"OUT OF SIGHT"
By Leigh Raglan lraglan@att.net
Rated PG-13

First published -- January 23, 1995 Revised & Resubmitted 
January 6, 2004

Copyright (C) 1995, 1998, 2004 by Leigh Raglan All Rights 
Reserved

The following story was inspired by the original preview for 
second season episode #12, "The Eyes Have It" (broadcast at the 
end of episode #11 "Chi Of Steel"), and includes some of the 
scenes shown in the preview. I completed the first draft prior 
to viewing "The Eyes Have It" on January 22, and finished the 
story on January 23, 1995. The story takes place before Lois 
learns that Clark is Superman.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	The communications satellite orbited the Earth over the 
North American continent, sending down transmission signals to 
one of the largest cable companies in the United States.

	A thin laser beam shot up through the atmosphere and out 
into space intercepting the satellite. Within seconds it went 
from being a fully functional communications satellite to an 
orbiting piece of junk. Down in Metropolis, 93 cable channels 
instantly went out.

	In the middle of a laboratory ten miles outside the heart 
of the city, a tall thin man with a receding hairline and a 
pair of glasses with thick lenses smiled with satisfaction as 
his audience, who had been watching on a large monitor, now 
began clapping. His eyes surveyed the Middle Easterners in 
their Arab robes, the Indians, North Koreans, and the delegates 
from former Russian states.

	"Thus concludes our weapons demonstration, gentlemen," he 
said.

* * * * * *

	Lois Lane was seated at her desk in the Daily Planet 
newsroom typing some new contacts into her computer address 
book when she saw Clark Kent come in.

	"Morning, Clark," she said cheerily as he passed by her 
desk.

	"Morning, Lois," he responded somewhat despondently.

	"What's the matter? Lumpy mattress last night?"

	"No. The cable went out right in the middle of a Cowboys 
game."

	"Oh," Lois said immediately losing interest.

	Clark shook his head. "Didn't your set go out, too, Lois? 
There was nothing on any channel last night after 9:45."

	"I don't know, Clark. I was watching a travel 
videocassette about Corfu, Patmos, Santorina, and Rhodes which 
has a well-preserved medieval town. Maybe you've heard of them? 
They're Greek Islands and--"

	"Okay, okay," he said. "I know where they are, Lois. I've 
BEEN to them."

	"Sorry, Clark," she smiled. "I sometimes forget you're a 
world traveler and you didn't just arrive here right off the 
farm." She then laughed at his serious expression. "Just 
kidding. You look like you've at least been to London and had 
tea and scones at the Savoy."

	He grinned back at her.

	Lois then handed him the sports section. "The Cowboys 
won. No surprise, Clark. Don't they always? I don't see what 
all the excitement is in watching if you know what the outcome 
is going to be."

	Clark stood with his hands on his hips just shaking his 
head. "Sometimes I'd like to get my hands on you--"

	"Really, Clark?"

	"And just throttle you," he finished.

	"So did you call the cable company to find out what 
happened?"

	"Yeah. They had a recording which said their satellite 
went on the blink, but they were working to restore service as 
soon as possible on an alternate backup satellite. 'We're sorry 
for the inconvenience.'"

	He went off to fetch some coffee and a couple of donuts 
before going to his desk. He had barely sat down when the phone 
rang. After chatting for a couple of minutes, Clark hung up and 
looked at Lois.

	"Guess what?" he said.

	"What?" she replied.

	"That was Mayson Drake, remember her?"

	"Don't remind me," Lois rolled her eyes at the memory of 
the sultry blonde Assistant D.A. who had the hots for Clark 
back when they were investigating the international crime 
organization dubbed Intergang. "What did she want?"

	"Well, it seems that our good friend Baby Rage is out. 
She thinks somebody with connections greased a few palms to get 
him released."

	Lois looked at Clark with concern. "You better be 
careful. He may come gunning for you. He threatened you before 
the trial."

	Clark smiled inwardly, pleased she cared. "I don't think 
Baby Rage wants Superman breathing down his neck if anything 
were to happen to me."

	"Still, Clark. You can't be too careful. That thought 
won't do you much good if he gets you."

	"I'll be careful, I promise."

	"Anything else?"

	"Yes. Mayson has dug up some more material on Intergang. 
Wanted to meet with us late this afternoon."

	"Us? She wants to meet with us? I would have thought she 
would want to meet with you alone, Clark."

	"Well, you thought wrong, Lois. She said and I quote, 
'you and Lois Lane,' unquote."

	"Amazing. I thought she wanted you all to herself."

	"Jealous?" he asked knowing she'd deny it no matter what 
her true feelings.

	Lois started to say, Are you kidding, Kent, but stopped 
herself. If she really cared for him she better start letting 
him know it and stop pretending she didn't have any feelings, 
or someone like a Mayson Drake might well come along and snatch 
him away right from under her.

	"Well, Lois?" Clark asked watching her intently and 
noting her hesitation.

	"Maybe."

	He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe, huh. Ah hah."

	"'Ah hah' nothing, Kent. Now don't go getting all worked 
up into a lather reading something into something which isn't 
there in the first place. I just think you shouldn't waste your 
time with Mayson."

	"I shouldn't?"

	"No."

	"Well, Lois, don't worry. For your information I wasn't 
planning to."

	"You weren't?" Lois looked up her, her face lit as if by 
a thousand watt bulb.

	Clark felt a thrill run through him at the sight of it. 
"Well, if I wasn't planning to before I said that, I most 
definitely am not now," he smiled at her. Their eyes locked for 
a few seconds as something passed between them. He saw Lois' 
face flush turning a pretty shade of pink.

	"Lois--"

	The phone on her desk started to ring, abruptly killing 
the special moment. She grabbed for the receiver and said 
breathlessly, "Lois Lane."

	"Ah, Lois Lane. My name is Dr. David Battleboro. You 
don't know me, but I worked with Alan Morris at Luthor 
Technologies before it was dismantled."

	"Alan Morris? Oh, yes. He was the one who developed the 
invisible man costume. How is he?"

	Clark looked up with interest and activated his 
superhearing.

	"Morris? Oh, he's fine. He's working for Star Labs now."

	"Oh, well good. How can I help you, Dr. Battleboro?"

	"Well, it really is quite simple, Ms. Lane. Meet me in 
Kirby Park tonight at seven."

	"Why, Dr. Battleboro? I would have to know what this is 
all about. I'm very busy. I don't--"

	"It's about Clark Kent, Ms. Lane."

	"Cla--" Lois glanced at Clark who quickly looked away 
before she noticed he had been watching her. He continued to 
listen intently.

	"Clark?" Lois whispered into the phone holding her hand 
over her mouth to muffle it.

	"It's life or death, Ms. Lane. His."

	"What?"

	"I suggest you come alone. Don't tell Mr. Kent. Don't 
contact the police. Just get in touch with the big blue boy 
scout with the red cape if you don't want to be wearing black 
sometime soon." The phone clicked.

	Lois stared at the receiver before hanging it up.

	"Who was that?" Clark asked getting up from his desk and 
coming towards her.

	"Oh nothing," she said biting her lip and trying to sound 
flippant. She didn't want to worry him especially not now that 
Baby Rage was out on the loose. She also knew he wouldn't let 
her go by herself to the park if he knew about the phone call. 
She turned to her computer and began typing blindly into it. 
Clark watched her type a line of garbage as her fingers were 
aligned incorrectly on the keypad.

	"It doesn't look like nothing, Lois." He sat down in the 
chair next to her desk. "I'm your partner, remember, not to 
mention your best friend. You look like someone just told you 
your best friend was about to die."

	Lois nearly jumped out of her seat. "W-what! H-how do 
you--I mean what made you say a thing like that?" She started 
typing furiously but the text was completely riddled with 
typos.

	"The expression on your face, Lois. You're as white as a 
sheet. Literally. Also, your typing. That's not a language I 
recognize," he said gently.

	She looked up at the screen, noting the mess she had 
made. "It was nothing. Really, Clark."

	Impulsively, Clark reached out for her hand and took it 
in his. "Lois, you can tell me."

	She gazed at him a moment, "I--I can't tell you. It's 
life threatening. B-but it's not my life," she added hastily 
seeing his concern. Then, lowering her eyes, her voice fell 
into a whisper, "Just someone I care about."

	Clark heard it and his eyes widened. His grip on her hand 
tightened.

	Speaking louder Lois added, "But I won't be able to go 
with you now to meet with Mayson. Want to postpone that until 
later?"

	He stared at her a minute, then nodded. "Okay. Need me to 
contact Superman?"

	"No!" she said a bit too sharply. "No, thanks. I can 
contact him--if I need him."

	"I thought you didn't like falling out of windows, Lois," 
he said jokingly trying to get her to lighten up.

	"Clark, I don't have to fall out of windows to get 
Superman's attention," Lois replied trying to smile. She 
squeezed his hand gently then slid hers out of his. She turned 
back to her computer and began correcting her typos.

	"No, Lois," he said very quietly to himself as he walked 
back to his desk, "you don't."

* * * * * *

	Clark arrived at Kirby Park ten minutes ahead of Lois and 
set up a position to watch the rendezvous. He was ready to 
spring into action as Superman if the need arose. Since 
Battleboro had ordered Lois to appear with Superman, Clark felt 
certain his services would be needed.

	He watched as Lois arrived in her silver Jeep Cherokee 
and parked it. She looked exceedingly nervous. He imagined she 
must be knowing that she was suppose to be there with Superman, 
yet was coming alone. He had to admit, she had nerve. He had to 
also remember, she was doing all this for him, Clark. The 
thought made his heart swell.

	A black minivan pulled up down the block and two men got 
out. The taller one was bespectacled. He also was thin and had 
a receding hairline. He carried a device in his hand which 
looked a lot like miniature flashlight of some sort. Clark 
tried to x-ray it but discovered it had a lead casing. Not 
good.

	The other man was shorter, stockier. He had a gun stuck 
in his waistband and carried a standard size flashlight with a 
black casing. He approached Lois, switched on the flashlight 
and pointed the beam in her face, blinding her.

	"Ms. Lane," he said.

	"Yes," she said warily, squinting into the light.

	"I'm John Needle."

	"I can't say I'm pleased to meet you," she said and held 
a hand up to her face trying to shield it from the light. It 
was obvious they didn't want her to clearly see them.

	"This is my friend and associate Dr. David Battleboro."

	"Good evening, Ms. Lane," the man in the glasses said.

	"I don't there's anything good about it. What do you 
want?"

	"You're alone," Battleboro said.

	"You're observant," Lois said. "I couldn't contact 
Superman. I don't know how. I couldn't very well tell Kent to 
do it considering your threat. So why don't you just tell me 
what this is all about."

	"I thought Superman tended to show up in emergencies, Ms. 
Lane, emergencies involving you," Needle said.

	"Well, he certainly seems to, but I honestly don't know 
how he knows. Maybe he's psychic or something. I could try 
screaming if you like. That's been known to work."

	"You know," Needle said, "This really is too bad. We 
wanted him to be here."

	"Sorry," Lois said. "Now what's this about Clark?"

	"Well," Battleboro replied, "Clark is now dead, since you 
didn't keep your end of the bargain."

	"That's ridiculous. Why would you want to kill Clark?"

	Ignoring her question Battleboro continued, "And, I 
think, so are you."

	Needle pulled the gun from his waistband, aimed and 
fired. In a blur of violet, Superman landed between Lois and 
Needle blocking her with his body. The projectile bounced off 
his invulnerable body and fell on to the ground. He realized it 
wasn't a bullet at all but a kind of dart like the sort used in 
blowguns. The tip had probably been dipped in something.

	"Superman," Lois breathed.

	"Superman," Battleboro said smiling before pressing a 
button on his miniature "flashlight." Suddenly two exceedingly 
high-powered thin red laser-like beams were emitted. They 
struck Superman directly in his eyes. He could feel the heat. 
He blinked but didn't look away not sensing any danger emitting 
from the beam. He was, however, annoyed. Concentrating, he 
tried to activate his heat vision at the device, but found it 
wasn't working. Now he endeavored to look away but couldn't. 
There was something almost hypnotic about the light. He 
realized he was staring at it. It suddenly went out and he 
found he was seeing red blotches on a black background. He felt 
like he was blinded. He couldn't see anything clearly. 
Everything seemed dark and filled with red spots.


	Needle and Battleboro turned to leave.

	Lois shouted, "What about Clark?"

	"Clark?" said Battleboro. "Oh, he'll be just fine now 
that Superman appeared. That threat was simply the bait to get 
you and Superman here since I know you two are good friends of 
his. We didn't want him. We wanted Superman."

	"You wanted Superman. Why? You haven't done anything. I 
don't get it."

	"You will, Ms. Lane, you will. Good night," Battleboro 
said.

	"Superman, you've got to stop them," Lois said running 
out from behind him. She then noticed that he was standing 
rooted on the ground not moving, his eyes tightly closed. He 
opened them, stared a minute out into space. He still couldn't 
see clearly although the red spots were slowly beginning to 
fade away. He squeezed his eyes shut again.

	"All you all right?"

	"I--I think so," he said reopening them. He shook his 
head. "I'm sure I'll be fine in a moment. What's this about 
Clark?"

	"Just that they threatened to kill him if I didn't come 
here. They didn't say what any of this was about. They also 
wanted you to be here but I didn't know how to get in touch 
with you."

	"And did you tell Clark?"

	"No. I thought he might interfere and not let me come, or 
not let me come alone. I didn't know if he would bother telling 
you about this, either. If I told him he might have come here 
on his own. I wouldn't want to risk losing him again."

	"You care for him?" Superman asked gently.

	Lois looked at him and nodded. "Yes," she replied simply, 
"but the confusing thing is that I care for you, too, just as 
much. I don't quite understand how that could be. I'm so mixed 
up."

	He smiled. "I know," he said softly, "but don't worry. 
Everything will work out in the end, it always does, you know."

	Lois looked up and noticed some tears running down his 
cheeks.

	"You're crying!"

	Superman wiped his cheeks. "My eyes are burning just a 
bit. The light they shined into them was pretty intense. It 
seemed brighter than the sun."

	"Are you going to be all right?"

	He looked back at her. Lois' face was going in and out of 
focus but the red splotches were gone now. He blinked and 
squeezed his eyes shut again for a moment. When he opened them 
he said, "S-sure. I'll be fine. I'll be seeing you, Lois," 
Superman said. He raised his arm and slowly lifted off into the 
sky. He rose a few feet into the air, stopped, then drifted 
back down.

	"Superman?"

	"Lois! I--I--I c-can't s-see very well." He reached up 
and began rubbing his eyes with his knuckles trying to clear 
them.

	She came over to him and looked up into his eyes. "You 
mustn't rub. That could only make them worse. Let me take a 
look."

	Superman lowered his hands and tried to stare at her. Her 
face was completely blurry.

	"Try and look at me." She stared up at him. His normally 
clear brown eyes were very bloodshot, watery, and they looked 
out-of-focus. He wasn't really looking directly at her. He 
wasn't making eye contact. "Can you see me?"

	"Sort of, but you're kind of fuzzy. Those guys blinded me 
with some sort of light beam. I'm sure it'll wear off pretty 
quickly, but in the meantime--"

	"Why don't you come with me." She put a hand on his arm 
to help guide him. "You could stay at my place until it clears 
up."

	"Lois, I--"

	"You can't go flying about if you can't see."

	The last thing Clark wanted to do was stay with Lois when 
he was so vulnerable like this and wearing the suit. As of 
late, he had been doing everything in his power to turn her 
away from Superman and towards his real self. It seemed to be 
working, they were starting to get closer. But staying with her 
as Superman would only serve to reset things between them 
again, to keep Lois more interested in the guy in the blue 
suit. She'd never get over Superman if he kept interacting with 
her while wearing the costume. He felt like he was just about 
on the brink of having a romantic relationship with her as 
Clark, a relationship which he had been longing for, for such a 
long time, right from the first day he met her. Why did this 
have to happen now? It would spoil everything. Talk about lousy 
timing.

	"I--I'll be fine, Lois. Thanks for your offer, but I'll 
be fine." He took a few steps forward and stumbled. She caught 
hold of him.

	"You are not fine, Superman. You can't fly like this. 
It's too dangerous."

	"B-but--"

	"But nothing. What if you hit a plane or something 
because you didn't see it? You can't put lives at risk like 
that. You know it. Please come with me. As soon as we get to my 
place I'll try to get in touch with Clark. I'm sure he could 
help if you feel awkward about being alone with me."

	"Lois, it's not that--"

	"Well the last time, you know--" she said remembering how 
Superman removed her hands from his shoulders when she wanted 
to get closer to him. He had told her he thought she and Clark 
were lucky to have each other. He had clearly been rejecting 
her. Now he might feel very uncomfortable about being alone 
with her in this helpless state.

	"I know, Lois." He tried to smile. "Where's your car?"

	She smiled back. "This way." Taking him by the arm she 
slowly led him over to her jeep parked at the curb a block 
away. When they reached it, Lois unlocked the doors and reached 
into the back seat. She pulled out a trench coat. "Here, put 
this on. It's Clark's. He left it here. It ought to fit you. 
You both are about the same build. We don't want to run the 
risk of somebody recognizing you unless you want to lie down on 
the floor in the back seat."

	"No. That's okay. I'd rather wear the coat." Clark tried 
to keep a straight face as he slipped into HIS coat. Lois was 
now noticing they were the same build. What else was she 
noticing? he wondered.

	"Here, let me help you," she offered, noticing Superman 
was fumbling with the buttons. She buttoned him all the way up 
to the neck. His long cape stuck out the bottom along with his 
red boots, but it wasn't the sort of thing someone would notice 
when he was sitting in the passenger seat and, once they reach 
her apartment, they wouldn't be walking about on the street. 
Lois opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of 
sunglasses which she handed to him.

	"What's this for?" he asked squinting at them, barely 
able to identify what they were.

	"Well someone might recognize your face."

	"Isn't someone going to think it strange seeing me in 
sunglasses at night?"

	"Well at least they won't recognize you. It's too bad 
Clark isn't here or maybe he could lend you his glasses."

	He nearly choked at the thought wondering how much like 
Clark he would resemble with the sunglasses on. Would Lois 
suddenly notice the likeness? The last thing he wanted was for 
her to put it all together before she had come to terms with 
her true feelings for him as Clark, before anything romantic 
happened between them. Otherwise, he would never be sure if she 
loved him for being Clark or loved him for being Superman. This 
was assuming, of course, she loved him at all once she knew the 
entire truth and realized he'd been lying to her, keeping his 
secret from her for so long. For someone who lied all the time 
herself, Lois did not like being lied to, especially not by 
him. She viewed Superman as truth and justice through and 
through. She thought of Clark as a Kansas farm boy--never mind 
he had traveled round the world for years living out of a 
suitcase-- while she was the city sophisticate, the Metropolis 
girl, who had to lie to survive. If anything, with all his 
world traveling Clark was more cosmopolitan than she was, but 
Lois would be the last to admit that.

	Lois helped Superman into the passenger seat, closed the 
door, and ran around to the driver's side to get in. He reached 
up for the seat belt and tried to get the metal tab into the 
slot by feeling what he was doing. Noticing him struggling with 
it, Lois reached out and took it from him.

	"Here, let me," she said sliding the tab into the slot 
with a click. Seeing he was still holding the sunglasses in his 
hand, she took them away from him and stuck them on his face. 
She started and stared at him. There was something very strange 
and yet very familiar about the way Superman looked in the 
glasses.

	Superman could sense she was staring at him. "What's the 
matter, Lois?" he asked suddenly feeling rather nervous. He 
prayed she wouldn't notice the resemblance to Clark.

	"I'm sorry. It's just so weird. When I put the glasses on 
you, for an instant you looked a whole lot like Clark." She 
then stuck the key into the ignition and turned on the engine. 
"Isn't that ridiculous?"

	"It sure is," he said softly closing his eyes. He 
couldn't think about that right now. He was in too deep with 
Lois in this situation and he needed her help whether he liked 
it or not. He would just have to try and be as super-like as he 
could be despite his disability. While he wanted to slouch down 
comfortably in the seat with his head propped against the 
headrest and his eyes closed, he knew he mustn't start acting 
or talking remotely like Clark or she was bound to make the 
connection. Superman had never done anything normal with Lois 
before except for the time he danced with her. Even then, he 
levitated dancing with her in midair.

	As soon as she pulled the car away from the curb, he 
removed the glasses and held them in his lap.

	Lois noticed immediately. "You're not going to wear them, 
huh? You're being difficult."

	"No," he said.

Me difficult, Lois? Talk about the pot calling the kettle 
black, he thought. "They feel strange on my face. I'm 
unaccustomed to wearing them." Brilliant, Clark. He 
congratulated himself. That statement separated him from Clark 
who wore glasses all the time.

	"But I thought you were invulnerable?" Lois said.

	"I am, Lois, but that doesn't mean I don't feel things. I 
just don't feel pain or suffer injury. The glasses don't hurt, 
it just feels weird wearing them. Also, the lenses are very 
dark. I'm not used to looking through tinted lenses. Besides, I 
want to be able to see as much as I possibly can right now in 
case my vision should come back suddenly."

	"Oh." Lois continued driving in silence. From time to 
time she glanced at him. She had such a odd feeling every time 
she saw his profile. She couldn't get the notion out of her 
head, Superman looks a bit like Clark at this angle, isn't that 
strange?

	They reached her apartment building without any mishap. 
Superman had difficulty navigating the flight of steps up the 
front of the brownstone since he was unable to see them. He had 
to hold on to Lois and clutch the railing as he cautiously felt 
his way along. Lois guided him inside to her apartment.

	Once they were inside, she led him over to a sofa. 
Superman removed the coat and handed it to her, then he sat 
down gingerly, reaching out behind him with his hand to make 
sure he didn't miss the sofa and land on the floor.

	Lois put Clark's trench coat on a chair near the door, 
dropped her bag on the floor, then removed her own coat. She 
stood and watched Superman for a moment in silence. He looked 
so defenseless sitting there with that strange faraway look in 
his bloodshot eyes. She had never seen him so helpless like 
this before except when he encountered kryptonite. But on those 
two occasions, he had recovered quickly. Whatever Battleboro 
had done to Superman's eyes, it was in a class by itself.

	"Can I get you anything? A cool compress. Something to 
drink? Water? Soda? Juice? Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?"

	"I'm not hungry, Lois--"

	"That's right, I'm sorry. I remember now, you only eat 
when you want to."

	She felt so useless. How did he feel? Were his feelings 
anything like that of a human? Did he get hot or cold? He was 
completely invulnerable and able to fly out into space. What 
was that like? she wondered. But he looked so human. He felt so 
human when she touched him. He was quite warm to the touch. His 
kisses had been just as passionate. No, they had been more 
passionate when he was under the pheromone compound than those 
of any man who had ever kissed her, except for Clark that one 
time they kissed in the honeymoon suite. There she was going 
again comparing the two men. Yet it was hard not to ever since 
Superman had told her that she and Clark were lucky to have one 
another, and since prior to that she herself had commented to 
Clark that Superman was a whole lot like him. Lois now found 
herself comparing them all the time.

	She sat down on the sofa opposite Superman. "I just wish 
I knew who those two guys were," she said.

	"Me, too, Lois. But you can be sure that when I'm well, 
I'll find them."

	"It was a trap. They wanted you all along, I think. Not 
Clark."

	He nodded.

	"I just don't understand how that could affect you. 
You've flown in space and looked at the sun, haven't you?"

	"I've never looked directly at the sun, Lois. I never 
wanted to take the chance of blinding myself. So I don't know 
if I could or not."

	"What about the time when you took the Superman clone to 
the sun?"

	"I still didn't look at it. I could feel the heat and the 
brightness with my eyes closed. I let that guide me."

	"I see--I'm sorry, bad choice of words--I--I mean, I 
understand. I'm sure you will be okay," she said trying to 
sound reassuring. "If you can recover from kryptonite--"

	"I'll only stay for a little while just until my vision 
clears a bit. It shouldn't take long. I'm sure everything will 
be fine by tomorrow." Superman lifted his arm. It hit a table 
lamp sending it crashing to the ground. "Oh! I'm so sorry, 
Lois!" He looked positively mortified.

	Lois got up and quickly crossed to him taking his hands 
in hers. "Please don't worry about the lamp, Superman. It 
wasn't expensive or anything." She gazed up into his eyes. They 
were unfocused and he seemed to be looking beyond her. "Can you 
see me at all?"

	He turned and looked at her. Her features were a bit 
fuzzy but he could make them all out, her face wasn't a total 
blur.

	"Yes, just not too clearly. Perhaps if I just lie here 
and rest a bit."

	"You can't lie here--I--I mean you wouldn't be 
comfortable 'cause the sofa's way too short. I'll take the 
couch. You can have my bed."

	He looked up at her sharply and she felt him start. 
"Lois!"

	"No arguments."

	"I won't argue, Lois," he smiled. He knew her sofa was 
too short for him to stretch out on comfortably. He also found 
the thought of lying on her bed extremely appealing.

	"Here let me help you." She took his arm and carefully 
guided him through the living room and kitchen to her bedroom. 
He sat down on the edge of her large bed. "Are you sure you 
don't want anything to drink or something?"

	Lois was trying so hard to help and there was nothing she 
or anyone else could do for him. He knew she wanted to do 
something so he said, "Well, maybe a cool compress on my eyes 
would help a bit and a glass of ice water."

	"Oh, yes, sure." She jumped right up happy to have an 
assignment to do anything that might make him more comfortable.

	Clark closed his eyes and tried to relax. It was so 
difficult trying to be Superman when he was dealing with an 
injury. He wanted to go home, get out of the costume, take a 
long extremely hot shower, put on some comfortable clothes, 
maybe play some soothing music on the stereo, and try to relax 
completely. He couldn't do any of these things with Lois about. 
He was even afraid of falling asleep although he wasn't tired. 
What if his hair got mussed up and started looking like the way 
he wore it as Clark? What if he talked in his sleep? He didn't 
think he did that because one night as an experiment he left a 
voice activated tape recorder on all night, and the next 
morning there was nothing on it except the sounds of his 
shifting in bed.

	The thought of his apartment made him think of his 
parents who were back in town staying with him. He wished he 
could call them from here, let them know where he was, but that 
would just be too complex. He didn't want to have to dream up 
some lie to tell Lois of why he was calling Clark and why Clark 
wasn't at home.

	Lois returned with the compress and the water. He was 
barely able to see her well enough to take the glass from her 
hand. After drinking from it he handed it back to her, not 
trusting himself to set it on the table without mishap.

	"Thanks, Lois. You'd make a good nurse."

	She grinned. "Not really. I'm squeamish at the sight of 
blood."

	He moved back on the bed and rested his head on the 
pillows. Lois placed the cool compress over his eyes.

	"Thanks," he said. "I'll be all right if I just rest a 
bit. I should be back to normal pretty soon."

	"Sure." Lois looked at him longingly for a moment. She 
stared at his parted lips wanting to bend down and kiss them, 
remembering how soft and warm they were. No! He's rejected me 
twice now. He wouldn't want me to, he'd just want to leave, and 
he's in no condition to go out by himself.

	Clark could hear her standing there. He wondered what she 
was thinking. After a moment's hesitation he heard her slowly 
walk away. She went and opened several different drawers to get 
some things, then he heard her go into the bathroom and close 
the door.

	Now alone at last his body finally was able to relax. He 
stretched, reaching his left hand back across the back of the 
bed. It came into contact with something soft and furry. It 
felt like a stuffed toy of some kind. Clark picked it up and 
pulled it up close to his face. Lifting the compress he 
squinted to see what the object was. He started. It was the 
little stuffed bear he had won for her oh so long ago when they 
were in Smallville together during the corn festival He had 
rung the bell with the hammer and this had been the prize she 
selected. Much to his surprise, Lois had picked the bear over 
an ugly Superman doll. Clark smiled as he thought, she loves 
me. She loves me not. She loves me. Maybe.

* * * * * *

	Dr. David Battleboro leaned back in his chair with a 
great deal of satisfaction and said, "Superman is out of 
commission."

	"So you keep saying, David," John Needle replied. "I 
don't see how we know that. Tell me that a week from now when 
no one has seen or heard from the Man Of Steel. Also, we don't 
have Ms. Lane. We were suppose to grab her and incapacitate 
him. That was the plan."

	"Plans change. We can always go back and get Lane. You 
worry too much. The laser beam is more powerful than industrial 
strength lasers used in manufacturing. He got a direct shot of 
it in his eyes. Did you see the way he blinked? He was stunned. 
We decided that we must find a way to neutralize Superman. We 
did. I think we've achieved meltdown. Without his vision, 
Superman is out of action, permanently."

	"If you say so, but he could learn to cope. Blind people-
-"

	"Visually impaired, John."

	"Visually impaired--if you must be politically correct, 
like who gives a damn--people function quite well. And you have 
to remember he's got superhearing." Needle was crossing and re-
crossing the room.

	"I haven't forgotten. But don't forget the city's fairly 
recent encounter with the Soundman, Lenny Stoke. Superman can 
be quite vulnerable to sound if it is of a sufficiently high 
frequency. If he presents any interference, that could be step 
two. It's hard to reproduce, however, and takes an inordinate 
amount of power. I would only wish to use that as a last 
resort, if he's still giving us trouble."

	"Or you could just go and kill his best friends. That 
would be simpler," Needle said. "I think that Lane woman's 
going to be a problem no matter what. Look what she did to Lex 
Luthor."

	"As I said before, we can go back and get her. Then Lois 
Lane will be eliminated once we can be sure we have nothing to 
fear from Superman," Dr. Battleboro said. "But for now, she's 
more valuable to us alive, than dead. However, I don't want her 
out on the loose looking for trouble. I think we need to keep 
her in our custody. Superman conveniently showed up at the park 
to save the day like we planned. But we must deal with the one 
loose end and get Lane. That will effectively hamstring 
Superman who won't know about her whereabouts and, without his 
sight, won't be able to track her down."

	"And what about her partner, Clark Kent?" Needle said.

	"Oh, we'll kill him. I don't think we need to do that 
right now, however."

	"I hope you know what you're doing, David. Kent is also a 
friend of Superman and, from what I've heard, he is one of the 
few people able to contact him. Also, like Lane, Kent played a 
big part in bringing down Lex Luthor. After only a year or so 
at the Planet he's already an award- winning journalist. That's 
pretty impressive for a mild mannered reporter. Don't 
underestimate him."

	"I don't plan to. But his ability to contact Superman is 
why he is still of use to us. Once Superman is of no threat 
whatsoever, then I think we can let Baby Rage handle Kent. That 
boy would love to tear the newspaperman to pieces. I wouldn't 
dream of depriving him of that pleasure. In the meantime, I 
think it's time to call Ms. Lane again."

* * * * * *

	Lois reread the same paragraph of text in the 
newsmagazine for the umpteenth time. She couldn't concentrate 
on doing anything with Superman lying on her bed in the next 
room. She felt both worried and excited at the same time. Her 
feelings were a complete jumble. She also realized that in all 
the excitement she had never eaten any dinner. Feeling restless 
and hungry she got up off the sofa, picked her cozy pink 
bathrobe off the floor where it had fallen, and pulled it on 
over her comfortable navy-with-white-polka-dots lounge pajamas. 
She then went to the kitchen and opened her refrigerator. As 
she studied its contents, she heard a sound behind her and 
turned around. It was Superman. He was holding on to the wall 
feeling his way along.

	"Lois?"

	"Can you see anything at all?" She went up to him and 
waved her hand in front of his face. Nothing. He didn't even 
blink. His eyes were wide open staring unseeingly out into 
space. He looked so lost, so vulnerable.

	"No, Lois I--I c-can't!" He sounded panic stricken.

	"You mean everything's black?"

	"Well, no, not black. It's just that everything's 
completely blurry like I'm now looking through a thick fog. I 
can't make out anything, even if I squint. Before it would 
fluctuate between being very fuzzy and being just a little bit 
out-of-focus. "

	"Here, why don't you sit down." She took his arm and led 
him to one of the chairs at the dining table. Once he was 
seated she asked, "Want some ice cream? I find that always 
helps me when I'm depressed or upset about something."

	Superman tried to smile, "I don't think ice cream will 
help me, Lois."

	"I know. I just thought it might help take your mind off 
things. It would be a distraction. It's only been a couple of 
hours. You said yourself it might not be until tomorrow that 
your sight improved."

	"But it's not getting better, Lois. It's getting 
progressively worse."

	"Do you think we should call someone, an eye specialist? 
Maybe Clark would know someone. He wears glasses."

	"No, Lois. Not now. I--I want to see how things are in 
the morning. I don't want this getting out that I'm blind."

	"Superman," Lois said as she sat down beside him and took 
his hand, "I won't write about this. I hope you're not worrying 
that I would. Perry would fire me if he knew I didn't, but 
he'll never know, neither will Clark unless you want me to tell 
him. That's why I haven't called him so far."

	"Thanks, Lois. And if this doesn't clear up, if I don't 
get my vision back, I'll see to it you get a scoop--"

	"I don't want a scoop on something like this. I don't 
want to write about your being hurt, Superman."

	"I know, Lois," he said sadly, "but you may not have any 
choice in the matter. We won't be able to keep it a secret 
forever. Not more than a couple of days at the most. If 
Superman stops appearing, I'll have to make a public statement 
explaining why I'm out of action. I would want you to have that 
exclusive--"

	"Please, let's not think it now. You'll probably be honky 
dory in the morning. Are you sure I can't offer you some ice 
cream to cheer you up?"

	"Lois--"

	The phone rang.

	"Excuse me, Superman."

She went to the bedroom to answer it.

"Yes?"

	Superman activated his superhearing to listen in.

	"Remember me, Ms. Lane. It's Dr. Battleboro."

	"You're a monster! I'd like to get my hands on you--"

	"Lois!" Superman called out and stood up from the table 
knocking his chair over. He reached out his hands trying to 
grope his way back to the wall.

	"Ms. Lane. Calm down. I'm calling to give you that 
opportunity."

	"Just name the place and the time and I'll be there. Me 
and the police."

	"No, no, no. I don't think you want to bring them into it 
when your friend in the cape is so vulnerable. I assume he 
can't see at all, correct?"

	"That's a lie! He can see perfectly--"

	"Oh, come now, Ms. Lane. You'd hardly be so upset if he 
was not visually impaired. Blind, to be exact," Battleboro said 
his voice hardening.

	Superman found the wall and started working his way down 
it towards the sound of Lois' voice on the phone. He had to go 
so slowly, afraid he'd break something if he moved too quickly.

	"Lois, let me talk to this guy," he called out.

	"Ah, so he's with you, Ms. Lane. I can hear his voice in 
the background. How cozy. I didn't realize you two were 
lovers."

	"I--I'm NOT--!" Lois sputtered feeling enraged.

	"Calm yourself. Of course you're not. The guy's an alien. 
Probably doesn't function normally anyway. Wouldn't be able to 
get it up, if you know what I mean."

	Lois heard a crash. Superman had just come through the 
bedroom doorway and knocked down a pedestal with an urn sitting 
on top. He was livid.

	"I'd like to kill you, Battleboro," Lois said through 
clenched teeth feeling tears coming into her eyes. She couldn't 
ever remember being so angry before and yet feeling so 
powerless to do anything about it.

	"Not very professional for a journalist. You're suppose 
to remain objective, calm, cool as a cucumber, not get involved 
with your stories."

	"So what do you want? Why are you calling me?"

	"You want the antidote to your super boyfriend's visual 
problems?"

	"You mean there is one?"

	"There's always an antidote."

	"Not necessarily. I don't recall hearing that anyone has 
yet found the cure for cancer."

	"Fair enough. But can you pass up this opportunity to 
find out? What if I'm telling you the truth?"

	"You have a point," Lois said sullenly.

	"Just be out on the street around ten o'clock in front of 
the Daily Planet building. I'll pick you up. And no funny 
business or you won't see your other boyfriend, Clark, again. 
Does he know you're two-timing him and sleeping with the alien, 
or at least trying to? Or is he too mild mannered to care? Or 
maybe he's just gay."

	Superman stumbled his way to Lois and the phone. "Let me 
talk to him!" he said through clenched teeth.

	"Too late, he's hung up." She put the receiver back on 
its cradle. Suddenly she began to cry. "He said some awful 
things to me about you and Clark."

	"I know, I overheard, Lois," Superman said. He reached 
for her and pulled her into his arms. He held her very close as 
she began to sob uncontrollably. Reaching up he stroked her 
soft hair comfortingly.

	"Shh. It's okay, Lois. None of it is true. You know none 
of it is true. He was just trying to provoke you."

	"I think he succeeded," she said in a muffled voice her 
face buried against his shoulder.

	"I think he did, too," he said trying to smile. "We've 
got to come up with some sort of a plan."

	She pulled away from him and went into her closet for 
some clothes to put on. "I've got to meet with him. It's 
simple."

	"No! You can't, Lois."

	"We'll discuss it in a minute when I'm done in the 
bathroom. I'll be right back." She took her clothes and headed 
for the bathroom, but instead of entering it, she doubled back 
through the living room.

	Superman could hear her moving in that direction. "Lois! 
No! Wait!" He turned and tried to find the wall. The toe of his 
boot caught on the edge of a rug. He tripped and fell flat onto 
the floor. "Damn!"

	Lois quickly pulled on her black jeans, a white shirt, 
black jacket, a pair of ankle boots, then grabbed her coat, 
keys, and bag. Clark heard the front door open and shut. He let 
out another curse far worse than the one before. He had to get 
to the phone and call for help. Where in hell was her phone? He 
groped around on the floor trying to find the wire. Finally 
feeling it, he gave it a gentle tug. The phone came crashing 
onto the floor off the dresser beside Lois' bed, knocking over 
another table lamp. At the rate he was going Lois was going to 
have to completely redecorate her apartment.

	Holding the phone inches away from his face and squinting 
at it as hard as he could, Clark was just able to make out the 
keypad. It was enough to be able to know which buttons to press 
to place a couple of phone calls. He was grateful he had 
committed his calling card number to memory. It would make it 
possible for him to charge the calls to his home number so the 
phone numbers would never appear on Lois’ phone bill.

* * * * * *

	Sitting at the dining table in Clark's apartment Martha 
contemplated the move Jonathan just made on the checkerboard. 
She then picked up one of her pieces and jumped five of his men 
around the board then gave herself another king. Jonathan 
grunted. Martha had never been particularly good at this game 
before their last visit to Metropolis a few weeks ago, but all 
the practice she had then had really paid off. Jonathan, on the 
other hand, had not fared as well when he switched tasks with 
Martha. This was why they were now back in Metropolis: 
returning and exchanging a few of the wrong things he bought.

	Clark had told them he could have done all this for them 
if they had just mailed the stuff to him, but they felt with 
his double-duties as Daily Planet reporter and Man Of Steel he 
did more than enough. Just because Clark didn't get tired like 
everyone else didn't mean he didn't need quality time for 
himself away from work. He got precious little of that with the 
long hours at the paper and the constant emergencies requiring 
his superpowers.

	As Jonathan contemplated his next move, the front door 
buzzer went off. They both jumped, startled, and looked at one 
other.

	"Who could that be, I wonder?" Martha asked. "Think it's 
Lois?" They looked at the clock on the VCR. It read 9:30 p.m. 
Ever since she came barging in twice on their last visit 
without knocking, Clark kept the front door locked at all 
times. It had been a close thing the second time she walked in: 
Clark hadn't had on his glasses and had to retrieve them at 
superspeed; and Jonathan was ironing Superman’s cape. If Lois 
had even looked at the ironing board--

	"I'll go and see," Jonathan said getting up. He climbed 
the steps, opened the door to reveal a pretty blonde woman in a 
fashionable grey tweed suit. She seemed startled to see him.

	"Oh! Ah, hi. Uh, I'm Mayson Drake, Assistant D.A. Is 
Clark here? I have some, uh, papers to show him."

	"Hi, Ms. Drake--"

	"Mayson."

	"Mayson," Jonathan smiled looking at her appreciatively. 
"I'm Clark's father, Jonathan."

	She reached out and shook his hand. "How do you do." She 
smiled before looking inquiringly at Martha. "And you are?"

	"Martha. His mother."

	"Uh, well, uh, maybe I ought to try back some other 
time."

	"Nonsense, Mayson. I'm sure Clark would want--" Martha 
began.

	"Martha!" Jonathan said sharply pulling her to one side.

	Martha nodded to Mayson, "Excuse me a moment, will you."

	Mayson smiled at them both and nodded feeling very 
awkward about the situation. She wasn't sure she really wanted 
to spend time with his parents although they seemed to be very 
nice people, very country. But then they were farmers, weren't 
they? It seemed she recalled Clark mentioning that.

	"What is it, Jonathan?" Martha asked when he got her out 
of ear-shot of Mayson into the bedroom.

	"Do you know who that is?"

	Martha shook her head.

	"I think that is the woman Clark was telling us about a 
couple of months ago when he and Lois were investigating 
Intergang. She's the one who he said hated Superman."

	"And isn't she the one who made Lois jealous?"

	"Martha!"

	"Jonathan, this might be a good opportunity to find out 
what exactly it is about Superman she doesn't like."

	"Martha, I don't think Clark's going to want to see her 
here when he returns."

	The phone began ringing and Jonathan went over the pick 
it up.

	"Hello."

	"Dad?"

	"Clark! Where are you, Son?"

	Mayson looked up at the sound of Clark's name, then came 
down the steps towards Jonathan.

	"Dad! I'm in trouble."

	"Uh, Mayson Drake is here with us, Clark."

	"Dad, you've got to get rid of her and get over to Lois' 
right away. I'll need a change of clothes, too. I'm stuck in 
the suit."

	"But Lois--"

	"She's not here. That's another thing. She's gone out on 
her own before I could stop her. She's in danger and I can't 
help her."

	"Let me talk to him, Mr. Kent," Mayson said coming over 
reaching for the phone before Jonathan could stop her.

	"Clark, it's Mayson."

	"Hi, Mayson," Clark said sounding terribly unenthusiastic 
about having to speak with her at the moment. "Could you put my 
dad back on, please."

	"Clark, listen to me. I think you and Lois were right all 
along. I've done some digging and there is all sorts of money, 
unnumbered bank accounts, etc., some of which leads indirectly 
to Bill Church. There are strange scientific experiments, 
lasers, drugs, gun smuggling, weapons technology--"

	"Mayson! I'm sure--I KNOW we'd be interested, but right 
now I'm in a bit of a crises."

	"Oh! Sorry. Uh, well is there anything I can do?"

	"Wait a minute. What was that you were saying about 
scientific experiments and lasers?"

	"Just that Intergang has been funding them. It's almost 
as big as Luthor Technologies used to be, only it's all 
dispersed under a collection of different companies around the 
world instead of consolidated the way Star Labs is or Luthor 
Technologies used to be. But they're doing the same sort of 
stuff including weapons technology, some of which involves very 
high-powered industrial lasers which can be converted for 
military use. There is a rumor that they've found a way to 
miniaturize them and that some are no bigger than flashlights 
but as powerful as full size ones."

	"Industrial lasers," Clark repeated thinking hard. The 
beam from the device had been very laser-like and the device 
firing it looked like a small flashlight. "Have you ever heard 
of a guy by the name of Dr. David Battleboro? Or John Needle?"

	Mayson frowned thoughtfully. "I've never heard of Needle. 
I'm not sure about this David--"

	"Battleboro. He's got some sort of high tech laser-like 
device and it's miniaturized. Something like that would cost a 
fortune to manufacture. I need to track him down somehow. I 
have a hunch he may very well be Intergang related. Who else 
would want Superman out of the way."

	"Superman?" Mayson said.

	Clark then remembered her dislike of the superhero. "S-
sorry, Mayson. I know you dislike Superman."

	"I don't dislike Superman, Clark. I just don't feel quite 
the same way about him everyone else does."

	Martha and Jonathan stared at her, listening intently.

	"I mean I think his powers are awesome and, in the case 
of that meteorite heading towards Earth last year, he risked 
everything to save us. But except for extraordinary 
circumstances like that, on the average, as much as he's 
helped, Clark, what he does isn't half or even a fraction as 
brave as what you did going up against Intergang and testifying 
against Baby Rage, or what a policeman and a fireman do every 
day. These people--you--could have been killed. They face death 
and serious injury daily. Where is the risk to Superman? He's 
invulnerable. It's all child's play to him. There's no bravery 
involved. Do you see my point?"

	"I guess so, Mayson. Nothing is much of a challenge for 
him, I guess. But his presence has saved countless lives even 
if it isn't very brave of him to stand in front of a sniper or 
rush into a burning building."

	"And I don't deny that, the good he does, Clark. I 
realize he volunteers to do all of this, too, and that he's 
very benevolent, caring and has a high standard of morality. 
It's all very commendable provided he doesn't break any laws in 
the process or violate anyone's rights. But I just find it more 
admirable when a normal person who could get hurt does 
something heroic. You know, you, for example. Intergang could 
have put you on a hit list for testifying against Baby Rage. 
Someone could have come and gunned you down. What physical risk 
is Superman ever in by comparison? So far as we know he's 
indestructible."

	Clark cradled the phone against his ear. If only she 
knew. He couldn't even see the fingers on his hand. "Well, this 
Battleboro guy may have found a way, Mayson. He's a total nut 
ball. And he's got a high tech weapon which he's used on 
Superman. He wants Superman out of the way--"

	"He's found a way to kill Superman?"

	"No, just possibly a way to permanently incapacitate him. 
He's also threatened Lois and me. Somehow I've got to track him 
down."

	"Well, let me call a few people. Maybe someone's heard of 
him."

	"Great. Could you put my dad back on, please."

	Mayson handed the receiver back to Jonathan.

	"I'm here, Clark.

	"Dad, you're going to have to come over here to Lois' 
apartment right away. As I said before, Lois is in trouble and 
there's no way I can do this on my own. I'm gonna need your 
help."

	"Okay. I'll come right over. But Clark, what's going on? 
What kind of help do you need, Son?"

	"D-dad. I'm--I'm BLIND!"

* * * * * *

	Lois stood in front of the Daily Planet building and 
looked all about. It tended to be deserted in this section of 
town late at night although there were always people on duty at 
the paper twenty-four hours a day. She knew this was a huge 
gamble. Battleboro was probably just eager to get her as a 
hostage, but she didn't see any alternative. If she could get 
close enough to him and if he had enough of an ego, he might 
explain in detail what it was he had used on Superman's eyes. 
Then it might be possible to figure a way to reverse things. 
Or, perhaps, Superman's eyes would heal themselves the way 
everything else did. She really wished Clark were with her now. 
She envied him sitting in his nice warm apartment with his 
parents eating dinner, watching television or playing games.

	She looked down at her watch again. It was 9:50. Ten more 
minutes to go. She hoped Superman was okay.

* * * * * *

	Clark sat on the bedroom floor propped against the bed 
with Lois' red phone in his lap. He had made his calls. Now he 
didn't know what else to do until Jonathan came. Never in his 
life since infancy had he ever been so helpless. Lois was out 
there on her own and there was no way he could be there for her 
this time. He couldn't navigate his way across a room, much 
less across town. He didn't seriously think that Battleboro 
would kill her, but he probably intended to take her hostage 
and, judging from the phone conversation, he wasn't likely to 
put up with much of Lois' lip. As long as Superman was around, 
Lois was probably safe. But if Superman were to disappear--

	The front doorbell rang.

	Clark stood up and carefully felt for the wall following 
it to Lois' kitchen. As he slowly walked forward with his arms 
outstretched, he concentrated very hard trying to remember the 
layout of the room he had been in so many times. He had just 
made it through the kitchen without mishap when the doorbell 
rang again.

	Clark called out, "Coming!" He tried to move a little 
quicker and walked directly into Lois' sofa upending it. Losing 
his balance, he reached out to grab hold of something to break 
his fall. His hands hit an end table knocking it over. Clark, 
the table and its contents--a stack of books, a heavy Venetian 
glass paper weight, an Oriental table lamp--were deposited on 
the floor with a resounding crash.

	"Superman!"

	Superman? He recognized Martha's voice. That meant they 
weren't alone. Oh, no! Clark sat for a moment on the floor 
trying to collect his thoughts. This was going to ruin 
everything. How could he change back to Clark with anyone else 
here? He wanted so badly to talk frankly to his parents, to ask 
their advice, to hear their comforting voices. Instead, he 
would have to try and behave like the superhero he felt far 
from being.

	The doorbell rang a third time and Jonathan called out, 
"Superman, are you all right?"

	"I--I'm coming," Clark called back. He got on his hands 
and knees and crawled the rest of the way to the door, feeling 
his way forward with one outstretched hand. It wasn't very 
dignified, but right now it was the best way to travel. Once he 
felt the door, he stood up and groped for the doorknob. He 
straightened his shoulders, ran a hand back through his hair to 
smooth it, then opened the door and stepped aside.

	The Kents walked in followed by Mayson Drake. They all 
surveyed the wreckage in stunned silence. Then they looked at 
Superman. He just stood there holding the door open with a 
glazed look in his eyes. Martha started to rush forward but 
Jonathan restrained her. "Mayson," he whispered urgently in her 
ear, cautioning her.

	Mayson took charge and closed the door. "Superman, it's 
Mayson Drake and the Kents are here, Clark's parents. Where's 
Clark?" She asked looking about expectantly.

	"Oh, uh, he had to go out to try and track down Lois. 
She's meeting with the guys who, uh, blinded me," he finished 
lamely. There was no point in lying as there was no way he 
could fake being able to see when he couldn't.

	"Oh. Uh, well, I came because I wanted to show Clark this 
Intergang stuff right away in case there might be some 
connection. He also asked me about a Dr. David Battleboro so I 
called a friend down at police headquarters who ran a check on 
him. He's briefly been to prison once for working on a 
dangerous scientific experiment out of his garage in a 
residential area without the proper licensing. Could have blown 
the entire neighborhood off the map. He later worked for Luthor 
Technologies in a department called Laser Research. That's 
about all I could get on him get this fast."

	"Laser Research. Well that could explain what it was he 
used on me."

	Martha came forward slowly looking with concern at her 
boy's far-off expression. "What DID he do to you, Superman?"

	"Dr. Battleboro shined a highly powerful laser-like light 
in my eyes and now my vision's gone."

	"But how is that possible, Superman?" Mayson asked. "I 
mean, I thought you were invulnerable. You've flown into 
space."

	Superman nearly smiled. That was almost exactly what Lois 
had said. "I don't know, Ms. Drake. I was looking directly at 
the light because I wasn't expecting it. I do expect to fully 
recover, it's just that I'm worried that in the meantime these 
guys are up to something which could put lives in jeopardy. 
That would explain why they want me, Lois and Clark out of the 
way. It could be something involving extremely high powered 
industrial lasers. I don't know."

	"Well, if it is, that would be exorbitantly expensive 
which is why it might be Intergang related. They've got an 
almost unlimited cash flow."

	Superman nodded. "Mr. Kent?"

	"I'm right here, Superman," Jonathan said coming over to 
his side.

	"I need to speak with you privately. Clark had a few 
things he wanted me to tell you."

	Martha, who was feeling helpless in all of this, came 
forward. "Isn't there anything I can get for you, Superman?"

	Clark managed a smile. He wanted to say, a big hug would 
be nice, but said instead, "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. There really 
isn't anything, but I appreciate the offer."

	Jonathan took him firmly by the arm. The two women 
watched the Man Of Steel being led from the room like a little 
child. He didn't appear to be able to see anything.

	Martha turned and automatically began picking things up 
off the floor.

	Mayson watched her a moment then started to help. "Be 
careful of the broken glass," she warned.

	Clark and Jonathan entered Lois' bedroom and Jonathan 
shut the door.

	"Dad!" Clark said as he wrapped his arms around his 
father, practically holding on for dear life.

	Jonathan returned the embrace holding him tightly. "My 
boy. Oh, my boy."

	"Dad, I--I'm s-so scared."

* * * * * *

	In a dark alley behind the Daily Planet building, a lone 
motorcyclist sat watching and waiting, his headlamp off, engine 
running. Dressed all in black--black jeans and tee shirt, black 
leather jacket, black cowboy boots, and a black helmet with a 
dark visor down--the rider glanced down at the luminous dial on 
his wristwatch. Ten o'clock. Leaning forward a bit he could see 
Lois Lane standing in front of the entranceway to the Planet 
with her hands in the pockets of her coat.

	The motorcyclist watched as a black minivan pulled up in 
front of her. Its side door slid opened. The cyclist then 
lifted the visor on his helmet revealing the youthful face of 
Jimmy Olsen. Raising a SLR camera loaded with exceedingly fast 
film (for low light) to his face, he began to quickly and 
expertly adjust the focus on the heavy zoom lens. Lois Lane 
came into focus. Holding his finger down on the shutter, he 
shot off a continuous succession of frames, the automatic wind 
motor droning with each click and whirl of its engine as the 
film rapidly advanced and wound frame-by-frame. He captured 
Lois climbing inside the van and the door sliding closed behind 
her as well as the license plate.

	Jimmy lowered his visor before the van drove by the 
alley. Then, with his lights still out, he eased his motorcycle 
out into the nearly deserted street. At the next corner, the 
van turned right into traffic. Switching on his lights, he 
turned and followed it maintaining a safe distance, careful to 
stay at least two to three cars behind. The van had a pretty 
distinctive set of tail lamps which weren't difficult to spot 
in the traffic which consisted predominantly of automobiles. 
Jimmy tailed it halfway across Metropolis before it got on to 
the ramp for the expressway. Thank god I stopped and got gas, 
Jimmy thought, this looks like it could be a long ride.

* * * * * *

	"Clark," Jonathan told him as they sat side-by-side on 
the bed, "I didn't bring you any clothes. I couldn't with 
Mayson there."

	"I know, Dad. I was hoping I could change and you could 
drive me. Then, when we reached our destination I'd change back 
into the suit, but with Mayson here we'll have to scratch that. 
I can't risk her making any connections between Clark and 
Superman. I'll just have to do this as Superman without 
assistance. I've got to go out and try to find Lois. She's 
meeting with this Dr. Battleboro."

	"But how can you go out alone? How can you find her? How 
can you fly, Clark, if you can't even see?"

	"It's not going to be easy, let me tell you. Fortunately, 
I've got exceptional hearing, Dad. I'm just going to have to 
rely on that. I was able to contact Jimmy. I do have a plan. I 
just hope it works."

	"But, Clark. Isn't that a bit dangerous? You could run 
into something along the way."

	"It is, but I have no choice. I do know Metropolis pretty 
well, though--where the tallest buildings are located, what the 
various flight patterns are for the airports--to be able to 
avoid them. You can't be too careful about some of these 
chopper pilots, though. There are a few real cowboys out there 
who fly all over the map, but that sort of traffic tends to be 
very light this time of night. Still, I think I'd be able to 
hear them in time to avoid a collision."

	"Clark, I don't know. This sounds real risky to me. What 
do you do after you locate Jimmy? What then? You can't see well 
enough to cross a room by yourself. How can you hope to be able 
to do anything?"

	"I don't know, Dad. I may be fine by then. I'll just have 
to cross that bridge when I get to it. I'm banking on this 
vision problem being a temporary thing the way all my other 
injuries have been in the past. I've always healed very 
quickly. The most it's ever taken me to get well has been a 
couple of days."

	"And how long has it been since you got zapped?"

	"A couple of hours."

	Jonathan grunted.

	Mayson and Martha had just moved the sofa back to where 
they thought it belonged when Jonathan reappeared in the living 
room closely followed by Superman who was holding on to his 
arm.

	Jonathan opened a window and led Superman in front of it.

	Mayson came forward, "Superman, where are you going? You 
can't see. You can't handle this alone. You need help."

	"I have to handle this myself," Superman said. He dove 
out the window soaring straight up into the air high over the 
city. They all looked out the window but quickly lost sight of 
him.

	"How can he know where he's going if he can't even see 
where he's going?" Mayson asked.

	"The superhearing helps," Jonathan said.

* * * * * *

	Ten miles outside the center of Metropolis, the van moved 
along a dark and deserted roadway. Jimmy once again drove 
without his lights on now having to rely solely on the tail 
lights on the van to determine his direction. He was hoping the 
roadway was fairly smooth--although it certainly didn't feel 
that way--since he couldn't see it, when his front wheel hit a 
rut sending him and the bike onto the ground. He picked himself 
up in time to see the tail lights disappear.

	"What?!"

	Jimmy jumped up and got back on his motorcycle. After 
turning his lights on, he took off down the road.

* * * * * *

	Clark hovered in the sky over Metropolis waiting, his 
eyes shut, his arms crossed, his Superman red cape billowing 
behind him in a gentle southwesterly wind. Suddenly his entire 
body jolted at a painfully high pitched hypersonic screech. 
Instinctively, Clark moved his hands to his ears to block out 
the noise. Then he lowered them and began to concentrate on the 
direction it was coming from. He began to follow it, moving 
slowly across the sky, afraid to risk collision by traveling 
fast. He opened his eyes and squinted. All he could see was a 
complete blur of lights from the mammoth skyscrapers which 
graced the city skyline. Nevertheless, this was good, it was 
more than he had been able to see back in Lois' brightly lit 
apartment. The lights would be of some help to him in 
navigating.

	The sound was coming away from the heart of the city. 
There weren't any tall building outside the city so Clark 
decided to risk picking up some speed. He thrust his body 
forward through the air as he accelerated, his arms 
outstretched in front of him.

* * * * * *

	Jimmy Olsen was propped against his motorcycle with his 
lights on. He was staring up at the sky when he heard the sound 
of something approaching. A moment later he saw Superman land a 
few feet away.

	"You can shut that thing off now, Jimmy."

	Jimmy pressed the button on his signal watch and the 
hypersonic screech silenced.

	Superman breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, where's Lois?"

	Jimmy frowned and stared at Superman. He couldn't see his 
face clearly in the dark but there was something a bit odd 
about the tilt of his head, as if he was listening for 
something.

	"Well, I'm afraid I lost them out here--"

	"Jimmy!"

	"I'm sorry. But it's not my fault. It's totally deserted 
out here so I had to drive with my lights off or they would 
have spotted me. I was following their tail lights when my 
wheel hit a rut and I fell."

	"Are you okay?"

	"I'm fine. But as I was getting up, their lights 
disappeared."

	"Disappeared?"

	"Yeah. Just like that," he said snapping his fingers. "I 
thought they just rounded some curve in the road or turned off 
or something. So I got back on my bike, turned on my lights and 
drove down here a bit, but there is no curve and I didn't see 
them again. I've been up and down this road a half a dozen 
times searching for a turnoff, but I couldn't find any. It's 
just too dark to see anything out here. I'm really sorry."

	"Think they spotted you?"

	"I don't see how they could have. But if they did, they 
could have turned off the road, switched out their lights and 
be sitting out there somewhere right now, waiting for us to 
leave."

	"Turn off your engine, Jimmy," Superman said.

	Jimmy did.

	Superman listened intently. He couldn't hear any other 
engines running in the vicinity. Even if he had his sight, 
since he didn't have infrared vision he still wouldn't have 
been able to see well in the dark. There was nothing more that 
could be done until the morning. He just had to hope and pray 
he could see by then. Looking down at the ground he tried to 
activate his heat vision. It wasn't very strong, but it was 
working.

Jimmy watched as the Man Of Steel blasted a "S" into the road.

	"Did you bring a cell phone with you, Jimmy?"

	"Yeah. I picked one up at the Planet like C.K. told me 
to."

	"Good, Jimmy. Now this is what I want you to do," 
Superman told him.

* * * * * *

	Jonathan answered Clark's phone on the first ring. He had 
been sitting with the cordless receiver in his lap.

	"Mr. Kent?" Jimmy's voice said over the phone.

	"Yes?" Jonathan said.

	"This is Jimmy Olsen. Superman asked me to call you to 
report that Superman is on his way to meet C.K.--I mean Clark."

	"Okay, Jimmy. Thanks."

	Jonathan hung up the phone, went and stuck a 
videocassette in Clark's VCR and turned up the volume on the 
TV. After the FBI warning and the film company logo, the 
following words appeared screen on the TV, "A long time ago in 
a galaxy far, far away..." Then with a blast, the overture from 
"Star Wars" began. Jonathan opened a CD case, dropped a disk 
onto the platter of Clark's player, and pressed the "Play" 
button. Wagner's overture for the opera "Die Meistersinger" 
began blasting out of the stereo.

	Martha put her hands over her ears at the horrendous 
sound. Jonathan just grinned at her. "We've got a clever boy," 
he shouted over the noise. He then went over to the huge 
windows in Clark's bedroom to keep a lookout. Martha followed 
him.

	"Jonathan!" she shouted, "what's going on?"

	"Clark thinks he can home in on this!"

	"What?!"

	"I said, 'Clark thinks he can home in on this!'"

	"But what if he can't?! What if--"

	"Martha, stop worrying! I'm sure he'll be careful! He's 
always--"

	With that they heard a loud crash coming from the alley 
below Clark's balcony. Martha and Jonathan exchanged glances 
and went outside.

	Looking down they saw a crumpled figure dressed in blue 
with a red cape amidst a collection of trash receptacles. Clark 
staggered to his feet, looked up, and squinted. He could sort 
of make out that two people were standing on the edge of his 
apartment's balcony looking down at him.

	Slowly he floated up to where his parents stood. They 
reached for him as soon as he landed and led him inside the 
apartment. Clark grimaced at the noise.

	"Dad! I think you can shut that off now!" he shouted.

	Jonathan turned and went over to hit the Stop buttons on 
both the VCR and the CD player. In an instant, the room was 
silent. He turned back to look at his son. Clark was in his 
mom's embrace, holding on to her tightly. Jonathan went over 
and put an arm about his shoulder.

	"Oh, Mom. Dad. What a night!"

	"Great landing, Clark," Jonathan teased him.

	"Yeah, Dad. Well at least I didn't come crashing through 
the bedroom windows."

	With a bit of help from his father, who got him some 
clean clothes to put on, Clark changed out of his costume and 
into a pair of comfortable navy sweat pants, a light blue tee 
shirt, and a pair of white gym socks.

	His parents noted that although Jonathan walked beside 
him, Clark didn't needed to hold on to him as he carefully 
walked with his hands extended in front of him. He seemed able 
to navigate his apartment and find his way to the dining table 
to sit down unaided.

	"Your vision seems better, Clark," Martha observed.

	"It is a bit, Mom. It's still rather blurry, but I can 
sort of make things out by the shape of them, much better than 
when I was at Lois' apartment. Before, I couldn't tell anything 
apart, everything ran together."

	"You'll bounce back, Clark. You always do."

	"I hope so, Mom, or I might be wearing glasses for real," 
he said.

	"But why did you want that bizarre combination of sound?"

	"Mom, Metropolis is a big city. I didn't want to wind up 
at the wrong apartment. Someone else in the city could have 
been playing either the movie or the music. No one in their 
right mind would be playing both simultaneously."

	"Didn't I tell you we have a clever son, Martha," 
Jonathan said laughing.

	"Not quite, Dad," Clark said. "Jimmy lost the tail on 
Lois." He recounted Jimmy's story.

	"And you couldn't find anything when you were out there?" 
Jonathan asked.

	"It was too dark. Even if I had been able to see 
perfectly, I don't know that I could have found anything. I 
marked the spot with my heat vision so I can find it again, I 
hope. Jimmy's going to draw up a map as he backtracks to the 
city. He'll be faxing it here later. Also, he got the license 
plate number along with a set of photos of Lois getting into 
the van. He'll call Inspector Henderson with the info. 
Henderson will put out an APB on the van."

	"Well, then there is nothing more you can do, Clark," 
Martha said. "You now need to try and rest so that you can 
heal. You probably should keep your eyes closed and not try to 
use them."

	"I know, Mom. But it's so hard to relax when I know Lois 
is out there somewhere with these guys. What if they hurt her? 
She put herself into danger for me--for us--I mean for both 
Clark and for Superman. You know, tonight she told me--I mean 
Superman--that she cared for Clark, that she's confused because 
she cares for both of us but didn't understand why."

	Jonathan laughed. "But that's great, Clark. This is what 
you've wanted. For her to love both sides of you. For her to 
admit that to Superman--"

	"I know, Dad. But she hasn't yet admitted it to Clark. 
With me as Clark, she still suppresses her feelings, even 
pretends she doesn't have feelings beyond that of a close 
friend. Over Christmas, we came pretty close to crossing the 
line between friendship and something more--romantic. But we 
didn't cross it. And after Christmas was over--nada," he 
sighed. "How bad is her apartment or shouldn't I ask? I really 
think I wrecked the place."

	"Well, we cleaned up all the broken glass. It looks like 
she'll need three new table lamps and a figurine of some sort," 
Martha said. "But none of the furniture was damaged."

	"God, I want to pay for that, but I don't know how I can 
work it since Superman did it. I just hope nothing was 
irreplaceable. Some of the lamps matched--"

	"Clark, I wouldn't worry about that now. I'm sure Lois 
doesn't expect--"

	"No, she wouldn't expect Superman to pay, but I can't let 
her. I'll have to find a way to reimburse her. I mean it could 
cost several hundred dollars or more--" Clark leaned back in 
his chair and covered his eyes with his hands.

	"How do they feel?" Martha asked.

	"They burn, Mom. They really burn."

	"Come on, Clark," Martha said. "You've got to get some 
rest. Some cool compresses might help, too. You can't do 
anything more tonight. And stop worrying about Lois' 
apartment."

	"Okay, I'll try. Listen, if the phone rings could you get 
it?"

	"Sure, Son. Do you want to talk to anyone?" Jonathan 
said.

	"No. It's best if no one knows where I am until I can get 
a handle on this visual thing. It's going to be a real mess if 
I can't see well in the morning. I don't even want to think 
about how I'll manage. How would I ever explain it--both 
Superman and Clark can't see? So for now just take messages and 
if anyone asks where I am, tell 'em that I called and said I 
was out looking for Lois. Period. Even Mayson would buy that. 
By the way, did she say what she was going to do after I left 
Lois'?"

	"Just that she would see if she could get more on Dr. 
Battleboro," Martha replied, "and see if anyone had anything on 
John Needle. She mentioned contacting a friend at the FBI. But 
there didn't appear like there would be much she could do until 
the morning. She seemed quite nice. Very helpful, too."

	"She's really surprised me with being so helpful on all 
of this," Clark said. "You know Lois was never really sure that 
Mayson wasn't somehow involved with Intergang and just helped 
us to cover herself. Of course she still could be, but it seems 
less likely now."

	"And she doesn't hate Superman," Jonathan said.

	"No. That's a real surprise. She's got a point, too. 
Nothing I do is in the least bit brave. I'm rarely in any 
danger."

	"That doesn't make what you do any less noble, though, 
Clark."

	"I know, Mom," Clark said with a sigh, "but I don't feel 
very noble when I feel so helpless like this, when there's 
nothing I can do to help Lois before daybreak."

	He got up from the table and slowly navigated his way 
back to his bedroom. After pulling down the covers, he crawled 
into bed. Martha retrieved a wash cloth from the bathroom, ran 
it under cold water and placed it over his eyes.

	"Now try and get some rest and try not to worry, Honey."

	Clark smiled. "Thanks, Mom, Dad." He tried to relax, but 
all he could think of was Lois and her wanting to feed him some 
ice cream to make him feel better. She had been so attentive. 
She had cared so much. Where was she right now? Was she okay? 
He could only hope. He forced himself to relax and tried to 
clear his mind of all thoughts. But as he drifted off to sleep, 
he could hear her voice telling him on Christmas Eve, "You're 
just the best."

* * * * * *

	John Needle led Lois into a laboratory which was brightly 
lit and filled with a variety of equipment including several 
computers, rows of monitors, a console of some sort covered 
with buttons, switches and knobs, various scientific equipment, 
and a large piece of machinery. Dr. Battleboro was wearing a 
white lab coat and sat on a stool in front of a big table. He 
was fiddling with some dials as he looked through the 
viewfinder of the large piece of machinery Lois could not 
identify. Needle motioned to her to sit down on another stool 
on the other side of the table.

	"So, we meet again, Ms Lane," Battleboro said. "Were you 
followed?" he asked Needle.

	"No. There was no one behind me when I entered the 
tunnel. It was pitch black."

	"Good."

	"What is that device you used on Superman's eyes?" Lois 
asked.

	"Not wasting any time, are you, Ms Lane? Always the 
reporter. Asking the questions," Battleboro said. "Well let me 
ask you one. How well can your friend in the cape see?"

	"I'll tell you what you want to know when you tell me 
what I want to know."

	Battleboro and Needle exchanged glances.

	Battleboro said, "You know, Ms Lane--or can I call you 
Lois?--I don't think you realize that you're in no bargaining 
position with me. You came here of your own free will although 
I want you to know we could have easily picked you up any time 
we pleased. You and Mr. Kent are merely pawns in my chess game, 
metaphorically speaking. You are the tool I needed to get to 
Superman. The value of your life to me is in direct proportion 
to his state of health, his ability to interfere, to continue 
playing the role he's assigned himself of global cop. The 
minute he is no longer a threat, is permanently incapacitated, 
the moment you cease to have value."

	"Then what happens?"

	Needle smiled at her and replied, "Then, you die. Believe 
me, it'll be a pleasure."

	"So once again," Battleboro said, "I'll ask you how well 
can Superman see?"

	"Well, obviously, he's having some trouble or I wouldn't 
be here, but," she added hastily, "he's NOT blind. He can see. 
And if I know Superman he'll have his vision back by the 
morning."

	Needle looked at Battleboro. "What was I saying, David?"

	"So we didn't finish the job at once. Presuming, of 
course, Lois here is telling us the truth, and her super lover 
isn't stumbling blindly around her apartment as we speak."

	Lois looked away unable to meet his gaze, afraid she'd 
reveal too much of the truth. "So who do you work for?" she 
then asked.

	"That, Lois," said Battleboro, "is on a need to know 
basis. And I don't think you need to know because you won't be 
writing about this."

	"Well, maybe I just want to satisfy my curiosity."

	Needle laughed, "Didn't you hear that curiosity killed 
the cat?"

	"Well, I'm not a cat. And you still never answered my 
question about what you used on Superman?"

	Battleboro studied her a moment, then answered, "A laser. 
An industrial laser. Something completely new. In fact, a 
prototype of one of the most powerful lasers on the planet." 
Battleboro picked up the miniature device she had seen him aim 
at Superman which looked like a flashlight. "Amazing, isn't 
it?" he commented. "It's so small, yet so powerful. Laser 
technology is the weapon of the future. Just like in the sci fi 
movies. No more bullets, no more ammunition, bombs, missiles, 
the works. You won't need any. All you'll need is one of these. 
And the range on a full size model, which won't be much bigger 
than a Gatling gun, well you could aim one from here and blast 
a orbiting satellite right out of the sky. We did, in fact, in 
a test. It worked beautifully. The cable satellite last night."

	"That was you?" Lois said.

	"Yes. We blasted it to bits in a weapons demonstration. 
No cable TV until the cable company is able to switch to 
another back-up satellite. This'll completely revolutionize 
weapons technology."

	"And that's why you want Superman out of the way?"

	"Of course. We don't want him interfering which he would 
be bound to do. The big blue boy scout sticks his nose in 
everybody's affairs but no one can get rid of him. He's 
indestructible. Almost. I think eye sight may be his Achilles 
heel. That and his friends, you and Kent. Where is Kent by the 
way?"

	"I have no idea," Lois said. "At home, I guess."

	"Do we have his phone number?" Battleboro asked Needle.

	"I can get it," Needle replied.

	"Leave Clark out of it!" Lois said.

	"Really? Don't tell me you love him, too? Clark Kent must 
be some guy if he can compete with Superman."

	"In many ways Clark is better than Superman," Lois said 
impulsively, then stopped abruptly at the thought of what she 
had just said.

	"Just realizing that though now, aren't you? It's amazing 
how clear things become when a loved one is endangered," 
Battleboro said. "I've often wondered what us men would feel if 
there was a Superwoman flying about Metropolis. Would we want 
her? Would we worship her? Or would she be too perfect, too 
omnipotent for us mere mortals? Always fighting for truth and 
justice, always getting her man, saving the day. When would she 
have time to relax? Would she ever relax? Would she be able to 
love as we define the word? Would she ever be able to or want 
to settle down with a mere mortal and live a normal life?"

	He stopped and looked at Lois a moment. Her eyes were 
filled with tears and she was biting her lip. So that was how 
it was.

	"I think you've answered my question, my dear. It isn't 
easy, is it?"

	"You don't understand," Lois said impulsively. Superman's 
always been there for me. He's always cared for me--"

	"But in the way you want? He's there in emergencies to be 
sure. We've all seen it often enough in the news. 'Superman 
Stops Car From Hitting Lane.' But what after that? Does he come 
over for tea in the afternoon? Does he take you to dinner, to 
the movies? Has he ever bought you a present? Has he ever spent 
the night?"

	Lois looked down, completely unable to stop her tears 
from falling.

	"David," Needle said, "what's the point in all of this? 
We're wasting time."

	Battleboro waved his hand. "No, John, we're not. This is 
interesting. We've all wondered who and what Superman is. With 
the possible exception of Clark Kent, Lois Lane here knows him 
better than anyone. And I think it is obvious she also loves 
him very much. I think he's demonstrated that he cares for her, 
too, in the uncanny way he has of always being there for her 
when she's in life threatening situations. Haven't you ever 
wondered if Superman was capable of mortal love? I know I have 
and many of the men I meet have. How much, how little is he 
like the rest of us? Would the woman he loves be in utopia? 
Would he fill her every wish and desire?"

	Needle looked at Lois' tearstained face. "I guess not."

	She sobbed.

	"No," Battleboro said. "I think we can safely say 
Superman is not super lover. That he leaves much to be desired, 
in fact. He's very unfulfilling in every sense of the word, but 
he's hard to resist like being addicted to chocolate, perhaps? 
You know it can make you fat and possibly break out your skin 
but you can't stop eating it."

	"Chocolate doesn't break me out," Lois managed to say.

	"So, the question now is, how does Clark Kent fit into 
the picture and what is his connection to Superman?"

	"Well he's not gay, if that's what you're inferring," 
Lois said.

	Battleboro smiled. "Ah, yes. My little crack from our 
earlier phone conversation. Well I never really thought that he 
was, you know. I just wanted to needle you. But I am curious 
how Mr. Kent--Clark I think I'll call him--does seem to be the 
only one with the ability to contact him. Can you answer that?"

	Lois shook her head. "No. I don't have any idea how 
Clark--he just seems to be able to somehow. Maybe Superman gave 
him something to use, or a number to call or something. I don't 
know."

	"I'm surprised you never tried to find out. The 
investigative reporter in you kicking into high gear to learn 
the truth."

	"Well, Clark and I are partners, best friends, and he 
wouldn't tell me if I asked him anyway. Clark would never 
betray Superman's trust. He's very loyal, and good. He's very 
much like Superman in that way. That's one of the reasons I 
love him." She stopped abruptly. She had just said it. She 
loved Clark.

	Battleboro smiled, "I think a real man has just won out 
over Superman, John. Of course it's too late. But I think we 
can put it to good use assuming Clark feels the same way about 
her. If he does, then he'll be willing to risk his life to try 
and save her. Of course the attempt will be futile as the 
outcome is already predetermined, but it will help to make 
things easier if he comes waltzing into our spider's web and 
doesn't have to be kidnapped or anything crude like that. And 
maybe he will be able to bring the Man Of Steel with him who, 
I'm sure, would love to try and seek retribution."

	"David," Needle said, "you're assuming Superman is blind 
in the morning. If he isn't, if what Ms Lane here says is true 
and he's healed by then, then he'll be perfectly capable of 
walking or flying in here, rescuing her, and destroying us."

	"Not if doing so means her death. I think while he may 
not be capable of a real meaningful relationship with Lois 
here, he has proved he cares for her deeply and would do 
nothing to harm her. And the way we'll have things set up, if 
he intervenes, Lois will get cut in half like butter with this 
laser," Battleboro said.

	Lois' eyes widened in horror as she looked at it.

	"So why don't you go and find that phone number, John, so 
we can call Clark first thing in the morning."

* * * * * *

	While Jonathan Kent slept on the couch in Clark's living 
room, Martha spent the night sitting on the edge of his bed 
tending to her son. She regularly placed cool compresses across 
his eyes, gently stroked his soft black hair, watched him frown 
as a dream troubled him, listened to his even rhythmical 
breathing, heard him murmur once or twice Lois' name in his 
sleep which made her smile.

	Looking at him as he lay there it was hard to believe 
that Clark was the most powerful man on Earth, that he was 
empowered with superpowers. He looked and felt so normal, so 
human. And yet he could fly. He was invulnerable. He had flown 
a million miles into space and collided with a meteorite 
seventeen miles wide at a speed which excelled that of any 
manmade spacecraft and, though the impact had temporarily given 
him amnesia, he was otherwise unharmed. Yet, despite these 
amazing powers he had, Clark really wanted nothing more than to 
lead a normal life: living in Metropolis, working at The Daily 
Planet, and one day settling down with someone, hopefully Lois 
if she would ever come to her senses about her feelings for 
him. Clark loved her so very much.

	The question now was whether or not this Dr. Battleboro 
had finally found a weakness in Clark, a weakness which 
collisions with meteorites and encounters with kryptonite had 
failed to reveal. Could Clark be permanently blinded by laser 
beams? Were the days of his extraordinary visual powers over? 
It was hard to know. Clark had managed to use his heat vision 
just that night when he met with Jimmy. Surely that was an 
indication that he was mending. Would he still have his x-ray 
vision? His telescopic vision? His microscopic vision? Would he 
be able to see normally?

	Martha thought about these things as she watched him. 
Clark was so extraordinary, he had overcome such adversity in 
the past, she felt he would bounce back eventually.

	Daylight began to filter through the huge slanting 
windows in Clark's bedroom signaling dawn in Metropolis. The 
phone on Clark's fax machine began to ring jarring him awake. 
After the second ring the machine started to drone as a fax 
came in.

	Clark reached up and placed a hand over the washcloth on 
his eyes. He moaned.

	"Clark, honey," Martha said reaching out and placing her 
hand over his.

	"Mom?"

	"How do they feel?"

	"I'm not sure." Holding the cloth over his eyes Clark sat 
up in bed and moved back so that he was propped against the 
pillows. Then he just sat there.

	"Clark?"

	"I'm just afraid, Mom. What if I open them and I still 
can't see?"

	There was a stirring in the living room as Jonathan now 
awoke and got up. He went over to the fax machine, retrieved 
the incoming document, then came into the bedroom. He stood 
looking down at his son and Martha, who had now put her arms 
around Clark.

	"How is he?"

	"We don't know. He hasn't tried opening his eyes yet."

	"'Morning, Dad."

	"'Morning, Clark. Looks like you've got your fax from 
Jimmy. It's a diagram of some sort," Jonathan said as he 
examined it, "like a road map. Hope you can make sense of it."

	"Thanks, Dad. I'll take a look at it in a little bit." 
Clark very slowly lowered his hand removing the cloth from his 
eyes and Martha took it from him. His eyes were tightly 
squeezed shut.

	"Can you see light, Clark?" Martha asked him.

	"Yes."

	"Well, that's good," she said nodding at Jonathan who 
watched with concern.

	Very slowly Clark partially opened his eyes, then quickly 
raised his hand to cover them, "Argh."

	"What is it, Son?" Jonathan said.

	"It's so bright. What time is it?"

	Jonathan and Martha exchanged worried glances. The sun 
was not even up yet, just very early morning light was coming 
in. It was just barely light enough to see without needing to 
turn on any lights.

	"It's about six-thirty," Jonathan said.

	"Oh," Clark said. Shielding his eyes with his hand he 
tried opening them again. He could only manage to squint, and 
kept blinking them, closing them very tightly before opening 
them again.

	"Can you--see?" Martha asked hesitantly.

	"I--I d-don't know. It's the light, Mom. It's so bright. 
It hurts my eyes." Clark reached up and covered both his eyes 
with his hands.

	Jonathan left the room and went over to his suitcase. 
After rummaging around for a moment or two he extracted a pair 
of clip on sunglasses. They were very dark grey lenses. He came 
back to the bedroom and picked up Clark's glasses which lay on 
the table beside the alarm clock. He clipped the tinted lenses 
on to them transforming them into a pair of sunglasses.

	"Perfect fit," he smiled at Martha holding them up for 
her to see. It was fortunate Jonathan's lenses and Clark's were 
very similar in shape. "Clark, try these on. I've put my clip-
ons onto your glasses. They've got UV protection. Here." He 
handed the glasses to Clark who slid them onto his face.

	Clark reopened his eyes. He wasn't squinting as much now.

	"How's that? Does it help any?" Jonathan asked.

	"Yeah, Dad, it helps a lot. The light isn't so bright 
now. It isn't hurting my eyes as badly as it was before. But I 
think I'm starting to get a splitting headache now."

	"Look at me, Clark," Martha instructed.

	Clark turned his head to face her.

	"What do you see?"

	"Well," Clark said slowly, "I CAN see your face, Mom."

	Martha's face broke into a broad smile. "That's 
wonderful, Clark. See, Jonathan, he just needed some rest, he 
just--"

	"Martha, look!" Jonathan said cutting her off and 
pointing to Clark's face.

	She saw that Clark's lips were trembling and some tears 
were running down his face.

	"Clark! What is it?"

	"Mom, I--I c-can't see very clearly."

	"Is it as bad as last night?"

	"No, it's a lot better than that, b-but your face is 
still sort of fuzzy like it's slightly out of focus." He fell 
silent. "My vision hasn't come back. I guess it isn't going to 
come back."

	"Clark, it's too soon to know that," Jonathan said. 
"Remember it took you nearly a day to get your powers back the 
first time you were exposed to kryptonite, two days to recover 
your memory when you got amnesia. Perhaps it will take just as 
long for your vision to repair itself. And it is better than 
last night when you could barely see anything even if your eyes 
are now light sensitive."

	The phone rang and Jonathan picked it up. "Hello." He put 
his hand over the receiver. "It's Dr. David Battleboro."

	Clark looked up in surprise and nodded. "I'll take it."

	Jonathan handed him the phone.

	"Ah, Mr. Kent," Battleboro said. "Good morning."

	"I think we can cut the niceties, Dr. Battleboro. Where's 
Lois Lane?"

	"Oh, she's here with me, safe and sound, and she'll 
remain that way as long as you cooperate and don't try anything 
foolish."

	"What do you want?"

	"I want you to join me and Ms Lane. I will send my 
colleague, John Needle, to come and pick you up. Once you're 
here, I want you to contact Superman and invite him to join 
us."

	"I don't know if I can contact him."

	"Don't play games with me, Clark. It's no secret that you 
seem to have the direct line to contacting Superman. Use it. Or 
maybe you don't care if you never see Lois again since she's 
Superman's girl. But I think Superman has a fondness for her, 
and wouldn't want to see anything happen to her. You're his 
friend as well as hers."

	"It's not that simple--"

	"John!" Battleboro said.

	Clark heard Lois scream.

	"Lois!" he yelled into the receiver.

	"My colleague here just exerted a bit of pressure on 
Lois' arm. The next time he'll break it. Don't you care for her 
at all?"

	Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to 
control the rage he felt coursing through him.

	"I care for her more than you could ever know, Dr. 
Battleboro."

	"Well, then. There is no reason for her to suffer any 
further. All you need to do is carry out my simple little 
request. You do it all the time. Contact Superman."

	"You incapacitated him last night, Dr. Battleboro. Even 
if I were able to contact him, I don't know that he would be 
able to find his way to come to you. This is what I was trying 
to tell you."

	There was silence on the phone. Clark felt the panic 
rising in him. "Hello?"

	"I'm here, Clark," Battleboro responded. "Have you seen 
Superman lately?"

	"I--I saw him last night at Lois' apartment after she 
left. He contacted me."

	"And could he see?"

	Clark closed his eyes trying to think what to say. Was 
Lois in more or less danger depending on the state of 
Superman's visual abilities? He didn't know the answer. Take 
the middle ground, a voice in the back of his mind said.

	"Not very well," Clark answered, "but his vision could 
have improved by this morning. I just don't know."

	"Or it could have gotten much worse."

	"Possibly."

	"Well, you let me worry about that. The important thing 
is that you are able to contact Superman once you get here."

	"Yes," said Clark.

	"Good. Then John will be picking you up in about half 
hour in front of your building."

	"Okay."

	"And Clark. I don't think I need to remind you that Lois' 
safety depends utterly on your cooperation. No tails, no 
police, FBI, CIA, etc."

	"I understand."

	"Good," Battleboro said before disconnecting.

	Clark pressed the Talk button on the cordless and set it 
down.

	"Clark!" Martha said noticing it.

	"What, Mom?"

	She picked up the receiver and showed it to him. He had 
gripped it so tightly that his hand was imprinted on the 
plastic.

* * * * * *

	Clark sat in the passenger seat of the dark blue Ford 
Taurus. He was comfortably dressed in a pair of jeans, a navy 
sport shirt, and a navy blazer. He squinted out the window. 
Though he was still wearing Jonathan's clip-ons on his glasses, 
his eyes were burning almost unbearably. He had to blink 
rapidly to keep them from tearing. Reaching forward he lowered 
the sun visor over his window. Then he propped his elbow on the 
door and held his hand above his eyes in an effort to block out 
more light which was giving him an excruciating headache unlike 
anything he had ever experienced before. On a positive note, 
since he had woken up, his normal vision had been gradually 
clearing although it still wasn't quite back to 20/20. It 
looked like Jonathan might be right about him just needing 
sufficient time to mend. That was a relief. He didn't fancy 
having to really wear glasses since he couldn't imagine how 
he'd manage as Superman if he did need corrective lenses to see 
clearly.

	John Needle glanced at him and smiled noticing Clark's 
pained expression. "Rough night, huh, Clark?"

	"No thanks to you and your buddy Dr. Battleboro," Clark 
answered. "I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all. I was 
up most of the night."

	"Well, just be thankful you're not Superman."

	Clark grimaced and watched as Needle made the turn off 
the expressway. So far, Jimmy's map--which he instructed 
Jonathan to fax to both Mayson Drake's office and to Inspector 
Henderson in two hours if he didn't hear from Clark first--was 
accurate.

	It had struck him odd that Battleboro had mentioned both 
the FBI and the CIA in their phone conversation. Whatever he 
was up to it must be big if he was concerned about those 
agencies becoming involved. Clark decided it must be laser 
weapons technology. If it was something like that, then 
national security could be at stake. The authorities had to 
know. He just hoped he had allowed himself sufficient time to 
be driven to their destination, to find a way to rescue Lois, 
and to incapacitate Battleboro and Needle without revealing he 
was Superman in the process.

	Needle turned the car down a deserted and badly rutted 
roadway passing a rusted sign which indicated that this had 
once been an air force base. Clark marveled that Jimmy had been 
able to stay upright on his bike at all in the dark driving on 
this. He lowered his glasses, winced at the sunlight, then 
began scanning ahead to see if he could spot where he had burnt 
the "S" into the roadway. He noted with relief his telephoto 
vision seemed to be working fine although it was hurting 
terribly to use it. He had been afraid his visual powers might 
not function properly because of the pain and sensitivity of 
his eyes. He felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks and 
hastily brushed them away with the back of his hand.

	About a mile-and-a-half down the roadway, Clark spotted 
the "S" along the side of the road. It was faint, but 
unmistakable if you knew what you were looking for. Jimmy and 
the authorities ought to be able to find it. The question 
remained, how close was it to where the van had disappeared the 
night before?

	The thought had no sooner crossed his mind, then Needle 
braked the car to a near stop, picked a remote control device 
off the dashboard and aimed it at the center of a mileage 
marker on the right side of the road. Clark watched as a panel 
covered with grass and soil, which matched the surrounding 
terrain, lifted up and moved to one side revealing a ramp way 
leading down into a darkened tunnel. Needle drove down the ramp 
switching on his headlights as they descended into the gloom.

	Would the paneling close automatically, or would Needle 
need to use the remote again? Clark wondered. He watched him 
out of the corner of his eye and noticed that Needle still held 
the remote in his hand. As soon as they were off the ramp way 
onto flat ground in the tunnel, Needle braked again. The 
remote! Needle began raising his hand.

	Clark instantly lowered his glasses, shot a couple of 
bolts of heat vision into the device, then pushed his glasses 
back up against his face. Nonchalantly he removed the clip-ons 
from his frames and pocketed them as he watched Needle fiddle 
in frustration with the button on the remote.

	"Damn!" Needle said throwing it back onto the dashboard 
before releasing his safety belt and opening his door.

	Clark saw his chance. At superspeed he exited the car, 
closed the door, and moved behind it where he squatted out of 
view. He then used his heat vision on the hinges of the panel 
effectively welding them into place. He superspeeded back into 
the passenger seat and watched with satisfaction as Needle 
angrily punched the button on a box attached to the tunnel 
wall.

	After letting out a bunch of expletives, Needle stormed 
back to the driver's seat, slammed his door shut and shifted 
back into Drive.

	Clark watched the side view mirror with a slight smile on 
his face as the entrance receded into the distance.

	The tunnel must have been two or three miles long before 
Needle drove into a spacious brightly lit underground bunker.

	"Where are we?" Clark asked.

	"A deserted air force base. This was built during World 
War Two," Needle explained. "Hasn't been used in years."

	Needle exited the car and Clark followed him up a flight 
of stairs into a large laboratory. Immediately he saw Lois and 
started.

	"Lois!"

	She was gagged and strapped onto a panel which was 
propped up in front of large piece of machinery. She made a 
muffled sound and looked at him with wide eyes.

	"Stop, Clark!" Battleboro ordered stepping forward. 
"Unless you'd like to see that laser cut her in two."

	Clark froze in his tracks.

	"It would be quite ghastly to watch. Very messy. But I'm 
perfectly prepared to do it if you so much as try anything."

	Clark held up his hands in show of good will. "Please 
don't do anything to harm her," he pleaded.

	"John, how'd it go," Battleboro asked.

	"Fine until the damn door to the tunnel got stuck."

	"Stuck?"

	"It won't shut. I tried to operate it manually, but it 
didn't work."

	"Well there's little traffic down that road, but I don't 
want that panel left open. You better shut it from the outside 
and drive back around. It's five miles out of the way taking 
the roadway the whole way in, but it can't be helped until we 
get that fixed."

	Needle glanced at Clark who was looking very nervous and 
hadn't taken his eyes off Lois since the moment they arrived.

	"David, you want me to go and leave you alone with Kent?"

	Battleboro looked at Kent registering the concern on his 
face as he gazed intently at Lois over the top of his glasses. 
"I don't think he's going to give me any trouble. He obviously 
cares about her and doesn't want to see her hurt."

	"Okay, but what about Superman? Won't he be coming while 
I'm gone?"

	"I don't think Superman wants to risk Lois' life anymore 
than Clark does."

	Needle nodded and left the laboratory.

	"So, Clark," Battleboro said, "I think the time has now 
arrived for you to get in touch with the big blue boy scout."

	Clark slid his glasses back up on his nose. He had x-
rayed the laser from top to bottom trying to figure a way to 
deactivate it without running the risk of setting it off. He 
didn't know enough about them to chance doing anything to it.

	"I'll have to go outside to do it unless you want 
Superman arriving through the roof if he can't see where he's 
going," Clark said.

	Battleboro stared at him a moment trying to determine if 
Clark was up to something. He didn't like the idea of his going 
outside alone.

	"First explain to me exactly what you intend to do to 
contact Superman?"

	Clark pointed to his wristwatch. "It's has a signal which 
Superman can hear. If I activate it, he'll track it in to the 
source."

	"Is this the way you normally contact him?"

	"Yes," Clark lied.

	"How do you know he'll come?"

	"Because I'm the only person to have this and I never use 
it except in an emergency." Clark decided not to mention it was 
suppose to be hypersonic or that it was painful to his hearing.

	Battleboro crossed the room to Clark. "Let me see that, 
please."

	Clark slowly lifted his wrist. He momentarily debated the 
wisdom of jumping Battleboro but decided it might be too risky. 
For all he knew the laser could be voice activated, motion 
sensitive, or Battleboro might somehow be able to set it off in 
some other fashion before Clark could stop him.

	"It looks like an ordinary watch to me," Battleboro 
commented.

	"It's suppose to. It's dual purpose."

	"All right. But just so there is no misunderstanding, I 
am going to be here with my finger on the button which 
activates that laser. If you or Superman try anything at all--"

	"I got it," Clark said. "Believe me, I don't want her to 
get hurt." He took one last look at Lois before walking to the 
doorway and exiting the laboratory.

	Being outside in the bright sunlight was agonizing. Clark 
closed his eyes. He could see some red spots forming as they 
had after he first got blasted in the eyes with the laser last 
night. He decided he better wait a few minutes before Superman 
appeared. It wouldn't do for him to arrive too quickly. That 
might arouse suspicions. It mustn't look as if Clark had 
preplanned anything. It must seem as if Superman had heard the 
signal and, if he was having visual difficulties, it would take 
a couple of minutes for him to respond. Clark had already 
decided that it might be in Lois' best interests if Superman 
appeared to be partially handicapped since he'd seem less 
threatening that way. It wouldn't be a difficult performance 
considering the way he was feeling. Clark also needed something 
to distract Battleboro for a short while since he would be 
expecting both Superman and Clark to enter the room.

	"Superman! Thank god you're here," Clark finally said in 
a loud voice.

	Battleboro, hearing his voice coming from outside, looked 
expectantly at the doorway.

	A moment later Superman floated through and alighted a 
few feet inside. He folded his arms across his chest. He seemed 
to be squinting as his eyes were partially shut. There were 
tears running down his cheeks.

	Battleboro smiled in satisfaction. He must be in pain.

	"Superman, welcome," he said.

	Unfolding his arms, Superman walked forward a bit 
hesitantly his hands outstretched in front of him the same way 
he had been the night before. He bumped into a stool, knocking 
it over.

	He heard Lois squeal against the gag and saw her struggle 
against the bonds.

	"Let her go," Superman said as authoritatively as he 
dared, not wishing to provoke Battleboro. He wasn't sure how 
trigger happy the man was.

	"I think not, Superman. Where's Clark Kent?"

	"If you do anything to her, Dr. Battleboro," Superman 
went on ignoring the question, "you won't live a second longer 
to tell about it I assure you." HeClark then took a couple of 
steps in her direction, stumbled, and fell onto the floor 
knocking over a long table.

	Battleboro began to laugh, momentarily distracted.

	Superman glanced up in Lois' direction, activated his 
heat vision, and quickly cut through the bonds holding her to 
the panel. Then he climbed awkwardly to his feet while 
Battleboro continued to watch him in merriment.

Lois began to move and Superman saw the smile leaving 
Battleboro's face as he caught sight of it and began to realize 
what Superman had done. In a blur of superspeed, Superman 
crossed the room and snatched her out from in front of the 
laser just as Battleboro activated it with a tiny remote he had 
hidden in his hand. An intense red laser beam shot out 
instantly cutting through the panel. Two halves fell to the 
floor with a clatter.

	Lois gasped in horror and clung tighter to Superman as he 
turned and let out a super cold breath on the laser. The beam 
went out as the mechanism froze.

	Battleboro dropped the remote and ran out the doorway.

	"Clark will be right back," Superman told Lois as he 
gently set her down, then removed the gag from her mouth. "He 
went to call the police."

	Lois nodded and watched as he flew out the doorway. Less 
than a minute later Clark bolted through it. Lois ran into his 
arms.

	"Clark!"

	"Lois, are you all right?" he asked as his arms wrapped 
around her.

	She nodded fighting back the tears. "Are you?"

	"I'm just fine. Superman caught Dr. Battleboro outside, 
then went after Needle. The two of them are trussed up outside 
in their car."

	"I can't believe you came in here by yourself to save me, 
Clark, before you contacted Superman. That was so incredibly 
brave of you--"

	"Lois, it wasn't really--"

	"Of course it was. And I can't tell you how much it means 
to me."

	"Really?"

	"You could have been killed, Clark. I'll never forget 
it," she said holding him tightly her face buried in his 
shoulder.

	His arms tightened around her.

	"Argh," she suddenly said pulling a little away from him 
and placing a hand over her stomach.

	"What's the matter?" Clark said.

	"I'm just so hungry. I didn't get to eat dinner last 
night--"

	"No ice cream, huh," he teased remembering her offer.

	"Clark. Nobody eats ice cream for dinner. What time is it 
anyway?"

	Clark released her and looked at his watch. "Nearly 
9:30." He started to lower his wrist when she grabbed it.

	"Wait a minute, let me see that." She studied Clark's 
watch for a moment. "This isn't a hypersonic signal watch like 
the one Jimmy has, Clark."

	"No, it isn't."

	"Is it--is it a signal watch at all?"

	Clark hesitated before saying, "No."

	"You mean you were bluffing?"

	"I wasn't bluffing entirely, Lois. I had the means of 
contacting Superman. I just didn't want Battleboro to know what 
it was."

	"So tell me, how do you do it?"

	Clark smiled and shook his head, "Sorry, Lois."

	"Clark!"

	"I can't. I promised Superman I'd never tell. Scout's 
honor," he said holding up three fingers.

	"And you and Superman are such good Boy Scouts," Lois 
said.

	"Uh, huh. But I tell you what, I'll go buy you the 
biggest, best breakfast you've ever had."

	"No, I'm buying you--"

	"Lois."

	"What?"

	"If you argue I'm going to strap you back in front of 
that laser and throw the switch."

	She thought a moment, then hooked her arm through his arm 
and smiled up at him broadly, "Okay, Boy Scout, you're buying."

	THE END