayin', I was listenin' to the radio kinda halfways . . . PHILLIPS: Yes, Mr. Wilmuth, and then you saw something? WILMUTH: Not first off. I heard something. PHILLIPS: And what did you hear? WILMUTH: A hissing sound. Like this: sssssss . . . kinda like a fourt' of July rocket. PHILLIPS: Then what? WILMUTH: Turned my head out the window and would have swore I was to sleep and dreamin.' PHILLIPS: Yes? WILMUTH: I seen a kinda greenish streak and then zingo! Somethin' smacked the ground. Knocked me clear out of my chair! ########### "Wow!" Jason exclaimed. "Come listen, mother." "I can hear just fine from over here," his mother told him and turned her head back to look out the window. Jason was riveted to the radio, hanging on each and every word. His mother, Mary, stared out the window hoping David would get home shortly. She thought back on another day eighteen months before when she and David were equally fascinated by a radio broadcast. *********** *********** Arlington, Virginia Thursday, May 6, 1937 7:25 p.m. EST ########### NEW JERSEY ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen. This is Herbert Morrison broadcasting live from Lakehurst Naval Air Station in New Jersey. The great air ship, Hindenburg is about to come in for a landing.... It's practically standing still now. They've dropped ropes out of the nose of the ship, and it's been taken a hold of down on the field by a number of men. It's starting to rain again; the rain had slacked up a little bit. The back motors of the ship are just holding it, just enough to keep it from -- It burst into flames! ... It's on fire and it's crashing! It's crashing terrible! Oh, my! Get out of the way, please! It's burning, bursting into flames and is falling on the mooring mast, and all the folks agree that this is terrible. This is the worst of the worst catastrophes in the world! ...There's smoke, and there's flames now, and the frame is crashing to the ground, not quite to the mooring mast...Oh, the humanity, and all the passengers screaming around here! ########### Mary looked over at her husband as he started to get up and put on his coat. "I'll be needed at the War Department," David told her as he put on his jacket. "I know," she said to her husband, as she helped straighten his tie. "Being the wife of the Naval Commander in charge of finding boogie men, hasn't been easy." She walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his hat and handed it to him. "Do you think it's saboteurs?" "As Thomas Jefferson said, 'The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.'" David kissed her gently and strode out the door. Mary sighed and walked into her son's bedroom. The ten-year old lay sleeping. He had had a cold for the last two days and Mary had put him to bed early. She leaned down and felt his forehead. The fever appeared to have subsided and Jason was sleeping gently. She walked into her bedroom. She opened the closet door and took out two large well-worn suitcases and began packing. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 5:30 p.m. ########### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML, Radio Smallville with the news. At present, the Galileo spacecraft is about 150 million miles from Jupiter and its cameras will be able to see part of the planet's night side, where comet impacts are predicted to take place. Galileo will be capable of taking pictures, says a spokesperson from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California. These pictures and infrared spectral scans must be tape-recorded for slow playback, which is expected in a month or two. ########### Clark came up behind Lois and encircled her waist with his arms and kissed the nape of her neck. "Mmmmm," Lois murmured. "You're going to have to stop, if you want anything to eat," she explained, stirring the sauce on the stove. "Your mom gave me this recipe, and I don't want to spoil it." "You don't have to do this," Clark told her. He moved his hand to turn off the burner on the stove. "I'm not really hungry...for food," he said, turning her around and pulling her into his arms. He kissed her lightly, then more passionately; and continuing to search out her mouth, he walked her slowly out of the kitchen toward the living room couch. "You're getting really good at this," Lois informed him as she came up for air. "You haven't seen anything yet," Clark told her. Maneuvering her carefully, he levitated them slowly until they were above the couch horizontally and then gradually, effortlessly, he lowered them gently unto the couch itself. Lois ran her fingers through his hair as she kissed Clark intently. His body, lying on top of her, provided her with a feeling of warmth and safety she had never known before. His hand began unbuttoning her blouse. Lois knew that their resolve to wait was threatened. She hesitated for just an instant. Lois was uncertain, doubtful-- maybe terrified was the word she was really searching for--because she wanted this so much...she wanted this relationship to work. She wanted him to... she really did, but... Clark pulled back, his head cocked in that familiar way. "Lois," he said, reluctantly. "I know. Go." Lois watched Clark change into his suit. She smiled. She would never tired of seeing him do that spin thing. Clark smiled back at her and hurrying out her door, he flew off. Lois followed out onto the porch. She took a deep breath. It was probably a good thing that he had been needed. They had to talk, she decided. All of her past relationships had been so terrible and Lois didn't want this one to end that way. Deep down she knew that their love was special and their passion would never grow cold. A gust of wind blew through the porch. She shivered in the cold January evening as she watched him streak across the sky. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 5:40 p.m. Martha Kent looked down at the script she was preparing as the prompt book. She was enlarging the pages and leaving space in the left-hand margin for her notes. She took a look at the pages she had just run off on the copier. Aunt Martha: Mortimer didn't seem quite himself today. Aunt Abby: Well, that's only natural--I think I know why. Aunt Martha: Why? Aunt Abby: He's just become engaged to be married. I suppose that always makes a man nervous. The Director of the Smallville Players stopped reading. A strange sensation had hit her--a strange premonition. she thought. Lois and Clark are fine. *********** *********** Roswell, New Mexico Tuesday, July 8, 1947 3:40 p.m. MDT Lou Ann Baker walked over to one of the tables in the Copper Kettle Caf‚. "Would you like me to warm that for you?" she asked. "I'm sure it was a flying saucer," Mac said to his friend across the table and then looked up at Lou Ann. "Yeah honey," he said. "Warm her right up." "Are you crazy?" Sheriff Wilcox asked him. "I know we been hearing lots about space ships and such recently. But here in New Mexico, nah!" Lou Ann slowly walked back to the counter. She closed her eyes and remembered a day back in 1938, a day she would never forget. It was a hoax then--the alien threat. There had been no little green Martians. No, monsters didn't come from outer space, they came from right in your own home. The 1938 attack from Mars had been hoax-- plain and simple. And just like then, it was a hoax now. Lou Ann hoped that what had happened that October day was behind her. She had paid the penalty required by society-- she had been put away for almost nine years. Four months ago, when she turned twenty-one, she had been released and had moved away from Smallville, Kansas. She had come to as remote a place as she could think of-- Roswell, New Mexico. No one knew her here and she had started a new life. Libby Barton had become Lou Ann Baker. But now aliens in Roswell, New Mexico. Would monsters always be part of her life? The door to the caf‚ opened and two tall men dressed in military uniforms entered. They sat down on the counter. "Coffee," said one. The other officer scanned the caf‚. "Which one is W.W. Brazell?" he asked Lou Ann. "That would be me," Mac responded as he walked toward the officer. "I'm Major Marcel," the Army officer informed him, "and you--you're taking me out to your ranch." *********** *********** Cassville, New Jersey Sunday, October 30, 1938 8:21 p.m. EST Jason walked over to the window and tugged at his mother's arm. "Come listen," he told her. "They're talking to someone from Grover's Mill." "You listen," Mary told her excited son. "I'm watching for your father." Mary looked up in the sky and wondered, fearfully. Her husband had been involved with seeking out those that wanted to hurt us. David had railed against invaders, saying that they wanted to destroy this nation. He had been thought a loose canon as he tried for the last eighteen months to prove that saboteurs were at the bottom of the Hindenburg disaster. She had tried to support him, but she was beginning to believe that David was imagining things-- no alien power could be that corrupt. But now, maybe he was right; but the danger wasn't coming from across the Atlantic, it was coming from up there, outer space. Mary was frightened but she couldn't let her son know that she was scared. ########### PHILLIPS: Well, were you frightened, Mr. Wilmuth? WILMUTH: Well, I -- I ain't quite sure. I reckon I -- I was kinda riled. PHILLIPS: Thank you, Mr. Wilmuth. Thank you. WILMUTH: Want me to tell you some more? PHILLIPS: No . . . That's quite all right, that's plenty. Ladies and gentlemen, you've just heard Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm where this thing has fallen. I wish I could convey the atmosphere . . . the background of this . . . fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us. Police are trying to rope off the roadway leading to the farm. But it's no use. They're breaking right through. Cars' headlights throw an enormous spot on the pit where the object's half buried. Some of the more daring souls are now venturing near the edge. Their silhouettes stand out against the metal sheen. ########### A faint humming sound came from the radio in the New Jersey living room. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 5:35 p.m. The car's brakes weren't working! Vivian Cox pumped at them repeatedly, but the car kept speeding up, as it slid along the icy surface of Maple Street toward...toward the bridge. Miss Libby Barton poised herself on top of the window seat as she peered out to see what was happening. Nothing that occurred on Maple Street got by Miss Libby. The Barton home was the last house on the street before one came to the bridge that crossed the Arkansas River, which traversed Smallville's eastside. The bridge was slated for renovation in the summer of 1994, as the state survey last fall had declared that it was sorely in need of repair, but that was six months off--now it could be hazardous. The occupant of 417 Maple Street was about to go phone for help, when she saw Superman land just in front of the car and stop the runaway from crashing into the guardrail and careening off the bridge. Suddenly, Miss Libby heard a faint humming sound coming from the window seat beneath her. She stood up and once again retrieved the globe that had been resting there for almost twenty-eight years. she thought as she looked at the globe. Miss Libby smiled as she realized that she had been right to keep the secret. No one would have believed her. But knowing the Kents, she also knew that this particular alien would never be the monster people had feared long ago. Deep down she knew that the baby nestled in Martha's arms she saw back in 1966 had a destiny far beyond any little green man threatening the world in 1938 or 1947. Miss Libby looked out her window, as the globe began to vibrate again. Jinx jumped up onto the window seat obviously attracted by the sound. Out on the slippery street, Superman opened the car door to assure that the driver was okay. Vivian Cox smiled up at him. "Thank you, Superman," she said breathlessly. "Are you all right?" the man of steel asked her. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little shaky," she explained as Rachel Harris arrived on the scene. Libby closed the curtain, picking up Jinx. Superman's head jerked right as he heard something. Not a call for help this time, but an unusual humming sound that was vaguely familiar as if from a far distant memory. *********** "Move over! Let me try," Tom Mock insisted, gently pushing Emily Cox to one side. Tom sat down at the computer and typed something on the keyboard. The screen changed and the menu from the Kansas State Genealogical Society appeared. "Got it!" he exclaimed. Cindy Brady put her hands on Tom's shoulders, as she stared at the monitor. "Great!" she said excitedly. "Wow!" Keith Haley echoed. "Now we're getting someplace." The four students from Miss Lane's American Literature Class had been in the computer lab for several hours after school while researching their assignment. Jimmy Olsen, who taught computers at Smallville High School and was at his desk at the back of the lab, heard their exclamations, joined the group as they clustered around the computer. "Sounds like you're on to something," Jimmy remarked. "Yeah," Tom told him. "Look at this, everyone." The screen displayed the entire family history of Laslo and Lillian Barton. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 6:00 p.m. CST Lois heard the whoosh as Superman returned and landed on her back porch; and, as Clark, dressed back in jeans and a flannel shirt, he entered her kitchen and walked over to sit beside her on the couch. "Vivian Cox almost went off the Maple Street Bridge." "Is she all right?" Lois asked. "Yes, she's fine." "Something else happened. Didn't it?" Lois asked, looking at Clark's faraway expression. "No, nothing, not really. Just sort of a flashback to a past memory that I can't put my hands on," he replied in a somewhat disconnected voice. "You know, we've never really shared some memories," Lois said slowly. "I mean I know a lot about you--you're from a different planet, you can fly and you have hearing and vision gismos. But there's one or two things we haven't talked about." "One or two things?" "Well one thing," Lois said hesitantly. "What thing." "*The* thing." "Oh," Clark said squirming a little. "That thing." "Before you left, we almost. I mean we.... We haven't had much experience togeth...I mean we...Oh God, I'm sucking the romance out of this just like a vacuum." "No Lois, I know." "I mean," she went on. "We've waited. And I'm glad." "I'm glad too." "But this is what's been bothering me. The other night I was thinking about my past relationships and I made a list. And they all wound up in the negative column." "But now you have me," Clark said reaching his hand out to her. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 6:10 p.m. CST Jaxon Luthor slammed down the receiver and turned to his computer. He typed in `Resurrection', and a list appeared. The list held twelve names--a hit list. Jaxon printed off the list and calmly crossed off two names: Bill Saxon and Antoinette Baines. He angrily looked at the third name, Vivian Cox, and made a note to.... The door of the study opened and a man entered. He slammed the door shut and turned to his son. "I've been waiting at that damned deserted farmhouse for almost a week." "Bender's got the paperwork just about completed. You're going to be Richard Thurston. You know Dad--Richard the Third?" Lex chuckled. "I see you've inherited my sense of the absurd." "Well," Jaxon said, now less fearful of his father's reaction. "If you're going to infiltrate the Smallville Players, why not a theatrical name. And, if memory serves, that's your favorite play." *********** "The point is," Lois said, rising to pace the floor of her living room. "I've worked through a lot of my fears. A...a lot," she explained as she walked back and forth. "Except one. And.... And, it's not a fear really, it's more of a concern," she explained and stopped pacing to look right at him. "About *that* thing." "Well actually you've brought up a good point. Because we haven't really talked about," he paused. "Our pasts." "Right...right, exactly," Lois said a little relieved, and sat down next to him on the couch. "And.... Well...I just wanted you to know...uh...why I've been a little skittish about crossing the intimacy threshold. And.... And you've been so understanding that I thought maybe you were a little skittish too?" she asked hoping that she hadn't sounded ridiculous. "Well, uh...my experiences have been...," Clark started, his face showing a sense of apprehension so unlike him. Lois stared at him. He seemed so unsure, so nervous. Was there something in his past that he couldn't share? He had told her about being Superman, what other big secret had he failed to tell her? "...uh...different." "Mm hmm," Lois said, picking up a sofa cushion that was between them and putting it on her lap and scootching closer to him. Clark looked at her. He took a deep breath. How was he going to tell her? His life had been so strange. He was not of this world, yet he had been part of this world for twenty-seven years. He wanted so much to feel like he belonged. His parents had given him much of that, but it has been Lois who has really moved him toward feeling ready to give of himself totally to someone. He had waited until there *was* a someone who knew everything and he guessed that knowing this was part of knowing everything. "*I'm* a little different." "Sure," Lois said, looking up at him and encouraging him to go on. He took another deep breath and began. "I mean. I've had girlfriends. I've dated." She nodded, her full attention on him. "But *that* thing..." Clark said apprehensively. "...The intimacy threshold...the *big* threshold..." he said with a nervous chuckle. He sighed, looked down and then looked back at Lois. "I've never really...crossed it." Lois' eyes went wide and the cushion she had in her lap, dropped to the floor. "I...I've stepped right up," Clark said "--taken a good look but..." "Oh my God!" Lois exclaimed and began taking deep breaths. "Lois, I'm not from here. So I'm always asking myself `Do I belong?' Am I really supposed to have a life here?" "Oh my God!" Lois repeated. "Lois. Are you listening? `Cause I'm kind of pouring my heart out here," Clark said looking at her intently. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just a little.... C...could we get some fresh air? "Sure." Lois walked out onto the front porch with Clark following her. "So what you're saying is...you're a v...vir...very patient man." Clark turned her to look at him. "Lois I needed to be sure. I needed to meet the one person that I could share everything with." "No, I admire the way you've dealt with this," Lois said stepping back and fidgeting. "I...I also feel a little...." "Yeah?" Clark urged. "I just wish you'd told me about this before. I mean this is big," Lois said pointedly. "I didn't know exactly how to bring it up," "It just adds pressure to a situation that has plenty of pressure," Lois said, turning away again. "Lois, there is no pressure," Clark told her emphatically, reaching out and turning her back again. "Because...I'm sure I made the right choice. You're the person I waited for." Lois' faced softened as the tension drained and was replaced with warmth. She looked at Clark with understanding. Every day she learned more about this wonderful man-- the man who loved her unconditionally, who supported her totally and who was her best friend--the man who she was going to marry. She glanced over Clark's shoulder through the living room window and saw the precious piece of quartz enclosed in its glass case. "Friends...they cherish one another's hopes. They are kind to each other's dreams." He had waited for her. His whole life, he had waited for the one person he could share things with. There had been friends, there had been his parents. But he needed that one deep relationship--the one who would provide that special support and love--the person to share his hopes and dreams. "Oh, Clark," she said softly with a touch of anguish. "I just wish I had waited, too." "No, no, no, n...," Clark insisted, shaking his head and beginning to understand her concern. "Well, I do," Lois interrupted, shivering. "Especially since they were all practically federal disasters." "Well then think of it that way," Clark said taking her hands and leading her out of the cold and back into the living room. "I'll be your first non-federal disaster," he continued, smiling that incredible smile of his. "And you'll be my first... Clark turned his head suddenly. "What do you hear?" "Ah...bank alarm." "Go, Clark!" "I'm sure the sheriff has it under control. I don't want to leave while we're..." "I'm fine...Go!" she exclaimed. Clark spun back into the suit for the second time that evening and flew off. Lois sighed and shut the front door. *********** Superman landed at the bank building to find Rachel Harris just arriving. "I'll check it out, he told her." Superman entered the bank and scanned everything. Nothing, no one there. His eyes lit on some exposed wires inside the time lock. He pulled open the box and using his heat vision, fused the wires. "A wiring problem," Superman told Rachel and the bank manager who had just appeared on the scene. "Bank alarm went off accidentally. I took care of it." "Thanks, Superman," they both said together. *********** Lois turned on the radio. KSML was playing some oldies music. Lois sank onto her couch. Her head was throbbing. This had, indeed, been a long day. She put her hand to her neck and rotated her head. Maybe she was coming down with the flu as her muscles were starting to ache. Lois began coughing. She couldn't get sick, not just at the start of a new semester. Lois tried to get up to get some juice and maybe an aspirin. She felt strange, she had no strength and she wasn't able to catch her breath. She collapsed back on the couch. *********** Clark flew up into the sky. As he returned toward Lois' he sensed something wrong. Using his x-ray vision, he saw Lois fall back on the couch and quickly flew through the window, shattering the glass and landing at her side. "Lois!" he yelled. She was unconscious. He leaned down and placing his mouth over hers, gave her mouth to mouth resuscitation. "Come on, Lois," he demanded. Lois started to cough. Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly came around. "What happened?" she asked. "I don't know," he said. "But I'm flying you to the hospital, right now." As the radio continued playing in the background, Clark gathered her into his arms and nudging open the door with his shoulder, he flew off with his precious cargo. ########### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML, radio. Shots were fired at the Topeka Courthouse tonight during the arraignment of a suspected rapist. Father of the fifteen- year old victim opened fire wounding the suspect, a guard and killing Judge Deborah Joy LeVine. ########### *********** "Well, Dad," Jaxon said, turning off the radio. That's number four on the list." "What about Vivian Cox?" his father said looking at him sharply. "We'll try again, and just like I kept Superman busy with the bank alarm and with saving Lois Lane, I'll make sure there's no interference this time." "You'd better!" Lex hissed. "Your ineptitude is beginning to show." "I'll show you ineptitude!" he yelled. "They'll all get theirs!" "I want Lois Lane saved for last," Lex dictated. "So do I," Jaxon said. "'He whose ranks are united in purpose will be victorious.'" "Ah," Lex said smiling. "Sun Tzu's `The Art of War'. I'm impressed! Maybe I miscalculated calling you inept." "I'll make you proud of me. We'll get them all for what they did." Jaxon said fervently. "There's another quotation from Sun Tsu where *he* miscalculated," Lex informed his son. "'Anger can revert to joy, but a nation destroyed cannot be restored to existence, and the dead cannot be restored to life.' We proved him erroneous, you and I." "Right!" Jaxon echoed. "So we're together on this. Lois Lane will be last, but I agree it would be fun to toy with her for awhile. Meanwhile Vivian Cox is next," he ordered. *********** Superman landed Lois at the hospital and then left to reenter urgently as Clark, coming to Lois' side. "She has the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning," the doctor told Clark and then looked at Lois. "You should both check your house immediately, these accidents have happened in many old homes around here. She shouldn't return to her home tonight," he suggested returning his gaze toward Clark. "Superman gave her the best treatment for that poisoning, flying her through clean air. She should be okay now, as it was caught in time. But keep her up, breathing deeply and walking around or exercising. Don't let her go to bed for another five to six hours." "You're coming with me," Clark told her, and was surprised that she did not put up a protest at all. Once outside, Clark spun into his suit and picked her up in his arms. "Let's go on a little trip," he told her, as he flew her up into the sky. "Since the doctor said that plenty of fresh air is the best thing for you, I have an idea." Lois smiled at him but shivered slightly. Using his heat vision, Clark warmed her up and headed south. They reached a warm secluded beach south of Puerta Vallarta, Mexico, and he spun back into Clark's clothing. "Let's just walk," he told her, taking her hand. *********** *********** Kansas City, Kansas Thursday, January 13, 1994 11:50 p.m. Vivian Cox boarded the red eye flight from Kansas City to Los Angeles. She looked at her watch as she sat down and buckled herself in. The flight should get her into LAX at about 1:15 a.m. Pacific Standard Time. That would allow her time to arrive at the hotel and get maybe six hours sleep before the 9:00 a.m. opening session at the Conference Center. Vivian was pleased that she could be of help to her husband and represent Smallville at the small town mayors' conference. She had hopes of trying to convince the planners that such a conference should be held in rotating small towns around the country in lieu of major cities. She understood that hosting such a convention would be difficult due to its size, but what a boon it would be to each town. She settled back into the seat and closed her eyes. *********** *********** Playa Olas Altas, Mexico Friday, January 14, 1994 4:30 a.m. CST Lois leaned back into Clark's arms as they lay against a small boulder on the beach. It felt so good to be there with the warm breeze, the sound of the surf, Clark's scent and his gentle strength enveloping her. Clark pulled Lois even closer to him and kissed the top of her head. Lois turned her face up to him, and kissed him. She sighed into the kiss as she opened her mouth and let his tongue explore. They pulled apart reluctantly and Lois reached up and removed his glasses and put them in his pocket. She softly caressed his face as she memorized each and ever facet of it--his eyes so gentle and full of desire, his chin so strong and sure and his lips, so soft and inviting. She kissed him again. Lois held her hand up and looked at her ring yet another time. She would never get tired of doing that. Then she looked up at her future husband. "I never thought I could be so happy," she said. "You make me feel so complete." "Lois, you make me feel so many things and all at once," Clark told her as he gently stroked her shoulder. "Happy. But kinda scared, too. Excited...calm...lost... found." He paused and looked deeply into her eyes as Lois reached up and ran her hand through his hair. "I feel safe in a way that I've never known," Clark continued. "But in danger, too. This thing between us, whatever it is....it's stronger than me. Being with you is stronger than me alone. That's new to me," he finished, and pulled her into his arms and kissed her, deeply, passionately. Once again, they unwillingly pulled apart. "Uh...we...have to...," Clark began. "Hmmmm...yes...I know..." Lois finished dejectedly. "School in..." she said looking at her watch, "...three hours." Clark spun back into Superman and lifting her in his arms, he sped them back to Smallville. *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Friday, January 14, 1994 3:30 p.m. CST Keith, Emily, Cindy and Tom were congregated around a large table at the Smallville High School Library. "Hey, Emily. I heard about your Aunt," Tom Mock said. "Is she okay?" "Yeah, Tom. She's fine. It was really funny, though." "Why?" Keith asked. "Well, Aunt Vivian just had her car checked by my brother over at the garage where he works," Emily explained. "Ben said it was in top notch condition--nothing wrong with the brakes." "That is strange," Cindy agreed. "But not as strange as the stuff I found on the Bartas." "Yeah," Keith Haley replied. "We should get to work. I gotta go cover a basketball game for the paper tonight, and we gotta lot to do." "You start, Emily," Tom suggested. "You researched Laslo and Lillian." "Well," Emily Cox began. "Laslo Barta came to the United States in 1871, when he was just nine years old. He and his family made their money peddling snake oil remedies. They went from town to town mostly around Missouri, Arkansas and Kansas selling stuff that grew hair, or stopped rheumatism or kept you young." "Yuck," Cindy said. "I remember some TV shows telling the story of those traveling peddlers, they were sleazes." "Go on," Keith encouraged Emily. "Well in 1880 when Laslo was eighteen, the family arrived here in Smallville and were promptly escorted out of town by Sheriff Kent." "Sheriff Kent?" Cindy Brady asked. "Uh huh," Emily replied. "Mr. Kent's great-great grandfather. There was a whole line of Kent marshals and sheriffs. Mr. Kent's father was the first one who didn't go into the family business." "So how did Laslo wind up staying here?" Tom asked. "Lillian Langworthy," she said smiling. "They saw each other and fell in love instantly. She hid him in her father's barn. He never left." "Wow!" Cindy said. "He was only eighteen. Right?" "And she was sixteen. They got married really young back then," Emily explained. "Well Laslo and Lillian were married. Laslo worked on her father's farm, but he kept on experimenting on oils and remedies and other brews." "Lavinia was born in 1881 and Leticia was born in 1882," Cindy, who had the assignment of the aunts," interjected. "Right," Emily agreed. "They continued to live with Lillian's father until 1885 when Mr. Langworthy died. Laslo took over the running of the farm, but was never very good at it. They had to sell the farm, and they moved into a small house in town. Lillian worked at the feed store, and Laslo got a job at the pharmacy. He wasn't a trained pharmacist, but he helped out around the store; and in his spare time, kept on experimenting in the back room of the pharmacy." "So what happened?" Keith asked. "How did they get to the big house on Maple street?" "You're not going to believe this," Emily told them. "But Laslo Barton was the one who really invented Coca Cola." "Huh, no way!" Tom exclaimed. "They'd be billionaires. And look how Miss Libby lives." "Well, that's the story, and it's probably only a story," Emily admitted. "I did go on line and I found this." Emily opened a folded sheet of paper and read: "Coca- Cola was invented in May, 1886, by Dr. John S. Pemberton in Atlanta, Georgia. The name `Coca-Cola' was suggested by Dr. Pemberton's bookkeeper, Frank Robinson. He penned the name Coca-Cola in the flowing script that is famous today. Coca- Cola was first sold at a soda fountain in Jacob's Pharmacy in Atlanta by Willis Venable." "So Laslo didn't invent it." Tom said. "The story goes that Dr. John S. Pemberton a pharmacist, stopped in at the pharmacy that Laslo worked at and..." "And what?" Cindy asked. "No one knows for sure," Emily explained. "But Laslo started getting some money from a strange source and neither he nor Lillian had to work again. Laslo designed the Maple Street House and they moved into it in 1887." *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, October 30, 1938 7:23 CST Libby Barton ran back into the living room at 417 Maple Street and then yelled out for those in the kitchen to hear. "Aunt Letty! They're saying that Martians have landed in New Jersey!" "They've got nothing on what's landed here," Letty snorted, looking at her brother, Lloyd. "Now Letty," Lloyd insisted. "You know that I'm not the only strange one in this family," he said as they trooped out into the living room and gathered around the radio. "Listen!" Libby implored. ########### PHILLIPS: . . .I wish I could convey the atmosphere . . . the background of this . . . fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us. Police are trying to rope off the roadway leading to the farm. But it's no use. They're breaking right through. Cars' headlights throw an enormous spot on the pit where the object's half buried. Some of the more daring souls are now venturing near the edge. Their silhouettes stand out against the metal sheen. ########### A faint humming sound came from the radio once again. ########### PHILLIPS: One man wants to touch the thing . . . he's having an argument with a policeman. The policeman wins. . . . Now, ladies and gentlemen, there's something I haven't mentioned in all this excitement, but now it's becoming more distinct. Perhaps you've caught it already on your radio. Listen: ########### There was a long pause before Phillips continued speaking. ########### PHILLIPS: Do you hear it? It's a curious humming sound that seems to come from inside the object. I'll move the microphone nearer. (Another pause) Now we're not more then twenty-five feet away. Can you hear it now? Oh, Professor Pierson! PIERSON: Yes, Mr. Phillips? PHILLIPS: Can you tell us the meaning of that scraping noise inside the thing? PIERSON: Possibly the unequal cooling of its surface. PHILLIPS: I see, do you still think it's a meteor, Professor? PIERSON: I don't know what to think. The metal casing is definitely extraterrestrial . . . not found on this earth. Friction with the earth's atmosphere usually tears holes in a meteorite. This thing is smooth and, as you can see, of cylindrical shape. PHILLIPS: Just a minute! Something's happening! Ladies and gentlemen, this is terrific! This end...the end of the thing is beginning to flake off! The top is beginning to rotate like a screw! The thing must be hollow! VOICES: She's movin'! Look, the darn thing's unscrewing! Keep back, there! Keep back, I tell you! Maybe there's men in it trying to escape! It's red hot, they'll burn to a cinder! Keep back there. Keep those idiots back! Suddenly there was the clanking sound of a huge piece of falling metal. VOICES: She's off! The top's loose! Look out there! Stand back! Ladies and gentlemen, this is the most terrifying thing I have ever witnessed . . . Wait a minute! Someone's crawling out of the hollow top. Someone or . . . something. I can see peering out of that black hole two luminous disks . . are they eyes? It might be a face. It might be . . . ########### *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, January 16, 1994 3:15 p.m. CST The door at the back of the auditorium slammed as a man entered and began walking deliberately down the aisle to the stage. The eleven people sitting on chairs at the Smallville Players audition couldn't make out the person that was entering out of the darkness, due to the fact that the stage lights above them blinded the group. As the man mounted the stairs and strode up onto the stage, he glanced at everyone sharply, instantaneously taking in all that surrounded him. He was obviously a man who was well versed in commanding attention; and he paused, dramatically, while almost a dozen pair of eyes stared at him. The man knew, that given the simpletons in front of him, he had to appear gregarious and become "one of them". He flashed an ingratiating smile. "I sincerely hope that this is the audition for `Arsenic and Old Lace'," he asked them, using as kind and open a tone of voice as his genus could resonate. "I'm sorry to be so late, but as I'm new to your community, I sort of got lost. I hope I'm not intruding?" the man inquired graciously. "No, you're not intruding at all," Martha said quickly, sensing fresh meat--a new man who was interested in theatre. She rose and walked toward him extending her hand in welcome. "And, yes these are the auditions. I'm Martha Kent and I'll be directing this piece. You'll meet the others as we go along. And you're...? "Thurston. Richard Thurston." And noticing an empty seat, he looked back at Martha. "Is it all right if I sit down next to that lovely young lady," he asked indicating Lois Lane. *********** *********** Roswell, New Mexico Tuesday, July 8, 1947 4:00 p.m. MDT Lou Ann Baker, AKA Libby Barton, watched Major Marcel leave the restaurant with Mac Brazell. She put the coffee decanter on the warmer and turned back to the counter. "They're not gonna find flying saucers," Lou Ann told the military officer who had accompanied Major Marcel. "It's all a hoax," she said, wiping off the counter with a damp cloth. "Things aren't as they seem." "You're a lovely young lady," the Captain said to her, changing the subject. "Thank you," Lou Ann responded tentatively, stooping down to get a bag of sugar to refill the shakers. "When do you get off?" "Nine o'clock," she responded as she stood up, amazed that the answer had come so readily. Lou Ann had had no experience with men and really hadn't wanted any. But this man.... Something just attracted her. "I'll pick you up after work, then." "All right," Lou Ann said holding a sugar shaker in her hand and looking across at him as he rose and went toward the door. "By the way," he said turning back. "I haven't introduced myself. Have I?" *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, January 16, 1994 3:10 p.m. CST Martha looked around at the potential cast members. As usual, she was still lacking males, and *again* as usual, she had an extra female or two. Well, there was a lot of backstage work in this show--the women could help there; and, once more, she would have to go out and do the expected arm twisting to drum up some men. "Welcome all!" she exclaimed. "I'm especially happy to see some new faces. Why don't we go around the circle and introduce ourselves?" As the regulars said their name and what they did in real life, Clark stared at the two new participants: Richard Thurston, a complete unknown, and Libby Barton who would definitely be an interesting addition to the group. Clark had grown up knowing the rumors about the Bartons and about Miss Libby in particular. Libby Barton took a gun And shot her family, everyone. Although never participating in it himself as a young boy, he had heard the chants that children had uttered when they passed the house on Maple Street and threw stones at the windows. Keith Haley and Cindy Brady, the youngest members of the Smallville Players' Troupe, introduced themselves while staring at Miss Libby Barton, and then looked at each other. Their project had just become a tad easier as they had automatically obtained almost unlimited access to one of their subjects. "I'm Libby Barton," Miss Libby said, when it was her turn. "I guess most of you know me, if not personally, then by innuendo. I've lived in Smallville pretty much all my life except for a little over ten years when I was unavoidably detained elsewhere." Most of the actors sitting in the circle of chairs fidgeted at first; and then, as they noticed her smile, chuckled a little at her remarks. It appeared that Miss Libby Barton was going to fit right in. She, as with most actors, was just a bit off center. "Since I was a little girl, I've wanted to be an actress; so I'm really looking forward to being involved in this play, if I'm cast, that is," she continued, looking over at Martha. "It appears that `Arsenic and Old Lace' would be right up my alley, as I've always been interested in...in...well, unique characters," she explained, smiling again. As Wayne Irig began his introduction, Lois watched the two new people. Her students had told her about Libby Barton, and it appeared that she was definitely unusual. If she had killed all the members of her family, then she had already paid for her crime. But looking at the elderly lady whose gray hair framed an almost angelic face, Lois found it difficult to believe that Miss Libby was capable of doing anything that macabre. She glanced away from Miss Libby because it was Richard Thurston who now captured her attention....something about him.... Something about Richard Thurston disturbed Clark, as well. He couldn't get a handle on it, but there was something.... While Donald was going on ad infinitum about who he was, parts he had played, etc., Martha thought about how the group had gaped at Libby Barton when she first entered the auditorium. But the actors now seemed to relax, once Miss Libby had spoken. Perhaps her being involved will finally chill all the gossip. Martha, too, had grown up knowing about Libby. But, unknown to most people, Martha had a much closer connection, one that made her understand Libby and want to help. Miss Libby took the opportunity, while eyes had refocused off her and onto Donald Botts, to look around at the members of the Smallville Players. They were a unique group of individuals, but it appeared that there was a feeling of camaraderie there-- a feeling of family--something that Libby had lacked for oh so many years. She had remained practically a recluse, estranged from almost everyone and everything. Her few trips out of the house to the book store or the cemetery where her so-called family was buried were the only exceptions to her hibernation from the world at large. Martha Kent continued to look at all the candidates for parts in the play. But she kept drifting back to Libby Barton. The Smallville Players' director had found it strange, at first, that Libby was interested in being involved with the community theatre group. But this *was* a play about murder and perhaps it was Miss Libby's chance to finally put a lot of things to rest, both for herself and for others. Martha had worried that over the years, Miss Libby had basically become more and more of a hermit whose only outlet was to read about murderers, and monsters. Martha strongly believed in drama being a type of therapy, and albeit a play about one of Libby's favorite subjects, at least it was an opportunity to get her out of that house more often. Libby watched Martha's appraisal of the hopefuls for roles in the play and saw in her the ability to encourage, support and bring out the best in people. For years, Miss Libby's visits to the bookstore were more than just trips to get books, as she could have had them delivered. It was a chance to see Martha Kent and receive a different kind of look than those she sometimes received when she saw the occasional delivery man, series of housekeepers, or the odd tourist that took pictures in front of her house. So she made a foray to the bookstore one or two Saturdays a month to purchase books-- some of which she already had just to see Martha and to hopefully see one more person. Whenever she opened the door of the bookstore and heard the tinkle of the bell, she would pray that he would be there-- Clark. Libby looked over at Clark and when their eyes met, she smiled. She had watched him grow up and realized what an incredible young man he was--the kind of young man she would have liked her....but she couldn't let her mind go there. Now that she was almost seventy years old, she had decided to terminate her self-imposed excommunication and reach out to the world and to do it with Martha and Clark. As Libby looked at Clark, the former recluse remembered what had really been the ultimate deciding factor to alter her life today--to come to the auditions--to reenter the world with a bang--Superman. Superman had chosen to be out there, to dare anyone to ridicule his difference, to set an example. Superman was an alien. Aliens had, it seemed, always impacted her life--that fateful night in 1938, in New Mexico in 1947 and perhaps now. He was an alien from another planet, yet he didn't seclude himself away but opted to, not only make himself a part of this world, but to use his differences to make a difference. Miss Libby smiled again at Clark. Yes Clark had made a difference in this world. Clark, that is, Superman didn't hide--didn't run away from life. ********** ********** Cassville, New Jersey Sunday, October 30, 1938 8:25 p.m. EST Mary looked out the window one last time. David wasn't coming home, at least not during the next few minutes when she needed him so much. There were loud shouts coming from the radio. ########### PHILLIPS: Good heavens, something's wriggling out of the shadow like a gray snake. Now it's another one, and another. They look like tentacles to me. There, I can see the thing's body. It's large, large as a bear and it glistens like wet leather. But that face, it . . . Ladies and gentlemen, it's indescribable. I can hardly force myself to keep looking at it. The eyes are black and gleam like a serpent. The mouth is V-shaped with saliva dripping from its rimless lips that seem to quiver and pulsate. The monster or whatever it is can hardly move. It seems weighed down by . . . possibly gravity or something. The thing's raising up. The crowd falls back now. They've seen plenty. This is the most extraordinary experience. I can't find words . . . I'll pull this microphone with me as I talk. I'll have to stop the description until I can take a new position. Hold on, will you please, I'll be right back in a minute. ANNOUNCER: We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening on the Wilmuth farm, Grover's Mill, New Jersey. We now return you to Carl Phillips at Grover's Mill. PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen (Am I on?). Ladies and gentlemen, here I am, back of a stone wall that adjoins Mr. Wilmuth's garden. From here I get a sweep of the whole scene. I'll give you every detail as long as I can talk--as long as I can see. More state police have arrived. They're drawing up a cordon in front of the pit, about thirty of them. No need to push the crowd back now. They're willing to keep their distance. The captain is conferring with someone. We can't quite see who. Oh yes, I believe it's Professor Pierson. Yes, it is. Now they've parted. The Professor moves around one side, studying the object, while the captain and two policemen advance with something in their hands. I can see it now. It's a white handkerchief tied to a pole . . . a flag of truce. If those creatures know what that means . . . what anything means!. . . Wait! Something's happening! ########### Mary ran into the bedroom and got a small suitcase and packed enough for a night or two. She hurried into the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards. Taking down a jelly jar hidden behind some glasses, she unscrewed the lid and took out the thirty- six dollars and forty-two cents that was there for emergencies. She grabbed Jason and slipped a jacket on him. "We're leaving," she told him. "What about Daddy?" her son asked. "Jason Trask, we're getting out of here now!" *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Friday, October 20, 1993 3:40 p.m. CST Colonel Jason Trask, Jr. starred at Clark Kent. He had come to Smallville to track down a rock--a rock that came from the same planet as that alien, Superman. It was a rock that could kill the extraterrestrial. Trask had been born for this job. His grandfather, David Trask had been a governmental agent searching out the alien horde from across the waters--aliens whose sole purpose was to conquer the United States. His grandmother had been killed in the panic that ensued after Orson Welles' broadcast of `War of the Worlds', leaving his father to be raised by an angry and vindictive man who saw evil in every pocket of dissidents, protestors, and activists. Jason Trask, Sr. had followed his father, David, into the service and had become the chief investigator searching out UFOs in the late 40s and then had helped to start Bureau 39, a covert organization whose sole job was to track down and eradicate aliens and alien activities. Jason, Jr. had joined the service as well and had been attached to his father's unit in 1969. And, like his grandfather and father before him, had seen enemies where there were none; and, this obsession like many obsessions, would prove to be fatal. "I'll make a deal with you, Clark," Trask informed him. "You give up the alien, and I will let you and the others live." "What makes you think I would do that even if I could?" Clark responded glaring at the man in camouflage green. "Because Superman came to Smallville about the same time you were born. There has to be a connection," Trask insisted. "Now tell me and live!" "There's nothing to tell," Clark told him determinedly. "I'm learning all of this for the first time right now." "I'm trying to save humanity from an alien invader!" Trask told him zealously. "You have no proof of that." Clark informed him staring at him steadily. "All right," the federal agent said calming down and circling Clark. "There's another possibility. Perhaps this alien has taken over your mind." Clark looked critically at this man who supposedly worked for the government. Clark thought. "Perhaps he has infused you with his power?" Trask continued. "Nobody has infused me with power and no one has taken over my mind," Clark responded adamantly. "Colonel Trask!" a voice called from outside. "We've found something!" *********** *********** Roswell, New Mexico Tuesday, July 8, 1947 4:00 p.m. MDT "What's your name?" the military officer asked. "Lib...Lou Ann Baker," she replied. "Mine's Jason Trask." *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, January 16, 1994 3:30 p.m. CST Martha Kent scanned over the audition sheets that each of the potential actors had presented to her. As usual Donald Botts saw himself as the comic relief, and had put down that he was interested in the part of Teddy. Clark and Lois had specified Mortimer and Elaine, the two young lovers. Dan Scardino had also stated he was interested in Mortimer. Martha wondered what Clark would think if she cast Dan and Lois together. No, she wouldn't do that--not because Lois and Clark were engaged, but because Dan Scardino just didn't come off well as a young hero--he was more of a sleaze-ball type. Beatrice Drake wanted either of the two aunts--Abby or Martha. As did Libby Barton. The director knew there was going to be one interesting problem with this play. There was a character named Martha and one named Jonathan. She would have to be explicit when talking about the characters of Aunt Martha and Jonathan Brewster so as not to be confused with the real people sitting around the circle. She looked around at the actors who were anxiously awaiting what came next. Then she took another glance at the sheets--most of which she could recite without even reading them. Jimmy, Keith, Cindy, Wayne, and her own husband each had given her carte blanche as to casting. Now for the stranger--the Director of the Smallville Players carefully perused Richard Thurston's sheet. He had had acting experience, the sheet told her, predominantly Shakespearean roles. Then she looked at the line where the auditioner would mention the part he or she was interested in. The character's name, Jonathan Brewster appeared. "Mr. Thurston," Martha said looking at the handsome man across from her. "You selected Jonathan Brewster as the part you would want?" "Call me Richard, Mrs. Kent," he told her. "And, yes. Villains are abundantly much more fun." *********** *********** Rosewell, New Mexico Tuesday, July 8, 1947 10:30 p.m. MDT Trask threw her down on the bed and got on top of her. "Stop! Stop!" Lou Ann yelled out, as he pinned her arms against the mattress.... Please, don't," she cried. "You little tease!" Jason Trask yelled, and slapped her across the mouth. Lou Ann took that opportunity to use her free hand to reach up and scratch his face. Trask's hand abruptly went to his bleeding face as he felt the indentations made by Lou Ann's nails. He sneered and punched her again and again. In her weakened condition, he was able to pry apart her legs. Lou Ann, her lip and one eye bleeding and beginning to swell, looked up into the monstrous face over her and spit at him. Trask punched her one more time, and with that punch came blackness.... *********** *********** Smallville, Kansas Sunday, January 16, 1994 3:35 p.m. CST Martha went over to the light board and altered some settings. At first the stage was plunged into darkness and then the "first electric" lit up to give them a more appropriate atmosphere for the audition. "Okay," she said let's try a scene from Act II first, and I would like to hear some of the new people. Richard, you read Jonathan Brewster, Lois, read Elaine; and Keith, would you read Dr. Einstein just for now. Then I'll try some Aunt Abby and Aunt Martha scenes so I can hear you Miss Libby. We'll start at the middle of page forty-eight with your line, Lois. Do you see it?" "Uh huh." Lois responded, as she and the other two stood up to face the director. "Given that I have a husband named Jonathan, I'm going to call the Jonathan in the play, JB, which should eliminate some confusion, I hope. Anyway, in this scene," Martha explained. "JB has come home after a long absence. He has had plastic surgery done by a drunk Dr. Einstein who had seen the movie of Frankenstein the day before. So JB now looks like Boris Karloff," she said smiling. "What was really funny, of course," Martha continued. "Was that the actor who first played JB on the stage *was* Boris Karloff. That was the joke. Obviously *our* actor w