Doppelganger
by Nan Smith <hachiban@earthlink.net>
Rated PG-13
Submitted November 1999

___________


There have been all kinds of explanations for the baby who appeared
magically at the end of "The Family Hour", most of them involving H.G.
Wells.  But what if H.G. Wells had nothing to do with it?  What if there was
another reason for the appearance of the mystery child?

I know the writers intended the baby to be Superman's descendent but, since
the show is no longer on the air, I can do what I want with its miraculous
appearance.  What if it was all part of a sinister plot?  Taking that "what
if" rather than the conventional one, I had a whole new set of possibilities
to play with.

I have to credit my husband, Charles Smith, for letting me talk his ear off
about the story, and for helping me with several plot ideas, and technical
details.

As always, the characters and recognizable scenes in this story are the
property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., December Third Productions, etc., but
the story is mine.


Doppelganger

by Nan Smith
(hachiban@earthlink.net)

Introduction


The room was quiet and dark, although from upstairs there came the soft
murmur of voices.  In his arms, the tiny bundle shifted and whimpered
softly.  He cradled it against him, holding it securely.  Now was not the
time for noise.  If he was seen, his connection with this business would be
exposed and that could be fatal.  There were those who would willingly kill
him if his role were discovered.  Safety lay in complete anonymity.

The dining room doors were closed; he hoped fervently that they would muffle
any stray sounds.  He peered cautiously around in the dimness, searching for
what he had seen through the windows earlier in the day.  Ah, there it was.
The bassinet sat a few feet away from the wall, empty.  The couple who lived
here would be more than surprised when they discovered what had been left
for them during the night.  He laid the infant carefully on the mattress and
tucked the blue blanket gently around him, making sure that the famous "S"
shield was prominently displayed.  It was the most explicit clue that he
could give them that this child was not ordinary.  Considering who they
were, he could only hope they would reach the correct conclusion.  The other
alternative had been unacceptable.  In spite of his actions in the past,
which had been less than honorable, he could not kill a baby.  But the fate
of the world most likely rested on the cleverness and investigative ability
of the two people to whom he was entrusting this tiny creature.  He had seen
those qualities demonstrated before, to his chagrin.  He hoped that they
would be as resourceful this time.

With hands that shook only slightly, he laid a folded paper atop the blanket
and turned away.  In a few minutes he had left the home and disappeared
silently into the night.

*     *     *     *     *

A silver Jeep Cherokee maneuvered expertly through the crowded streets of
Metropolis' rush hour.  Lois Lane, at the wheel, glanced in the mirror at
her four month old adopted son in his car seat.  The baby was blinking
drowsily; Lois had noticed how the motion of a car always tended to lull CJ
to sleep in record time.  She returned her gaze to the heavy traffic.  She
was late getting home and Clark was who knew where.  He had rushed out of
the newsroom two hours ago, and Superman had been spotted shortly
thereafter, preventing the Metropolis Ferry from taking itself and some
forty passengers to a watery grave.  The disaster averted, Superman had
flown off.  He was probably patrolling the city one last time before dinner,
Lois surmised.  With luck they would be able to eat in peace for once
without someone yelling for his help.

At Melon Street, Lois turned right and almost immediately right once more
into the parking lot of Antonio's.  Since she was so late, dinner was going
to be take-out Italian tonight from the authentic little Italian family
restaurant Clark had found last month..  Fettucine Alfredo, she thought, and
crusty Italian bread, and maybe a salad, washed down with that red wine
Clark had brought home from Italy last week.  Her stomach growled at the
mere thought of it, reminding her that she had skipped lunch because of the
Mayor's press conference.  As far as Lois was concerned the answers Her
Honor had given were unconvincing and incomplete, and if she thought Lois
was going to drop the matter now--about her, or the City Council--she was
vastly mistaken.

She pulled into a parking place and cut the engine.  A few moments later she
was waiting at the counter, CJ in one arm, while Giuseppe assembled the
order.  The little man was Antonio's brother-in-law, Lois knew.  According
to Clark, the restaurant was very much a family affair, and Lois had not
been surprised to learn that he had already heard the history of the entire
clan, and their move from Milan to the United States a generation ago, when
Grandfather Antonio had established the business.  Giuseppe set the bag with
its steaming contents on the counter and rang up the charges, smiling
cheerfully at CJ.  The baby's mouth split in a wide, toothless grin in
response to the attention.

"So, this is CJ?  Clark has told us so much about him," the man informed
Lois, cheerfully.  "He's a handsome boy.  Looks a lot like your husband."

"Thank you," Lois said.  She counted out the money one-handed, and sniffed
at the aromas emanating from the bag.  "That smells heavenly, Giuseppe."

"The chef's special," he said, proudly.  "You won't find better Fettucine
Alfredo anywhere in Metropolis."

"I can believe it," she said.  "Thanks.  I better get it home before it gets
cold."

"Just warm it in the microwave if it does," he told her.  "It takes more
than that to ruin *this* food."  He winked at the baby. "Just wait, little
fellow," he told CJ, who was watching him, solemnly.  "In another year your
mom'll let you taste it.  Strained carrots just doesn't measure up."

CJ stuck a fist in his mouth, his large, brown eyes focussed unblinkingly on
Giuseppe's face.  He belched suddenly, and both adults laughed.

Lois picked up the bag, with care for the fragrant contents, and returned to
the Jeep.  Stashing the food in the back, she carefully braced the bag
against spillage and settled CJ into his car seat, her mind returning to
Giuseppe's remark about him as she slid behind the wheel again and started
the engine.

Of course, most casual acquaintances were unaware that he was adopted.  It
wasn't a subject that usually came up.  But the man had been right--CJ
looked very much like Clark.  The thin layer of hair on his head, when he
had come to them three months ago, was slowly but surely growing thicker
and darker; he had the same big, brown, almond-shaped eyes and long lashes,
and even the tiny birthmark on his upper lip.  The little dimpled chin had
a determined curve like Clark's, too, and Lois often could swear, looking
at him, that this baby really was Clark's son, no matter how impossible it
might be.  It was a mystery, all right, as was his arrival itself, but it
didn't matter.  He was theirs and that was all that did.

Horns blared behind her, interrupting her ruminations.  She glanced in the
mirror, to see a grey car cut rudely under the nose of a vegetable truck,
causing the truck driver to slam on his brakes.  More horns sounded.  The
grey car pulled into the next lane, tailgating the blue Chevy in front of
him.  Lois shook her head.  Drivers were getting worse every day around
here.  If that guy wasn't careful, Superman was going to be pulling him out
of a wrecked vehicle.  She sped up a little.  People like that made her
nervous.  The last thing she needed was to get into an accident with CJ in
the car.

The light in front of her turned yellow as she went through the intersection
and then instantly red.  That light was always too short, she thought, with
the usual stab of irritation.  The squeal of tires and a chorus of honking
behind her caused her to glance quickly back.  The grey car had gone through
the red light, too, and was pulling up on her.

The back of her neck began to prickle.  There was something frightening
about the other driver's determination to keep up with her.  The grey car
drew even with her rear bumper and nudged closer.

Trying to keep one eye on traffic and one on the car that she was now almost
sure was following her, Lois pressed harder on the accelerator and pulled a
little ahead, but hurrying was almost impossible in the heavy traffic.
Another car cut between them.  Lois squinted into her rearview mirror,
attempting to get a good look at the driver of the other car, but she
couldn't see much of him in the mirror.  He seemed to be wearing a hat,
pulled down over his forehead, a pair of sunglasses, a mustache and a short,
curly brown beard.  She tried to memorize what she could see of his
appearance and at the same time keep a car or two between them.

But rudeness and determination seemed to win out.  The other car edged
inexorably nearer, and it was obvious that the driver was doing his best to
cut her off.  Lois gritted her teeth.  The grey car was pulling even with
her front fender now, inching toward her as they approached an intersection.
The car ahead of her went through as the turn light changed to red in her
direction.  She took a deep breath, slammed her foot down on the
accelerator and cut left sharply in front of the other car.  The driver
instinctively slammed on his brakes and his tires squealed in protest.
Keeping her foot to the floor, she swung farther left, made an illegal turn
against the light under the nose of the traffic that was coming at her in a
solid wall of vehicles, and rocketed into the cross street, her own tires
shrieking their distress.  Horns blared behind her, tires screeched and
shouts of fury filled the air.  Glancing back, she glimpsed the beginnings
of a massive traffic jam with the pursuing car caught in the middle of it.
She kept going, barely aware of her racing heart, single-mindedly heading
for home, and safety.

*     *     *     *     *

Clark zipped through the bedroom window, changed clothing in a gush of wind
and exited down the stairs in his civilian attire.  Even before he reached
the ground floor he knew something was wrong.  He could smell Italian food,
but it was in a bag resting on the coffee table, and the front door was
locked and chained.  Lois was sitting on the sofa, holding CJ in her lap,
and she jumped slightly when he appeared suddenly on the stairs.  He could
hear her heart speed up.  He came lightly across the living room and was
beside the two of them in an instant.  "What's the matter, honey?"

Lois swallowed.  "I'm glad you're home."

"I would have been here sooner, but a Jeep apparently made an illegal left
turn over on Palomar and Woods, and caused a big traffic jam.  I had to
clean it up."  He saw her expression change.  "What's the matter, Lois?  Did
something happen?"

She nodded.  "Someone was trying to force me off the road."  She told him
the story, and while she talked he put his arms about her and CJ both.  The
baby, sensitive to the tension in the air, began to whimper, softly.

"You kept your head and got out of it," he said, quietly, when she had
finished.  "Of course, I expect no less from Lois Lane."  She smiled faintly
at that.  "But, seriously, you did the right thing.  Who do you think it
was?  Did you get a look at the driver?"

She shook her head.  "He was all bundled up--sunglasses, hat, mustache and
beard.  About the only thing I could tell was that it was a man with brown
hair.  Not a lot to go on."

"How about the car?"

"It was a grey sedan; I think it might have been a Ford, but it was an older
car and I couldn't see the brand."

"Okay," he said.  "Did you call the police?"

"Yes.  They took the report, but said not to expect a lot."

"I'm afraid that's probably accurate."  He stood up, drawing her with him.
"Why don't I heat this food up for dinner?  You'll feel better after you've
had something to eat.  I'm not going to let anything happen to you and CJ,
Lois.  Count on it."

"I know."  She shook herself abruptly.  "Look at me!  Acting like nobody's
ever been after me before.  If there is, we'll handle it.  The thing that
shook me up was that CJ was in the car."

"I know.  You had to look out for him, too."  He stroked the fine, dark
waves on their son's head.  "But you kept him safe.  That's what counts.
Come on.  You get the wine and I'll fix up the food.  Let's eat."

*     *     *     *     *

High over Metropolis four hours later, Superman kept one ear peeled for any
call for help from his wife.  He hadn't wanted to make the patrol at all;
his instincts said to stay home to protect the two most important people in
his world, but Lois, as usual, had brought common sense back into play.

"You can't protect us every second of every day, Clark.  Go on out; make
your patrol, and then come back.  I promise you I'll keep the doors and
windows locked, and if anything seems at all wrong, I'll yell my head off.
Okay?"

So he had gone, reluctantly, to do his job, but he kept a part of his
attention alert for any sound from Lois.  So far there had been nothing.
The faintly warm night air of late summer brushed his face softly, bringing
with it the smells of the great city far below him.  Even this late at night
Metropolis wasn't asleep; Metropolis never slept.  There would be people out
on the streets every hour of the day or night.  That was one of the things
that he loved about it.  Overhead a layer of mist reflected the city lights,
and below him those lights lit up the darkness like a million jewels
scattered across a swath of black velvet.  The scene was peaceful and very
deceptive.  Metropolis was anything but peaceful at any time.

The smell of smoke wafted toward him on the wind.  He turned his head,
searching for the source of that odor.  In an instant he had spotted it:
the Stafford Building, one of the newer buildings in the business section.
A plume of smoke was rising lazily from one of the windows on the 27th
floor.  He changed course and flew toward it.


*     *     *     *     *

Lois lay in bed, trying to read.  The house was quiet; she could hear CJ
snuffling occasionally as he slept in his crib across the hall.  The
periodical rested on her lap, folded back to the article she had chosen, and
she knew she had read the entire page, but she had no idea what the writer
had been trying to tell her.  She glanced at her little alarm clock for the
third time in five minutes, and closed the magazine with a sigh of
resignation.

She had told Clark to go on with his patrol, that he couldn't stand guard
over CJ and her every second, and he at last grudgingly agreed, but the fact
remained that what had happened that afternoon had shaken her more than she
would admit to Clark, or even completely to herself.

For the first time she understood how Clark must feel trying to protect
someone weaker than himself from harm, someone who meant everything to him.
CJ had been in the car, solely dependent upon her for protection, and it had
been a frightening experience to know that she might fail.

She glanced at the clock again.  Clark should be home soon, unless he ran
into something unexpected--which could happen, she reminded herself.  He
could wind up fighting a typhoon in the South Pacific, or an avalanche in
Switzerland on a moment's notice, but she hoped he wouldn't.  If he did, she
knew very well that she wouldn't get much sleep tonight.  Not that she would
have told him so.

The telephone rang and she almost jumped out of her skin.  Come on, Lois!
she told herself.  You're working yourself up into a real state of nerves!
She picked up the receiver on the second ring.  "Hello?"

A faint clicking sounded on the line, then there was nothing but that
peculiar flat deadness that indicated the mute button was being held down.

"Hello?" she repeated, a prickle crawling slowly over her scalp.

Nothing.  Then she heard the unmistakable sound of the receiver being hung
up. She put down the phone as if it had burned her.

After a few seconds she took a grip on herself.  People did that all the
time in the city, she told herself.  A prank, or a wrong number; that was
all it was.  It was silly to get upset over such a common occurrence.  She
glanced at the clock again.

*     *     *     *     *

The fire was in the law offices of Williams, Grover, Bender and Ross.  Clark
had reason to remember it.  After the unfortunate death of Sheldon Bender,
who had been the attorney for Lex Luthor, the responsibility for all the
legal matters relating to the breakup of LexCorp was shifted to his brother,
Adrian, who was a partner of this firm.  Probate was still going on, and the
legal matters relating to Luthor's huge business empire would undoubtedly
continue for many years.  Clark could only be grateful for the fact that its
founder was dead.

Superman went in through the shattered window.  There was no glass strewn
below on the carpet, he noted absently.  The window appeared to have been
broken from within--reasonable to assume, since only a human fly could
possibly have reached this spot unaided.  The source of the smoke was
immediately apparent:  Adrian Bender's office was blazing, as if fueled by
more than the obvious, and he could detect the pungent odor of some volatile
chemical.  Arson, he thought.  This fire was no accident. Quickly, he sucked
in his breath and released a blast of freezing air, extinguishing the flames
within seconds.  Judging by the sirens his super-hearing was picking up, the
fire department was already on its way.  He stood by the window, surveying
the damage.

Bender's office safe had been opened, and the contents piled in the center
of the floor.  Part of the pile was blackened, but a scan with his x-ray
vision revealed that the papers beneath the surface were relatively
undamaged.  One folder caught his attention instantly; the outside, with the
logo of LexCorp stamped boldly on its surface, was singed, the edges brown
and curling, but the interior was unharmed.  Only it was empty.   On a hunch
he scanned the other papers, scorched and untouched alike, but there seemed
to be nothing in the pile that matched the label on the folder.  If the
contents had burned, he should still be able to read the charred remnants
with his enhanced vision, but there was nothing there that even remotely
matched.  The contents of that folder were not in the pile, burned or
intact.  Perhaps he had discovered the reason for the obvious arson, he
considered.  Something might have been in the folder which someone wanted,
and a fire set to cover the theft.  If he had arrived much later the
evidence would have been gone.  But what was "Project Doppelganger"?

He turned at the sound of the door opening.  A firefighter stuck his head
cautiously through the door.  His expression changed.  "Oh, hi, Superman.
Glad to see you here. What's the scoop?"

After giving a quick summary to the fire crew, he flew off to continue his
patrol, but the small incident bothered him.  Anything about LexCorp always
captured his attention, be it ever so trivial.  LexCorp had caused him far
too much pain and loss for him to easily forget, or dismiss it.

*     *     *     *     *

"Yeah, it was arson, all right," Police Sergeant Ed Braun was saying.
"Superman got there and put it out or there wouldn't have been nothin' left.
Somebody may have been trying to cover up the theft of some sort of
documents.  The other partners don't know anything about it."

"What does Bender have to say?" Clark asked. "Has anybody talked to him?"

"Only way you can do that is if you've got a pass to the Pearly Gates,"
Braun said.  "He was killed last night, two blocks from his home, about the
time Superman was putting out the fire.  His car blew up."

"*What*?"

"Yeah.  Kablooey.  Car bomb, right out on the street.  The guy was burned so
bad you could barely tell he was human.  Nasty."

Clark suppressed his instinctive wince.  "I suppose they've identified him."

"Well, not exactly.  The Medical Examiner didn't think it was necessary, but
his insurance company insisted.  Seems he had a million dollar insurance
policy and they don't want to pay his ex-wife unless they're sure it's
really him.  They're gonna try using his dental records, I think."

"I see."  Clark clicked off his recorder.  "Well, let me know what they
find, okay?  I don't like coincidences like that."

"Neither does Henderson," Braun said. "The case isn't closed, yet."

*     *     *     *     *

"So that's where they are right now," Clark concluded.   He tilted his chair
back and looked up at his wife, who was leaning against the edge of his
desk.  Jimmy Olsen scurried by with a box of doughnuts in his hands, headed
for their editor's office.

"Sounds like whatever it was might be pretty hot stuff," Lois said,
thoughtfully.  "And Superman said the file was labeled 'Project
Doppelganger', huh?  I wonder if there would be records anywhere else, say
in LexCorp's files?"

"Maybe," Clark said.  "It's got to be something pretty sensitive, though."

"I'll say," Lois said.  "It got at least one man killed."

"And a law office torched," Clark said. "You didn't see that fire, Lois.  If
Superman hadn't gotten there when he did, the whole floor would have
burned."

She shook her head.  "It sounds like we've stumbled into something pretty
big here.  What do you think we should do first?"


"Well, we could have Jimmy do a search.  I suppose it's possible there might
be some backups in LexCorp's computers..."  He broke off as his phone
shrilled.  "Just a minute...Clark Kent."  He listened for a moment and his
eyebrows snapped up.  "*What*?  Are you sure...All right, we'll be right
there."  He set down the phone and got to his feet.  "That was Inspector
Henderson.  He decided to take a personal interest after what happened to
you yesterday.  Someone's broken into our house."

*     *     *     *     *

"One of your neighbors called," Henderson said, as Clark unlocked the front
door.  "A..."  He glanced at his notepad.  "A Mrs. Barclay.  She saw
somebody hanging around the place and got nervous.  The officer who came to
investigate found your kitchen door had been jimmied, but whoever did it was
long gone."

"I hope he scared away whoever it was," Lois said.  "I told you we needed
better locks, Clark."

Clark shrugged.  "I'll put on a deadbolt this evening.  Let's just see if
they took anything, huh?"

They walked through the house, looking for anything that might have been
disturbed.  On the ground floor it seemed as if nothing had interested the
burglar, until Lois glanced into the den.  "Clark, did you leave the file
cabinet open?"

"No."  Clark came up behind her.  "What..."

"The file drawer is open.  Somebody's been going through our records."

"Now what the dickens..."  Clark stepped forward, lifted his glasses
casually and scanned the files.  "Nothing seems to be missing."

"How can you be sure?" Henderson asked.  "Go through them and find out for
certain and let us know.  Is there anything else in here that appears to
have been disturbed?"

"I think somebody's been messing with the computer," Lois said, uncertainly.
"The monitor's at the wrong angle.  And I always push the chair under the
desk when I leave, since this room's so tiny, anyway.  You weren't using it
were you, Clark?"

"Not since yesterday morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah.  I was busy all last evening, remember?"

"Do you suppose someone was trying to access our computer?" Lois asked.

"I guess they might try.  They aren't going to get through the system of
passwords, though," Clark said. "What do you suppose they wanted?"


"It looks like they were after your records," Henderson said.  He shoved his
hands into his pockets.

"I think that's obvious," Clark said.  "But which records, and why?"

There didn't seem to be an answer to that.  Clark turned toward the stairs
and led the way onto the second floor.  Upstairs, the mystery deepened.
Nothing in their bedroom had been touched, but Lois gasped at the sight of
CJ's room.  It had been thoroughly ransacked, and Lois was willing to swear
that his hairbrush was missing.  At least it wasn't where she had left it,
but in the light of the attempt to run Lois off the road the day before,
Henderson seemed inclined to take the situation more seriously than he
otherwise might have.

"Look," he said, finally, as they left the chaos that was now CJ's room,
"you may have a stalker, or there might be something else going on here.
I'd advise you to be especially careful of CJ's safety since there seems to
be some special interest in him, judging by the condition of the nursery."
His normally mournful expression deepened slightly.  "There isn't much I can
do at this point except advise you to be careful.  If my people find
anything we'll let you know."  He glanced at the man who came to the foot of
the stairs.  "Anything, Winslow?"

"No, sir.  Everything's been wiped clean."

Henderson sighed.  "You two are trouble magnets, did you know that?"

Lois looked indignant.  "But we didn't do anything this time!"

Henderson gave her a sour smile.  "You don't have to.  You attract trouble
without any effort at all.  I'm going to tell the cruiser that covers your
street to keep an eye out, just in case.  We'll contact you if anything
turns up."

"Thanks, Inspector," Clark said.  "We really appreciate the trouble you're
taking for us."

Henderson grunted.  "Think nothing of it.  I figure if I hang around with
you two long enough, sooner or later I'll make the most spectacular arrest of
the century and my career will be made.  Maybe I'll run for senator or
something and quit working for a living."

*     *     *     *     *

Lois called the day care center where CJ was currently enrolled to check on
his safety, and to ask the staff to be especially alert.  She was assured
that they took every precaution with all of their charges, and Lois hung up,
slightly reassured.


Back in the newsroom, a short time later, Clark worked on finishing his
article covering the fire at the Stafford Building the night before and the
tragic explosion that appeared to have claimed the life of prominent
attorney Adrian Bender, while Lois concentrated on her own research
concerning the situation she had been investigating which involved the Mayor
and the City Council, and the possible misuse of city funds.  She was slowly
accumulating evidence which could cause a major embarrassment to the current
city government, if it panned out.  The Mayor's performance yesterday at the
press conference hadn't convinced her of Her Honor's innocence in the least.
She was just finishing a phone call with one of the witnesses when she saw
Clark tilt his head  with "that look" on his face.  She brought the
conversation to an end and glanced inquiringly at him.

He leaned over her chair.  "Earthquake in Japan.  I need to go."

"Go.  I'll cover for you."

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and strode quickly toward the stairs.

Lois read over the article on his computer, finished the last paragraph,
then LANned it to Perry, wondering again if, as she and Clark had already
speculated, there was a connection between the fire in Bender's law office
and the explosion of his car.  Someone apparently wanted him dead.  Of
course, he *was* a lawyer, but even that wasn't a good reason for killing
him.  The mysterious "Project Doppelganger" might be behind it all, but what
on earth could be so important about a project once engaged in by a defunct
company?

A chill passed over her at a sudden thought.  She and Clark had never
considered the meaning of the word, "doppelganger".  Could that have been
the clone project?  And, if so, was someone trying to resurrect it?  They
now knew that Lex had been directing operations from his prison cell the
entire time he had been incarcerated at Stryker's Island.  He had been in
contact with Mamba, Asabi and other members of his organization, and
directed the creation of the Lois clone, the clones of the President and
the head of the Secret Service, as well as the two into which he had
intended to shift himself and her in order to escape the law and Superman.
Could someone from his organization have been behind this?

"Jimmy!" she called.

"Yeah?" Jimmy answered from behind her.  He was holding a stack of files
which appeared in imminent danger of collapsing onto the floor.  "Can it
wait just a minute?"

"Sure.  Just come back right away.  There's something I need you to do."

A few moments later she was issuing directions to Jimmy in typical Lois Lane
style.  "I need you to find out the whereabouts of Dr. Isaac Mamba--is he
still in jail (I hope) and where--and Luthor's body servant, Asabi, and
anyone else they tied in with that clone project.  I think it was mostly
Mamba, but there were one or two others involved in it, or so Clark said."

"Sure," Jimmy said.  He looked doubtfully at her.  "Are you all right,
Lois?"

"Of course I'm all right.  What makes you think I'm not?"

"Well, I mean, the clones.  You had a pretty bad time with them, and, uh..."
His voice trailed off as she fixed him with a hard stare.

"Jimmy, that was nearly two years ago--well, over a year and a half, anyway.
This is about a story.  I need the information, so get to it, will you?"

"Uh, sure."  Jimmy gave her another worried look before he turned to obey.
Lois glared at his retreating back for a moment.  Wasn't she *ever* going to
be allowed to forget that business?

She dug in the bottom drawer of her desk for a moment, muttering under her
breath about interfering busybodies, a description which she knew underneath
didn't really fit Jimmy at all; but just now it seemed as if that whole
lousy incident was being dragged back to haunt her.  Finally, she turned up
one, lone double fudge crunch bar and ripped the wrapping off of it with
vengeful fingers.  A huge bite of the inoffensive candy bar made her feel
better, however, and she finished the chocolate with unladylike speed.

She was wiping her fingers on a tissue when the phone rang.  Hurriedly, she
dropped the chocolate-smeared item into the trash can and picked up the
receiver.  "Lois Lane."

There was no answer.  Like the call last night, there was complete silence
on the line.  Lois frowned.  "Hello?"

No answer; then suddenly there was sound, as if someone had released the
mute button.

"Hello?" Lois said, again.

"Lois?"  The word was whispered.  Just the one word.  Then, as suddenly,
she was listening to a dial tone.  The caller had hung up.

*     *     *     *     *

Lois put the phone down with a hand that was suddenly trembling.  What was
going on here?  All these weird things had been happening to her in less
than twenty-four hours.  Did they really have a stalker, as Inspector
Henderson suggested?

"Lois?  What's the matter?  You look like you've seen a ghost."  Perry was
standing beside her desk, looking down at her with concern.

"Oh, nothing."  Lois made a face.  "Another crank phone call."

"'Another' crank phone call?  Has there been more than one?"

"Yeah."  She debated for a moment.  "There was one last night.  And some car
tried to run me off the road yesterday evening.  Henderson thinks we might
have a stalker."

"Judas Priest!  Why didn't you tell me before?"

"What could you have done?"  Lois shrugged.  "Henderson's investigating."

Perry looked somewhat at a loss.  "Yeah, well, Clark knows, doesn't he?"

"Of course he knows, Chief.  It was all I could do to get him to leave me by
myself long enough for him to run to the grocery store last night.  I'll be
all right.  Don't worry about it."

Perry clearly wasn't convinced, but he allowed the subject to drop.  "Jimmy
tells me you have him checking up on Luthor's old cloning buddies."

Lois tried to subdue a flash of irritation.  "Why does everybody get worried
when that subject comes up?  Clark and I are running down leads on the fire
in Adrian Bender's office last night, and the bomb that blew up his car,
that's all.  There might be a connection with a file the police think was
stolen from his office and the old cloning experiments.  Does that make
everybody happy?  Good.  Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to drop the matter
of my involvement with the whole clone thing and get on with my job."

Perry held up his hands, placatingly.  "Okay, okay.  Sorry, honey.  I won't
say another word about it."

"Good."  She took a breath.  "Sorry, Perry.  I don't mean to get mad, but
all this weird stuff happening to us since last night has been a little
upsetting.  CJ was in the car with me when that nut tried to run me off the
road, and somebody broke into our house this morning and searched his
nursery.  I'm more worried about him than anything else."

Her editor nodded.  "I can understand that.  I don't want anything happening
to my godson, either.  You know, I've said it before, if you ever need
somebody to watch him for you, well, Alice and I would love to do it.
There's nothin' she likes better than babies, and I was pretty good with a
diaper pin in my day, too."  He paused, then added, "And if you feel like
you need to put him somewhere safe, sometime--just until this thing's
cleared up, you know--well..."

"Thanks, Chief," Lois said.  "Clark and I might take you up on that sooner
than you think."  She looked past him as Jimmy approached.  "Did you find
what I needed, Jimmy?"

"Some of it."  Jimmy glanced at Perry with a worried look.  "I don't think
you're going to like it, though."

"What is it?"

"Well..."  Jimmy set the printout he carried on her desk.  "Asabi's got this
little mysticism shop over on Birch Street.  He was never even arrested.
Nobody could prove he'd had anything to do with the clone thing.  They
didn't consider your statement to be convincing evidence."

"No kidding," she said, unhappily.  "How about Superman?"

"Well, he never really saw Asabi, you know.  Hearsay isn't considered
admissible."

"Yeah, I know.  I guess it never occurred to me to ask about him.  I kind of
had my mind on other things.  How about the others?"

"The lab workers claimed they didn't really know what Mamba was up to, that
he did all the high tech stuff, and that they didn't know Luthor was giving
the orders.  The charges were dropped."

"Of course," Lois said.  "And Mamba?  I hope he's still in prison, at
least."

Jimmy shook his head.  "Sorry.  His lawyer got him out on a technicality,
last May.  He disappeared right after that.  Nobody's seen him since."

"Why not?"  She threw up her hands.  "So everybody walked away scot-free.
It figures."

"Well, except Luthor," Jimmy pointed out.  "At least he got what he
deserved."

"Not in my book," Perry said, with uncharacteristic venom.  "If I'd had my
way he'd have roasted over a slow fire.  People like him never get what they
really deserve."

Lois felt her eyebrows rise.  She'd had no idea Perry felt so strongly about
Lex Luthor and his misdeeds.  It made sense, though.  Her editor had always
been more like a father to her than her real one, and was more protective of
her than anyone else, except Clark, sometimes to her vast annoyance.  And,
of course, there was what Luthor had tried to do to the Planet.

"It's probably just as well you didn't have your way, then," she said,
lightly.

Perry gave an embarrassed grin.  "Yeah.  Well, better get back to work.  You
let me know if anything else weird happens, you hear?"

"Sure, Perry."  She turned back to Jimmy.  "See if you can track down Mamba.
I don't like the fact that he's vanished like that, especially with this
thing about Bender.  He could be behind it.  I'm going to try to get hold of
Bobby Bigmouth, too, and see what he can find out."

"Well, I'll try," Jimmy said.  "Don't get your hopes up, though."

"Hey, look at that!" Lucille Evans's voice said, suddenly.  The young intern
was pointing at the newsroom monitors   "Superman's in Japan!"

Lois turned to watch with the rest, and was rewarded with the sight of her
husband carrying a young woman out of the wreckage of a building.  The
announcer was saying that this was a hospital in Kyoto, which seemed to be
one of the main casualties of the quake.  Amazingly enough, the hospital was
one of only four structures that had received much damage, and that only to
one wing.  Lois hoped there wouldn't be many casualties, not only for the
sake of the victims, but for Clark's as well.  Clark might be virtually
invulnerable physically, but emotionally it was another story.  Superman's
heart was surprisingly soft, and she suspected that being unable to help
someone in need hurt him more than he would ever admit, even to her.

With a sigh, she turned back to her desk.  She phoned Bobby Bigmouth, who
promised to try to discover the whereabouts of Mamba, but told her that
since his release from prison, upstate, there had been no word of him at
all.

*     *     *     *     *

Since CJ had entered their lives, Lois had formed the habit of leaving work
on time instead of staying until all hours, so she was ready to leave at
four in the afternoon.  She and Clark had been lobbying the people upstairs
for a day care center in the Daily Planet building, itself, for several
weeks now, but so far the powers-that-be had remained adamant.  Lois figured
that eventually they could be worn down, but in the meantime CJ spent his
day at the Little Cherubs' Day Care Center.  Lois couldn't imagine who had
thought up such a name, but the staff was competent and genuinely loved
children, so she and Clark, after researching just about every such facility
in the vicinity of the Daily Planet, had chosen it for CJ.  Now, she exited
the Daily Planet's underground parking lot from the rear of the building and
turned out onto the street.

It had been a stressful day, not so much in the physical sense, but
emotionally--well, she didn't want to have to repeat it.  Bobby Bigmouth
called back, eventually, with the unsurprising news that no one he knew had
a clue as to Mamba's whereabouts.  Jimmy had come up as dry.  And then the
bouquet of a dozen, long-stemmed red roses arrived for her.

At first she had been pleased at the thought that Clark must have sent them.
Only the writing on the card was not her husband's.  It said merely, "Love",
with no signature.  Lois unhesitatingly threw the card into the trash and
bestowed the roses on the fashion editor, to that lady's blank astonishment.

Now, as she turned left onto the side street, the thought of picking up CJ
and heading for home to a hot bath and dinner was uppermost in her mind.  At
four months, their little boy was developing a noticeable personality and
she found herself missing him during the time she was at work.  He had
dimples in his cheeks, exactly like Clark's when he smiled, and that
toothless little grin was enough to evoke maternal feelings that she would
never have believed she was capable of six months ago.  Clark would probably
be back this evening, too.  The reports of the Kyoto earthquake were more
reassuring than they had been earlier.  Casualties were minimal, and
Superman and the city emergency services apparently had gotten the situation
well under control.  She hoped it wouldn't be long before he got there.  She
was tired, and the thought of spending the evening alone, except for the
baby, wasn't appealing--especially in the light of recent events.

She had gone no more than three blocks before she noticed the car that was
following her.

She couldn't have said what made her notice; a sixth sense, maybe, but she
knew it at once.  It wasn't the grey sedan this time, but an old, green
Chevy with a battered front license plate which, just providentially,
happened to be smeared with mud.  The driver was hanging back, but something
about the way he drove drew her attention.

Lois turned left and watched.  Sure enough, a minute later the green car
rounded the corner.  She gauged her speed, so as to go through the next
traffic light as it turned yellow, and watched as the driver of the green
car stepped on the gas in order beat the light.  At the next intersection
she turned right, and sure enough the green car did, too.

That was enough for her.  Whether the tail was following her to learn where
CJ's day care center was or for some other purpose, there was no way she
would lead him to it.  There was a gas station a short distance ahead and to
the right.  Lois pulled into it.

She didn't really need gas, but she went through the motions, and while the
tank was filling up with the gallon or so of gas she called Perry on her
cellular phone.

The phone rang six times before someone picked it up.  "Daily Planet.
Editor's desk."

"Bobby, it's Lois Lane.  Get me Perry, right now.  It's an emergency!"

"Well, gee--" The office intern sounded doubtful.  "I don't know, Ms. Lane.
He's in a meeting."

"I don't care if he's having a conference with the President!"  Lois used
her "Mad Dog Lane" voice.  It insured instant obedience on the part of any
subordinate.  "Get him *now*, or I guarantee you'll be in Classifieds for
the rest of your professional life! This is an emergency!"

Perry was on the phone less than a minute later.  "Lois?  Why are you
scarin' the pants off of poor Bobby?"

"Perry?  Thank God!  I've got an emergency.  I'm being followed."

"Followed!"  Perry was suddenly all business.  "Who is it?"

"I don't know."  Lois risked a glance out of the corner of her eye at the
green car.  It was impossible to get a look at the driver at this distance.
"Look, I can ditch this guy, but I don't want to risk him following me to
CJ's day care center.  Can you pick him up for me?"

"No trouble at all."  Perry sounded grim.  "I'll have Jimmy meet you at the
brownstone with him.  Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Yeah.  I'll be fine if you'll pick up CJ."

"Don't worry about him.  You take care of your end and I'll take care of
mine."

"Thanks, Perry.  I owe you one."   Satisfied, she shut off the phone and set
the gas nozzle back in its holder, refused the pump computer's attempt to
sell her a car wash, and replaced the gas cap.  A moment later, she pulled
out of the station and proceeded to drive at a modest pace to the
headquarters of the Metropolis Police Department.  As she got out of the
Jeep, the green car drove past her and disappeared up the street.

When she arrived at the townhouse, Jimmy was waiting for her in his car,
with CJ.   She breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  Perry, who was on the list
of persons allowed to pick CJ up from day care, had done just as she'd
asked.

"Hi, Lois."  The young photographer got out of the car.  "Everything go
okay?"

"Yeah.  I drove by the MPD and filed another report.  He took off like a
rabbit when he saw where I was going."

"Did you get a look at him?"

She shook her head.  "Not enough of one.  I think it might have been the
same guy, though.  Hat, sunglasses, a brown beard and mustache.  It's got to
be a disguise, but I haven't a clue who it might be."

Jimmy boosted the baby out of the car seat and settled him on his hip.
"Here you go, kiddo.  You're getting cuter every day.  Man, he sure looks
like CK, Lois.  I know he was a private adoption.  Do you know his parents?"

"Um, a relative of Clark's, Jimmy."  She gave him the story she and Clark
had worked out to explain his sudden appearance to their friends and
acquaintances.  "A teenage mother who couldn't keep him."

"Oh, I get it.  I think it's pretty great that you guys took him."

"We wanted him, Jimmy.  Clark's always wanted kids, and the idea sort of
grew on me, too.  I wouldn't want to do without CJ, now."  Lois checked the
front door carefully for signs of entry.  "Let's go check the back, okay?  I
want to be sure nobody's there before we go in."

"Good idea."  Jimmy obediently followed her around to the back of the
townhouse, toting CJ.

The house showed no sign of forced entry, so Lois let them in through the
kitchen door.  Jimmy carried CJ into the living room, laid him on the
mattress of his play pen and moved the bright colored mobile within his
reach.  The baby gurgled and swung at the baubles hanging over him.  Jimmy
grinned.  "Bright little guy."

"We think so," Lois agreed.  She sank onto the couch, suddenly feeling very
tired.  Jimmy looked at her with a worried frown.

"Lois, would you like me to stay for awhile?  I don't mind."

The temptation was too strong.  Lois Lane, independent career woman, gave
in.  "Sure, Jimmy.  I'd appreciate that.  Clark should be here pretty soon."
At least she hoped he would.  "Are you hungry?"

"Well, kind of, " Jimmy said.  Lois correctly interpreted his expression.

"Oh, don't worry, Jimmy.  Clark made some stuff and froze it for days when
there wasn't any time to cook."

Jimmy grinned.  "In that case, sure."

"I'll feed CJ in about an hour.  He always wants to eat about six, for some
reason.  This won't take any time at all."  Lois went into the kitchen,
extracted one of Clark's frozen meals from the freezer and set it in the
oven.  She was just setting the temperature when the phone rang.  Quickly,
she punched in the time and went to answer.

"Hello?"  Remembering this afternoon, she braced herself for another dead
phone, but instead a comforting voice with a southern accent came over the
line.

"Lois?  Just checking to be sure everything was all right."

"It is, Perry.  I went by the MPD and whoever it was drove off.  Jimmy was
waiting for me when I got here.  Thanks for the help."

"No problem, honey.  If you need anything later, call my cell phone.  I'm
pickin' Alice up for dinner in awhile, so I won't be home."

"Thanks, Perry.  I don't think I'll need to interrupt your date."

"Don't you worry about that.  If anything happens that I can help with, you
call!  That's an order!"

She couldn't repress a giggle.  "Aye aye, sir!"

"Good.  I'll talk to you later."

Perry's call left her feeling better.  She went into the living room, to
discover that Jimmy had turned on the TV and was watching the tail end of a
baseball game that had gone into extra innings.  CJ was industriously
sucking on a fist, making loud, slurping noises.  Maybe she'd better get a
bottle ready for him, just in case, she thought.

Jimmy glanced around, looking worried.  "Everything all right?  That wasn't
one of those weird calls again, was it?"

"No, it was Perry, checking to be sure things were okay.  What's the score?"

"Huh?  Oh, it's 2-2.  The Metros are up.  The game's in the eleventh
inning."

The phone rang again and Lois went to answer it, hearing Jimmy mutter
something about "Grand Central Station".  She picked it up.

"Hello?"

Dead silence.  Lois froze in place, listening.  The silence continued for
several seconds, and in sudden fury she slammed it down.

Jimmy half rose to his feet.  "Lois?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  "It was him."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that."  Jimmy's face had gone pink with anger.
"What a sicko!  I'll bet he wouldn't be so tough if CK got hold of him!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Lois said.

"Well, I'm not CK, but if anybody tries to get in here, he's going to have
to go through me," Jimmy said.

Lois had a sudden, wild desire to giggle, but suppressed it for fear of
hurting her young friend's feelings.  Instead, she walked to the play pen
and picked CJ up.  The baby waved his arms and kicked vigorously, then
reached for her earrings.  She gently restrained the pudgy little hands and
shook her head.

"I don't think he'll dare," she said.  "So far he's been sneaking around.
He hasn't tried anything face to face."

The phone rang once more.  Lois caught her breath and she and Jimmy both
stared at the instrument.  The answering machine cut in after four rings,
gave it's spiel and beeped.

Nothing.  After a few seconds, the machine clicked off.

"Him again," Jimmy said.

"I guess so."  She turned her head at the faintest "whoosh-thump" on the
patio and felt suddenly better.  Clark was home.

A moment later he was knocking on the front door.  "Lois, it's me!"

Jimmy undid the chain.  "Sorry, CK.  We locked up everything.  We think that
guy tried to follow Lois to CJ's day care center."

"Are you okay?"  Clark looked immediately at Lois, who stood behind Jimmy,
holding the baby.

"Yeah."  She tilted her face up for him to kiss her, while Jimmy closed the
door behind him.  "Perry and Jimmy helped me out."  She filled him in on
the trick they had used.  Clark listened without comment until she had
finished.

"Good job," he said, finally.  "Thanks, Jimmy."

"No sweat, CK.  I just want to see this slimeball caught.  He called twice
just before you got here, and once at the office."

"And sent me flowers," Lois said.  "It's getting pretty creepy.  If he's
after CJ, we've got to come up with a way to catch him."

"It sounds like he's interested in CJ *and* Lois," Jimmy said.

"Yeah, I'd kind of sensed that," Lois said, dryly.  "Look, I've got one of
your casseroles in the oven, Clark, and Jimmy's invited for dinner.  Let's
eat.  Maybe we can think better after that."

"Sounds good to me."  Clark picked CJ neatly out of Lois's arms and held him
at eye level.  "How's my pal this evening?"

CJ gurgled at him, swiping at his glasses.  Clark neatly evaded the baby's
tiny fingers and supplied him with his keys instead.  "Here, buddy, why
don't you play with these for a bit, while Mommy and Daddy have something to
eat?"

*     *     *     *     *

"How did it go?" Lois asked, as she slammed the Jeep's door.

"Fine.  The staff was a little surprised to have Superman drop CJ off, but
since he's on the approved list nobody said anything."

"At least we know you weren't followed."  Lois pushed the button to summon
the elevator to the parking lot level.

"Were *you*?" he asked.

"I don't know.  I didn't see anyone, but that doesn't mean anything."

"True."  He put his arm protectively around her waist.

"Clark, this can't go on.  We have to do something."

"I agree.  It might not be a bad idea to send CJ for a visit--say to the
Midwest.  Just until we catch this guy.  And, you know, you could go along."

"Not for one minute, Kent!  I'm going to be here when we nail this weirdo.
Count on it.  Your mom and dad will take good care of CJ for a few days.
Why don't you give them a call when we get up to the newsroom?"

Clark hadn't expected anything else, but he had to try.  The elevator chimed
its arrival on Lois's last word.  The doors opened and they boarded in
silence, both immersed in their own thoughts.  Clark's were on Lois.  She
was looking tired and stressed, he thought.  She would never admit it to
anyone, of course, but he had been noticing it for a couple of days now.
This business was getting to her more than she was willing to let on to him.
He made a silent promise to himself that he would catch this person, whoever
he was.  His family's welfare was not something he was willing to allow
anyone to compromise.  Whoever was harassing his wife and son was going to
have Superman to cope with.

Lois was looking up at him, a little smile on her face.  She put an arm
around him and gave him a hug.  "Lighten up, Clark.  You're looking too much
like Superman to walk out into the newsroom like that.  It's going to be
okay."

"I know.  Together we can do anything."  He bent down to kiss her, and thus
was unaware when the doors opened until the whistles and cheers of the
spectators alerted them to the fact that they had arrived.  Perry, only a
few feet away, shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin.

"Come on, you two.  This is a newsroom, not the honeymoon suite.  You've got
work to do."

Clark found himself smiling, with a hint of embarrassment, but Lois was
unruffled as they exited the elevator.  "When we get finished with our
honeymoon, we'll let you know, Chief."

"Yeah, well, conduct it on your own time."  Their boss flicked Clark a wink.
"How did things go yesterday?  Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the help, Chief."

"Glad I could," Perry said.  "Still, it looks to me that you're going to
have to do something more.  He doesn't seem to be givin' up."

"We've already talked about it," Clark said.   "The plan goes into effect
this evening."

"Good."  Perry followed them down the ramp.  "In that case, what have you
got goin' this morning?"

Clark snagged a plain cake doughnut off the snack table and took a bite.
"We've got that City Council meeting in awhile.  Lois has got all of her
evidence documented and the witnesses lined up.  There's going to be some
red faces at City Hall when this comes out."

"Serves 'em right," Perry said, with a grin.  "I thought this batch was
sleazy, but even *I* never expected them to sink this low.  It may even get
a few of 'em booted, come the next election."

"Well, any decent person should be outraged," Lois said.  "I mean, first
they commit the city to buying tickets for any seats that don't sell to the
Metros' games, and promise to donate them to underprivileged kids, then we
find out they're giving them out to influential people for political favors.
Less than half the tickets are going where they're supposed to go.  That's
not only misappropriation of funds, it's just plain shameful!"  She marched
over to her desk and snapped on her computer.

Perry gave Clark a one-sided smile.  "Those guys have no idea what's gonna
hit 'em," he said.  "Mad Dog Lane's on the warpath, and some political heads
are gonna roll."  Clark chuckled at the mixed metaphor and nodded in full
agreement.

A few minutes later he set Lois's morning cup of coffee on her desk and
dropped into his own chair.  While his computer booted up, he scanned the
messages that had been left for him since the day before.  And almost
jumped out of his skin at the crash when Lois's mug hit the floor.  He was
out of his seat like a shot.  "Lois, are you all right?"

The look on her face answered him.  She was staring at her computer screen
in apparent shock.

"Lois?"  He bent quickly over her.  "What's wrong?"

"Look at this."  She pointed at the screen.

The e-mail was short and to the point.  It said simply, "Clark Kent does not
love you.  He is unfaithful.  Leave him."

Perry was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder.  Clark hadn't even
heard him approach.  Their boss's face darkened to an alarming shade of red.
"What *is* this garbage?"

"It's *him* again," Lois said.

Clark took her hand in a tight grip.  "Honey, you *know* none of that is
true."

Lois glanced up with a half-smile, but he was frightened at the drawn look
on her face.  "Of course I know it, Clark.  But I can't seem to get away
from him.  He's always there in the background, somehow."  Abruptly, her
expression altered to the determined look he knew.  "But that doesn't mean I
have to take it.  We're going to get this sicko if it's the last thing we
do!"

"That's the Lois Lane I know."  Clark squeezed her hand in relief.

"You can count on it."  Perry's face had resumed its normal color, but he
still looked grim.  "Olsen!  Drop what you're doin' and get over here now!"

"Just bringing the doughnuts, Chief."  Jimmy skidded to a stop by the desk.

"I'll take 'em.  Ten to one this e-mail address is a fake.  Can you trace
it?"

"I don't know."  Jimmy peered at Lois's computer screen.  "I can try.  It's
that creep again, huh?"

"Yeah.  Get busy and track him down!"

Jimmy gave Clark a pained expression, but nodded.  "I'll do my best."

*     *     *     *     *

Four hours later, Lois and Clark returned to the Daily Planet from City
Hall.  They had asked several awkward questions and received a number of
unsatisfactory explanations for the events in question.  Lois had apparently
accepted every word at face value, and planned to print each answer, word
for word, with the rest of her article and allow the readers to make up
their own minds.  Clark suspected the result might make for some interesting
drama in government during the next couple of months.

Lois pulled into the Planet's underground lot slowly, glancing around for a
parking space.  Clark lifted his glasses.  "There's one two aisles over that
way," he was beginning, when something struck them hard from the rear,
jolting them forward several feet.  Clark twisted about, to see the minivan
which had just tail-ended them, the driver looking very shaken.  He turned
quickly to his wife.

"Lois, are you okay?" he demanded.  "Are you hurt?"

"No, I think I'm all right."  Lois winced and rubbed the back of her neck.
Clark lifted his glasses and surreptitiously x-rayed the spot.  He grimaced
slightly.  Lois was going to have a very sore neck by tonight, but none of
the damage was serious.  He got out of the car and went back to the other
driver.

"Are you hurt?"

The man started to shake his head, and groaned.  "I think I'm all right.
Are you guys okay?"

"I think so.  What happened?"

"My foot slipped off the brake.  Blast it!  My insurance company's gonna
have a fit!  I just got my van back.  Some guy tail-ended *me* six weeks
ago!"

Lois had gotten out and was examining the back of her beloved Jeep.  Clark
and the other driver exchanged insurance and driver's license information,
and the other man eventually drove away, amid profuse apologies.  Clark
noted that Lois remained silent during the exchange, but her jaw had a grim
set to it.  He turned to her after the man had disappeared.

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?"

"Haven't you already checked?" she asked, a sarcastic note to her voice.
Clark smiled slightly.

"Your neck's going to be sore tonight, but I didn't see any serious damage.
Look, why don't you go on up to the newsroom and sit down?  I'll take care
of the tow truck.  We aren't going to be driving the Jeep for awhile by the
looks of it.  That back wheel well is pretty much crushed."

"No kidding!  That *idiot*!  Where did he get his license?  Out of a
crackerjack box?"  Abruptly she swore, using language that he had rarely
heard from her.  He could see that she was near tears and put his arms
around her.

"It'll be all right, Lois.  It's not the end of the world, and it wasn't
your fault.  It's just a little inconvenience."

She sighed.  "Oh, I know.  It's just that it had to happen *now*, of all
times, with all these other things happening, too."

He kissed her, gently.  "At least you aren't hurt seriously.  That's all I
care about.  The car can be fixed."

It took a little more persuading, but at last she stepped into the elevator
and it proceeded upward.  Clark took the cellular phone from his jacket
pocket.

A tremendous explosion shook the building, knocking him back several feet.
He picked himself up, ears ringing.   The Jeep had exploded, he realized
with a shock.  The remainder of their vehicle lay on its side, little flames
licking at the frame.  The cars on both sides of it were blackened, the
water fountain by the elevators torn completely off the wall, and water was
spraying from the broken pipes.  The doors of the elevator had been blown
away.  So had his clothes.  He was in his Superman outfit.

"Lois!"  Instantly he x-rayed the elevator car, and breathed a sigh of
relief.  The car was stalled, and Lois was trapped between floors, but she
wasn't hurt.  Without hesitation, he dived into the shaft and zipped up to
open the car from the top.  In an instant he was holding her tightly in his
arms.  "Honey, are you hurt?"

"What happened?"  Lois sounded slightly dazed.

"The Jeep exploded.  It may have been a car bomb."  He lowered them down the
elevator shaft once more.  "Stay back, okay?  Don't get too close.  There
might be more explosions."

He set her down, and turned his head, x-raying first the other elevators,
which were, fortunately, empty, and then the building.  Incredibly, except
for the area immediately around the Jeep, there wasn't much damage.  Two
steel beams were cracked, and he proceeded to weld them into place with his
heat vision, then extinguished the remaining flames licking at their Jeep
with a blast of icy breath.  He grimaced at the sight of their shattered
vehicle.  No one was ever going to be driving that again.  The Cherokee was
a total loss.  Sirens were approaching fast; someone must have called the
police.  He glanced at his wife.  She was leaning against one of the
undamaged cars, looking more pale and shaken than he liked.  He went over to
her.

"Honey, are you okay?"

She nodded.  "I'm all right, Clark."

He wasn't so sure, but at that point the first police car came screaming
into the parking lot, followed by two more, and he had to put on his
"Superman face" as Lois called it.  Jimmy Olsen and Ralph appeared a few
minutes later, and the opportunity for intimate conversation was lost.

*     *     *     *     *

"There's no doubt of it, Clark."  Henderson's voice sounded grim.  "The bomb
was placed under your car.  There was a radio-controlled trigger.  We found
enough of it to be sure."

"So it was triggered manually."

"Yeah.  Whoever was responsible waited until they figured Lois was out of
range, hit the switch and ran like the devil.  It was a deliberate attempt
to kill you."

"Well, it was pretty obvious he intended to kill somebody.  If Superman
hadn't shown up when he did, it would have worked," Clark said.  He glanced
around the newsroom at his co-workers, and at his wife.  Superman had
assured the authorities that the building was structurally sound and safe
for occupancy, and they had taken his word for it, so the work around him
was proceeding at a hectic pace.  Lois was typing away at her keyboard,
pausing every now and then to rub her neck.  Clark subdued a wave of anger
at their mysterious stalker who was so willing to risk the lives of all
these people, and especially of Lois.  He couldn't have been certain that
she was out of range of the explosion.

"Are you listening to me, Clark?" Inspector Henderson's voice asked.

"Yeah," Clark said.  "Thanks, Inspector.  Look, I'd appreciate any
information you come up with on this.  I promise not to print anything
without permission."

"I know you won't.  Look, there *is* one thing you should probably know.  I
know you're investigating the Bender case.  The explosive that blew up his
car is quite possibly the same type used on yours.  Don't quote me on that."

"I won't."

"You watch yourself," Henderson said, with uncharacteristic concern.
"Whoever this head case is, he may have taken his obsession with your wife
to the next level."

"I'd kind of gathered that," Clark said.  "If I find out anything, I'll get
in touch with you, Inspector.  Thanks."

Henderson hung up, and Clark put down the phone slowly.  He walked over to
Lois, rested his hands on her shoulders and began to gently rub her neck,
which he knew from the way she was acting must already be aching.  A few
darts of heat vision into the stiffening muscles helped to ease her
discomfort as he rubbed.  He could see her tense shoulders relaxing.

"That feels good, Clark," she murmured.  "Thanks."

"No problem," he said.  "How are you feeling, besides the neck?"

She leaned back in her chair, enjoying the neck rub.  "All right.  A little
shaken up, but all right."

"Good," he said.  "I was kind of worried there for awhile.  How about dinner
at Antonio's after I drop CJ off, tonight?"

"That sounds like heaven."  Lois looked up at him and he bent down to kiss
her lightly on the lips.

"Uh, guys?"  Jimmy's voice, as might have been expected, interrupted the
kiss.

Clark straightened up and glanced at their young friend in resignation.
"Nice timing, Jim."

"Sorry."  Jimmy had turned slightly pink.  "Look, you know that e-mail from
this morning?  The Chief was right; it was a fake return address.  I tried
to follow it, but it was mirrored through several servers and somewhere
along the line I lost the trace.  I'm sorry."

Clark sighed.  "That's all right, Jimmy.  You did your best.  I guess we'll
just have to do this the old fashioned way."

"Yeah.  It just burns me up that this guy is getting away with all this.  I
mean, he tried to *kill* you, CK!"

"I know.  I guess I'm lucky Superman was keeping his eye on me."

Lois's desk phone chose that moment to ring.  She picked it up.  "Lois
Lane."  Both men paused, alert, remembering the calls of the previous night.
Lois listened a moment, and her face whitened.  She slammed down the phone.

"The day care center is on fire!"

If he hadn't known it was impossible, Jimmy might later have sworn that both
Lois and Clark had flown out of the newsroom, they disappeared so fast.
Clark hoped no one had noticed the speed with which he moved them both out,
or the gust of wind that blew papers around the room as soon as they were
out of everyone's sight.  Within a few seconds they were landing in front of
the Little Cherubs' Day Care Center.  Superman set Lois down on the lawn and
entered the building in a blur.

The main room was full of smoke, but the staff was acting swiftly and
efficiently to evacuate the children.  He moved quickly to locate the source
of the fire, a trash can in the kitchen stuffed with oily rags and papers,
soaked in some kind of chemical.  It was pouring out a cloud of dense smoke,
but one blast of super-cooled breath froze the contents solid.  Once the
fire itself was out he proceeded to clear the building of smoke.  As he
dispersed the worst of the cloud he heard the sirens of the approaching fire
trucks cut off in front of the Center.  A moment later a fire fighter opened
the kitchen door.  "Superman?"

"Yeah.  Check this out, will you?" Superman didn't bother to try to explain
why he had shown up so quickly at what was, to say the least, a minor fire.
He thrust the trash can at the woman.  "It looks like it was deliberate."

She took the receptacle, and she and the two men who had followed her
through the door began to examine the frozen offering.  But Superman's
attention was no longer on them.  A day care worker's voice said, sharply,
"Where's CJ?"

For an instant terror tugged at him, then he was responding in the way he
had trained himself to do in all emergencies, with cool, methodical
judgement.  He fanned his x-ray vision about the building, looking for his
son.  CJ was not on the premises.  In a gust of air, he was outside and
lifting off, using his enhanced eyesight to scan the whole area.

A grey car was driving away from the scene a little too fast for his taste,
and he x-rayed it.  There was CJ, lying loose on the front seat.  He arrowed
down, and an instant later the car was suspended in mid air, fifty feet from
the ground, carefully tilted backward to protect the child on the passenger
seat.  Superman, supporting the vehicle with one hand under the top edge of
the window frame, fingers leaving dents in the metal of the roof, reached
through the opening and scooped up his son.

The driver gave one panicky look at him and tried to open his door.

"I wouldn't," Clark said, dryly.  "Unless you can fly."

The man looked down and swallowed, then back at the Kryptonian holding his
car casually in one hand as he gently cradled the baby in the other arm.
Clark's eyes met those of the kidnapper with an expression in them that
would terrify the hardiest of souls.  "I don't suppose you'd care to explain
what you thought you were doing," he said, almost mildly, but the apparent
mildness was his own way of covering the jolt of recognition.  The driver
was the same man who had tail-ended their Jeep this morning.

Clark glanced down.  He could see Lois in the crowd, and knew she had seen
him.  He looked back at the driver, and the next words he spoke caused the
man's face to go even paler than it already had.

"Do you know what will happen to you if I let go of this car?"

The other man nodded, jerkily.

"Good.  Then don't give me any reason to be distracted.  Do we understand
each other?"

Again that shaky nod.  Superman smiled without humor, and with a burst of
speed, he headed for MPD Headquarters to hand his prize over to Inspector
Henderson.  Maybe now they would get some answers.

*     *     *     *     *

"His name is Robert Harris," Clark was saying as he and Lois, carrying CJ,
entered the Daily Planet a couple of hours later.  "He had no idea who it
was that hired him.  The description he gave matches the driver of the car
that tried to run you off the road--brown hair, a mustache and a short
beard.  Our kidnapper says he's about my height, but slimmer, and he wore
sunglasses.  Not a lot of help, I'm afraid.  He was hired to do that job on
us this morning, and to kidnap CJ, but he'd never seen the man before a
couple of days ago.  He was apparently paid cash--five thousand up front,
and another five thousand to be paid when the job was completed.  They were
supposed to meet right afterwards, but of course whoever it was must have
realized pretty fast that something had gone wrong.  He may even have been
watching, because he wasn't at the meeting place when I checked, half an
hour later."

"Not your ordinary stalker."  Lois was trying hard to keep her voice cool
and steady, but Clark could hear the roughness underneath.  This incident
had shaken her far more than she would ever willingly admit.

"No.  I wish I could figure out what's behind this."  He kept an arm tightly
around her in what he knew to be a futile gesture of protection, but he
couldn't help it.  His family was threatened, and the need to defend them
was almost overpowering.  It had been all he could do, a couple of hours
ago, to restrain the urge to seize his son's kidnapper by the throat and
demand an explanation for the reign of terror they had been enduring for the
past three days.  It probably wouldn't have done any good, but it would have
been immensely satisfying.

The elevator deposited them on the newsroom floor, and Clark saw at once
that a new trial awaited his harried wife.  Ellen Lane was sitting beside
Lois's desk, obviously waiting for them.

She saw them at nearly the same instant Clark saw her, and rose to her feet,
almost knocking the chair over.  The origin of his wife's babble gene was
instantly obvious.

"There you are!" she said, her voice trembling on the edge of hysteria, as
they descended the ramp toward her.  "I've been waiting here for hours for
you!  Where have you been?  The most terrifying thing happened to me when I
got home from Gena's this afternoon!  I tried to call you, but they said you
were out!  Of course you'd be out!  You're never here when I need help, and
I needed help desperately, so I came over to wait for you.  Your father was
in his lab and not taking any calls, not even from me.  I'm going to talk to
him about that receptionist of his.  She wouldn't listen to a thing I said
about it being an emergency, and..."

"Mother!"  Lois broke in on the monologue, since it seemed to be in danger
of straying far afield from the original subject.  "What happened?"

Brought up short, Ellen seemed to take in the fact that her grandson was
present.  "Oh, hello, darling!  How's Grandma's little angel today?"

CJ, hearing his grandmother's familiar voice, responded with a wide smile.
Ellen batted her eyes at him.  "Ooh, Sweetie, you're growing so fast!  You
know, Lois," she added, in quite another voice, "I don't get to see him
nearly as much as I'd like..."

Clark intercepted the new topic before it became established.  "I'm sorry we
weren't here, Ellen.  We had an emergency.  What's the trouble?"

"Oh!  Well, I got home from Gena's--she's my neighbor down the hall, who
just moved in last week--and the front door of my apartment had been pried
open!  Well, whoever it was was gone, and nothing was taken except a
picture, but they turned the apartment upside down!  And I tried to get hold
of you, but--"

"*What* picture was taken?" Lois interrupted.

"The one you gave me that Clark took of you holding CJ in front of his new
day care center.  I can't imagine why anyone would have taken it, but it's
gone, and my nerves have been completely shattered by this whole, horrible
affair.  It's so violating to know that your own home has been invaded by
some complete stranger, and all your things pawed over..."

Clark let Ellen ramble on as he and Lois exchanged a glance.  That explained
a lot.  Their stalker had failed to discover CJ's day care center by
following Lois, so he had shifted his approach to Lois's mother.  They
should have thought of that sooner.

"Are you listening to me?"  Ellen demanded.

"Of course, Ellen."  Clark took her arm and guided her back to her chair.
"I'm sure it was a pretty frightening experience.  Would you like me to come
over tomorrow and put new locks on your doors?"

That brought her up short.  "Why, that's very nice of you to offer, Clark.
I could never depend on Sam for things that needed maintenance around the
house.  I remember--"

"Lois!  Clark!"  Perry's bellow cut through the noise of the busy newsroom.
"In my office!  Now!"

Clark nudged his wife.  "You go ahead, Lois.  I'll be right there."

"Okay."  Lois threw him a puzzled glance, but cooperated.  "I'll call you,
Mother.  We'll have to talk about this later."  She headed for Perry's
office.  Clark glanced after her, then turned to Ellen.

"Lois is pretty upset right now, Ellen" he said, quietly.  "I didn't want to
bring it up in front of her, but there was an attempt to kidnap CJ from his
day care center a little while ago.  Superman prevented it, but I suspect
the break-in at your apartment may have been how the kidnapper found out
where he was."

"Oh, my god..."

"No, it's all right," Clark said.  "You saw CJ, and he's okay, but I'm really
concerned about Lois.  I want to be sure she goes home and gets some rest,
and she won't if she's worried about you.  I don't want anything to happen
to you, either."  He gave her his most charming smile.

"What do you want me to do?" Ellen asked.  "I'd do anything for Lois, even
though she doesn't believe it.  I--"

"I think she does," Clark said.  "I'd feel a lot better about your safety,
myself, if you were at Sam's tonight rather than your own place.  I promise
I'll come over tomorrow and personally install new locks on your doors.  I'd
do it tonight, but there's a few things in connection with this situation
that I simply have to get done."

Ellen nodded in a businesslike way and stood up.  "You're right, Clark.
I'll do it.  Tell Lois not to worry about me, all right?"

"Thanks, Ellen.  I knew I could count on you," Clark said.  "Now I'd better
get in there before Perry takes my head off."

Clark entered Perry's office a minute later.  Lois stared at him in
astonishment.  "How did you get rid of her so quickly?"

Clark grinned.  "Just because you can't handle your mother doesn't mean I
can't.  She's going to stay at your father's tonight.  I think she'll be
safer there, and I'll go over and fix her doors for her tomorrow.  Now, what
did you need, Chief?"

"What happened, Clark?  Lois said someone tried to kidnap CJ?"

"Yeah.  Superman stopped him."  Clark reached out to stroke their son's
cheek with one, large finger.  "He took the kidnapper to Henderson, but it
wasn't our stalker.  The stalker may have hired him."

"Judas Priest!  What are you going to do now?"

"Superman has some friends who are going to take care of CJ for us for a few
days--just until this is cleared up."

"I think that's a good idea.  You can investigate the business a whole lot
better if you don't have to worry about him."  Perry looked a little
reassured.  "I want you to drop anything less important and concentrate on
this psycho, whoever he is.  I'm going to reassign your stories
temporarily--except the City Council thing," he added hastily, as Lois
opened her mouth.  "But right now I think you should go on home for the day.
It's almost quitting time, anyway.  You look like you could both use it."

Quitting time?  Two hours early?  Clark didn't comment.  Perry wasn't the
editor of the Daily Planet because he was stupid, after all.  He must have
noticed how rough this whole day had been on Lois, and it was also
noticeable that Lois didn't argue.  Her neck must be sorer than a bad tooth
right now, Clark thought.

They took off from the roof.  If anyone was thinking about following Lois or
CJ anywhere else Clark didn't intend to give him the chance, although it
seemed likely that their stalker would try some other approach now that his
little kidnapping scheme had gone awry.  If they could only figure out the
reason behind this it might help, he thought.  There must be something they
were missing--that, or the guy was just plain nuts.

At home, Lois packed a bag for CJ.  Neither liked the idea of sending him
away but they both knew that his safety was the most important thing right
now, and neither Lois nor Clark was in any doubt that Martha and Jonathan
would be completely delighted with the opportunity to have their small
grandson all to themselves for a few days.  In fact, Martha had said as much
that morning when Clark called her to explain.  When dusk fell, Superman took
off, carrying his all-important burden, headed for Kansas, and Lois made a
beeline for the bathtub and a long, hot soak.

She had been half-drowsing in the deliciously warm water for nearly
forty-five minutes when the phone rang.  Half awake, she fumbled for the
handset.  As of this morning, Henderson had a tap on the phone.  If their
stalker called, and she could keep him on the line for a few vital seconds,
they might be able to trace the call to its source.

"Hello?"

"Hello," a slightly nervous voice on the other end said.  "May I speak to
Mr. Clark Kent, please?"

Instantly, Lois was wide awake.  "He just stepped out for a moment," she
said, cautiously.  "This is his wife.  May I help you?"

The only sound on the other end was the click of the receiver.

Thoroughly awake now, Lois climbed slowly out of the tub and reached for a
towel.  The hot water had loosened her stiff muscles, and she felt better,
physically, but that phone call...

At least it wasn't their stalker, even if he *had* hung up on her.

She dressed carefully.  Clark had promised to take her to Antonio's when he
returned, and she was certainly ready for a nice break, a quiet dinner with
her husband, and a little peace and quiet.  She hoped he would be back soon.

The phone rang again.  Again she picked up the handset.  "Hello?"

Silence.  It was him.  She licked lips suddenly gone dry.   "Hello?" she
repeated.

The blank deadness was replaced by background sounds a little too muffled
for her to identify.  "Hello?" she said again, more loudly.  "Who is this?"

"He doesn't love you, Lois."  The whisper was chillingly familiar, and yet
completely strange.  "Leave him.  I've missed you."

"Who are you?" she shouted.  "What do you want?  Leave us alone!"

There was no answer, except a dial tone.  He was gone again.

Slowly, she set down the handset.

In a gust of air, Superman was beside her.  "What happened?  Are you all
right?"

"That was him on the phone again," Lois said.  "I don't know if he stayed
long enough for Henderson to do a trace.  Oh, and you had a call.  He
wouldn't talk to me."

Clark frowned.  "That's odd.  Well, if it's important he'll call back."  He
stepped back, deliberately looked her up and down, and wolf-whistled.  "Wow!
Give me a few seconds to get a shower and change and we're off to Antonio's.
I made reservations before we left work."

*     *     *     *     *

Lois awoke the next morning with Clark gently shaking her shoulder.  "Honey,
it's seven o'clock.  Time to get up."

"*Seven*!  We're late!"

"No, we're not.  I called Perry and told him you were sleeping in this
morning.  He thought it was a good idea.  Go ahead and get ready while I
make breakfast."

"Honestly, Clark, I'm not made of glass!"

"I know that.  But you were in an accident yesterday, and I know you're
still sore all over.  Go on.  A hot shower will feel good."

She made a face at him.  "You're so smug when you're right."

The phone rang, cutting off his reply.  Lois froze for a second.  The
ringing of the phone was becoming an unpleasant experience.  Clark picked it
up.  "Hello?  Oh, Dr. Klein!  What can I do for you?"

Lois relaxed.  At least a call from Dr. Klein was safe.  She slid her feet
into their bedroom slippers and reached for her robe.  Clark's next words
brought her to a full stop.

"You had a break-in?  What happened?"

Lois scrambled across the bed, picked up the handset and pressed it to her
ear.

"...Need you to get hold of Superman," Dr. Klein was saying.  "Whoever it
was tried to get into the Kryptonite vault.  Actually, they *did* get into
the vault.  Fortunately, we'd moved everything into the new high-security
vault last month, so he didn't get anything.  Still..."

"I'll pass the word to Superman," Clark promised.  "Did your security
cameras get any pictures?"

"No, nothing.  They were all damaged, somehow.  We found traces of arcing in
the circuit card assemblies consistent with an emp, although we have no idea
how it could have been done..."

"Dr. Klein, in English, please," Clark said.

"Sorry."  The scientist cleared his throat.  "Basically, the electronics of
the cameras were all fried simultaneously, with something like an
electromagnetic pulse.  We're trying to reverse engineer it to try to
recreate the technology, but so far..."  He paused, and said in quite a
different voice,  "We haven't a clue how they did it."

"Sounds like some kind of military weapon," Lois said.  The thought of
Bureau 39 popped instantly into her head.  Could they be behind this?

"Maybe," Dr. Klein said.  "Anyway, I thought Superman should know."

"You did the right thing," Clark told him.  "I'll be sure he gets the word."

When Dr. Klein had hung up, Lois voiced her idea.  Clark frowned,
considering it.  "I suppose it's possible, but we haven't heard from Bureau
39 since Trask was killed."

"But it *could* be."

He sighed.  "Yeah, it could be.  We certainly can't rule it out.  There's
something I want to check on when we get to the office, though.  Go and get
your shower.  I'll make breakfast."

*     *     *     *     *

There were two messages waiting on Lois's desk when they got to the Daily
Planet.  One was from their insurance company which promised to have a
substitute vehicle available for them by this afternoon, as soon as the
paperwork was processed.  The other was from her mother.

She called Ellen back, but got no answer either at her mother's apartment or
from her father's.  Clark was also on the phone, and she saw him frown.
After a moment he put down the receiver and turned to her.  "Well, that was
enlightening.  Sort of."

"What was?"

"That was my source in the Coroner's Office.  They left me a message. You
remember, they were trying to identify Bender's body positively, for the
insurance company?"

"I remember.  Have they identified him?"

"No.  They have no idea who it is, but they know who it *isn't*.  Adrian
Bender had three gold crowns and a bridge.  This guy didn't have anything
but a couple of silver fillings."

"So Bender isn't dead!"

"Well, he isn't the person who was in the car when it exploded, anyway."

"Then who on Earth..."

Clark shook his head.  "I don't know, but I've got an idea.  Let me check a
couple of things.  What did your Mom want?"

"I couldn't get hold of her.  I'm sure she'll call back."

"Probably.  I have to go over this afternoon and replace her locks.
Shouldn't take long."  He turned back to his desk and picked up the phone
again.  Lois brought her attention to her own computer, and began putting
the finishing touches on her City Council expose.  The Honorable Mayor was
not going to be happy with her, and neither were a lot of city councilmen,
but that was just too bad.

Half an hour later, Clark set a cup of cafe latte on the desk next to her
hand.  "Here.  Thought you could use the pick-me-up."

"Thanks."  She sat back, stretching, and rubbed the back of her neck.  It
was aching again, and she reached automatically for the aspirin.  "Did you
find out anything?"

"Yeah."  He moved behind her to give her one of his magic neck-rubs.
"There's been a string of car thefts in Bender's section of town in the
last two weeks.  It's possible the thief got more than he bargained for
this time."

"Sounds like it," Lois said.  "That feels good, Clark.  So, I guess we can
assume Bender is probably alive somewhere and hiding out?"

"Well, somebody *did* try to kill him.  If he has any idea why, he might
decide to go into hiding."

"Do you think it might have anything to do with that empty folder?  'Project
Doppelganger'?"

"It could.  I'd sure like to talk to him for a few minutes," Clark said.

"Yeah, me too."  She saw Clark lift his head suddenly in his listening
pose.  "What is it?"

"Train derailment in Pennsylvania.  Possible toxic chemical spill.  I've
gotta go."

"Go."

"Promise me you won't go anywhere alone while I'm gone?"

"Go!"

He gave her a quick kiss and headed for the stairs, tugging at his tie.

It was twenty minutes later that Ellen walked in, accompanied by Sam Lane.
Lois looked up from her computer screen as they approached her desk.  Ellen
was obviously excited, and Sam looked worried.

"Lois!" Ellen said.  "I've found something I think you ought to see!"

"What is it, Mother?"  Lois smiled at her, pleased to see her mother's mood
of the previous day had completely changed.

"How are you feeling, Princess?" her father interrupted.  "Ellen told me
what happened to CJ yesterday.  Is he all right?"

"Yes," Lois said.  "He's staying with some friends until we've solved this
thing."

"I think that's a very good idea.  Your mother found something this morning
that disturbed me.  I think you should look at it.".

Ellen opened her purse and withdrew a plastic bag.  "See this?"

Lois examined it.  The contents appeared to be a wrinkled paper napkin.
"What is it?"

"Well, your father and I went by my apartment this morning.  Oh, and Clark
doesn't need to come by to fix the locks.  Sam did it for me, already.  I
was picking things up in the nursery, and I found this under CJ's little
dresser.  It's a napkin, see?"  She flattened out the bag on Lois's desk.
"It's from some place called 'The Bayside Inn'.  The name's printed on the
corner.  I've never been to it in my life!  It's got my address scribbled on
it!"  She paused, while Lois examined the writing.  "Don't you see?  Whoever
broke in must have dropped it!"

*     *     *     *     *

The Bayside Inn was a small, comfortable motel with a little cafe on one
side, which commanded a partial view of the harbor.  Before the construction
of the condominiums that Lois could see from the parking lot, the view must
have been pretty impressive, but the pressures of Metropolis's growing
population had obviously changed that some years ago.

The area was still fairly good, though, in spite of the fact that Suicide
Slum actually began barely four blocks away.  The taxi pulled to a stop in
the parking lot.

"Twenty-two thirty-six," the driver said.  "Do you want me to wait?"

"Yes, please," Lois said.  She paid him, got out and walked briskly toward
the office.

The manager was a huge bear of a man with curly, red hair, who seemed ten
feet tall from Lois's perspective, considerably taller even than Clark, with
massively muscled shoulders and a broad, pink face that made her think of a
baked ham.  Even her inch and a half heels gave her no advantage here, she
found herself thinking as she tilted her sore neck backward to look up into
his eyes.

The eyes were reassuring.  They were bright blue, with a twinkle of
amusement in them as he took in her astonishment at his size.  "Can I help
you, Miss?" he asked in a mild, courteous voice.

"Uh, maybe," Lois said.  "My name is Lois Lane.  I work for the Daily
Planet."  She displayed her press pass.

"Oh, really?"  He glanced at the card. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Lane.  I've
read your articles.  I'm Ambrose Johnson, the manager.  Is there something I
can do for you?"

"I'm looking for a man," she said.  "This person may have stayed here, I
don't know under what name..."  She described what little she had seen of
her stalker, and added details from the kidnapper's story.  "Has someone
like that been here, recently?"

"That depends." He raised an eyebrow.  "Why would you be looking for him?"

"I'm trying to find out who he is."

"Well, I can't really give you that kind of information unless there's a
good reason, ma'am."

"He was here, wasn't he?"  She looked up into his face and read surprising
sympathy there.  "Please, you've got to tell me.  It's really important.
He's...I think he's been stalking me."

The pleasant expression changed.  "*Stalking* you?  Like following you,
or--"

"That, too.  Has he been here?"

He regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, then appeared to make some
decision and nodded.  "For the last four weeks.  He checked out this
morning."

"Oh."  She closed her eyes.  "Can you describe him?  I've only gotten
glimpses of him, twice.  I didn't really get a very good look at him."

Ambrose Johnson frowned, trying to visualize his former guest.  "I'd say he
was about six feet tall, kind of slender. His hair was sort of dark brown, I
think, and curly, and his beard and mustache were more reddish-brown, than
plain brown."

"Do you remember the color of his eyes?"

"Hmmm..." Johnson frowned.  "Can't be sure.  He usually was wearing
sunglasses, and kept to himself a lot, but I think they might have been
brown."

"Did he drive a car?"

Johnson shook his head.  "No.  He had a friend pick him up, sometimes.  A
couple of different guys, really."  He was obviously making a sincere effort
to remember.  "I think one of them drove a grey car...the other, maybe
brown, or green.  I'm not sure.  I'm sorry."

"Do you think you could give a description of him to a police artist?"

He nodded. "I can sure try."  Suddenly he snapped his fingers.  "I can show
you his signature.  Would that help?"

The name on the register was Lyndon P. Lippincott, in elegant, florid
letters.  Lois scanned it quickly with her pocket scanner.  Ambrose Johnson
watched her in silence.

"What's he done?" he asked, finally.

"Lippincott...or whatever his name really is?"

"Yeah."

Lois smiled without humor.  "He tried to run me off the road.  Phone
calls...and he blew up my Jeep and tried to kill my husband.  Does that
count?"

Johnson said something under his breath.  "You tell your artist friend that
I'll be ready to help any time he wants to talk to me, Ms. Lane.  I know
your reputation--you and that partner of yours, Mr. Kent--you speak up for
the little guys when nobody else will.  It's about time we did something for
you."

*     *     *     *     *

In spite of her request, the cab driver was not waiting in the parking lot
when Lois emerged from the motel office.  She cussed softly under her breath
and walked out to the street, looking around for a taxi to hail.  They were
usually swarming around whenever you didn't want them, so of course now,
when she needed one, there were none in sight.

She glanced up and down the street.  No cabs.  Well, Ambrose Johnson would
probably let her use his phone to call one.  She had started to turn to
retrace her steps to the motel office when a battered, green car braked to a
stop in front of her.  A narrow face, chin coated with a heavy, five o'clock
shadow, grinned out the window at her.  "Hey, lady, need a lift?"

"No, thank you."  Lois retreated quickly, but he flung the door open and
jumped out.

"Come on, lady.  I ain't gonna hurt ya."  He made a grab for her arm.  To
her horror, Lois caught a glimpse past him at the driver of the car.  He
wore a coat with the collar turned up to hide his face, and his head was
turned partially away, but the brown, wavy hair and short beard were just
barely discernable.  She back-pedaled.

"I don't want to go with you.  Get away, or I'll scream!"

Her pursuer ignored her and lunged for her arm again, this time managing to
get a grip on her wrist.

It was the first art she had ever learned in her very first self defense
class, years ago.  She broke his grip expertly and backed away, her body
coming automatically into a defensive stance.

By now, others on the sidewalk had noticed what was going on.  Some stood
watching, jaws hanging open.  Several people ran.  Lois's assailant pulled
out a knife.  "Lady, don't make me cut you.  Get in the car."

"In your dreams!"  She turned and ran back toward the motel.

But heeled shoes are not designed for running.  He caught up with her within
a few steps and grabbed her by the arm, swinging her around.  For an instant
her face was inches from his, and she could smell his breath.

Lois brought the heel of her shoe down on his instep as hard as she could,
and at the same time slammed her free hand into his nose with all her
desperate strength behind it.  He dropped to the sidewalk with a high
shriek.  Lois ran.

Ambrose Johnson emerged from the motel office like a charging bull, a tire
iron in one hand.  Behind her, Lois heard the screech of tires as the car
peeled away from the curb.  She stopped short and turned.

The green car was vanishing down the street.  Her assailant was gone, too,
so he must have somehow gotten back into the vehicle before it took off.  If
she'd seen Johnson coming after *her* like that, she'd have taken off, too,
she thought irrelevantly, and stifled the sudden, hysterical urge to laugh.

Johnson turned, lowering his weapon.  "You okay, Ms. Lane?"

She nodded, trying to steady her breathing.  He took her arm.

"Come on back inside.  I'll call the police."

*     *     *     *     *

The little room at the police station was quiet, although she could hear
muffled voices from outside.  Lois turned another page on the book of mug
shots.  She had been at this for over an hour, and so far there had been no
results.  She rubbed the back of her neck and wished for a cup of coffee.

Ambrose was with a police sketch artist somewhere in the building, trying to
recreate his memory of the bearded man.  Somewhere else the police had the
napkin, trying to identify the handwriting and looking for fingerprints.
She had no idea how it was progressing.  She turned another page and sighed.
This was hopeless.  The Metropolis Police Department needed to get these
things computerized.

Someone knocked on the door and she looked up as Clark entered.  He crossed
the room to her in three steps and put his arms around her.  "Jimmy told me
you were here.  I just heard what happened."

"Clark, I'm all right."

"Yeah, I know."  He released her, and dropped a kiss on top of her head.  "I
talked to Henderson, and Mr. Johnson.  They told me the whole story."  He
notably did not bring up the fact that she had gone off to investigate on
her own and Lois felt a sudden twinge of guilt.

"Clark, I'm sorry.  I didn't think I could get into any trouble just going
to that motel.  Not right out in the open like that."

"I know.  Whoever this guy is, he's pretty sure of himself."  He grinned
against her hair. "Ambrose Johnson said he saw you take out the accomplice,
whoever he is, by the way.  He was impressed."

"I was pretty impressed by him.  He scared them off."  Lois stretched
uncomfortably.  "I'll be glad when the sore muscles go away...hey!  That's
him!"

"Who?"

She indicated a photograph in the top left hand corner.  "Paul Eastwin.
That was the guy who tried to grab me."

Clark straightened up.  "If you're sure, I'll tell Henderson."

"I'm sure, believe me."

A few moments later an officer was looking at the photo.  "You're certain,
Ms. Lane?"

"Yes, I am.  I got a close-up look at him.  Too close."

"Okay."  The man seemed pleased.  "We'll put out an A.P.B. on him.  If we
can pin this on him it'll get him out of our hair for awhile, too."

"What do you mean?" Clark asked.

"Eastwin's a small-time mugger, hit man and occasional muscle-for-hire," the
officer told them.  "Everyone knows what he does, but so far we haven't been
able to get him for anything major.  He's had his sentences plea-bargained
down to misdemeanors more times than you can count, but this time it's
attempted kidnapping with a weapon.  If we can get the charges to stick we
might put him away for several years, at least.  Henderson's going to be
happy.  The guy's been a thorn in our sides for years."

"Sounds like a real charmer," Clark said.

"Yeah.  I arrested him for beating up his girlfriend a couple of months ago,
so I sort of know him personally.  He'd blacked both her eyes and knocked
out her front teeth, but the judge let him off with a warning because he was
drunk at the time.  Ordered him to get counseling."  The man stood up and
turned toward the door.  "Want to lay any bets on whether he did?"

"I wouldn't bet the farm on it," Clark said, as the door closed behind him.
"And I suspect that if they do find him, he won't be able to tell them any
more about his employer than the first guy did."

"Probably not," Lois said.  "It seems to be the way he operates."

"Maybe Ambrose's sketch will help," Clark said.  "Henderson said he'll let
us know when it's done."  He walked up behind her and began to rub her
shoulders again.  "Still sore?"

"Some.  Clark, I'm sorry.  I should have waited for you."

He squeezed her shoulders gently.  "No, you were right.  I can't run your
life for you.  There are times you're going to need to do things on your
own.  You couldn't know they'd try something right out on the street like
that.  I should have gotten back sooner, anyway."

"You were helping with that train wreck!"

"Yeah, but I'd have been back earlier if I hadn't made a couple of side
trips."  He sat down in the chair next to hers.  "Remember I said I wanted
to check out some things after Dr. Klein called this morning?"

"Yes."

"I talked to some people I know who used to work for LexLabs in R and D.
Something about what Dr. Klein said this morning seemed familiar.  There was
some work on a weapon for the military that does what he described.  Of
course, they wouldn't go into specifics, even for Superman, but it seems
that when LexLabs was broken up, one of the prototypes was missing."

Lois was silent for a moment.  "LexCorps again.  First 'Project
Doppelganger' and now this."

"Yeah, I know."  Clark took her hand.  "We're going to work this out, honey.
Trust me."

"I do, Clark.  At least we know more than we did a couple of days ago.  What
was the other thing?"

"Huh?"

"The other thing that held you up?"

"Oh, that.  A burglar alarm.  Some vandals broke into one of the storerooms
at the Museum of Crime and destroyed some of the stuff.  Probably kids."
He glanced at the door.  "Here comes Henderson.  He's got the sketch."

The sketch was necessarily inconclusive.  It showed a man with an angular
face, most of his features obscured by a mustache and beard, and wearing
sunglasses.  Longish hair waved around his face.  Lois frowned at the
portrait and nodded.  "I think this is him, all right," she said,
ungrammatically.

"Do you recognize him?" Henderson asked.

"You mean, am I sure this is the man that tried to run me off the road?
It's similar.  I didn't get a close look, remember."

"True.  Okay, we'll use this for now, until we get something better, and
we'll let you know if we make any progress on the handwriting samples.
Thanks, Johnson.  You've been a big help."

Ambrose Johnson nodded.  "Any time, Inspector Henderson."

Clark stepped forward and held out his hand.  "Thanks for helping my wife,
Mr. Johnson," he said.

Johnson's enormous hand nearly swallowed Clark's.  "It was a pleasure, Mr.
Kent."

*     *     *     *     *

"Lyndon P. Lippincott," Perry said, looking at the scanner's reproduction of
the signature in The Bayside Inn's guest book.  "Sounds like a book
publisher."

"Ten to one it's a phony," Jimmy said.  "I'm no expert, but the handwriting
looks to me like the handwriting on the napkin."  He slid the blown-up photo
across the table.  Clark leaned over it, comparing.  With a glance at his
boss he lifted his glasses slightly.

"I'm nearsighted," he said, by way of explanation, and concentrated on the
handwriting.

The "L" in "Lane" and the "L" in "Lippincott" and in "Lyndon" were almost
identical.  He saw that immediately.  The letter "n" was the same, too, and
the way the writer made his penstrokes...it was the same man, all right, as
Henderson's experts would undoubtedly determine before long.  The chances
were strong that Lippincott was their man.  He pushed his glasses back into
place.  "It looks the same to me, too," he said.

"Well," Perry said, "assuming it *is* the same person, what now?"

"I'm not sure, Chief," Clark admitted.  "The physical description could fit
a lot of people, and you know police sketches.  Sometimes they're close, but
more often there isn't a whole lot of resemblance.  Lippincott, or whoever,
was at The Bayside Inn until yesterday morning, according to Johnson, so
he's moved his base of operations.  I hate to say it, but the next move may
be up to him.  I hate reacting instead of acting, but..."

"How about that tap on your phone?" Jimmy asked.  "Did Henderson have any
luck with it?"

"They traced it to the pay phone at the 45th Street subway station," Clark
said.  "Not much luck there."

"How about fingerprints?"  Perry asked.  "Any luck?"

"They found one clear print on the napkin," Lois said.  "So far no
identification, though.  It feels like we're at a dead end."

One of the copy boys knocked on the conference room door, and stuck his head
through.  "Mr. Kent, you've got a phone call.  Line three."

"Oh, thanks, Terry.  I'll take it here."  Clark reached for the phone.
"Clark Kent."

"Mr. Kent?"  The voice at the other end sounded nervous.  "I need to speak
to you.  I have some information that I think you'll want to know.  It's
very important that we meet."

"What kind of information?" Clark asked.

"I can't talk about it over the phone.  Let's say it has to do with LexCorp,
and a project of theirs which involved your wife.  There's more to it than
what happened last year.  Something much more dangerous."

"All right.  Where do you want to meet?"  Clark's voice tried to crack, and
he controlled it by sheer force of will.

"Do you know the vacant lot over on Laurel Street--across from Century 22
Real Estate?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there at nine o'clock tonight.  Come alone.  If you aren't there,
I'll wait five minutes.  No longer."

"I'll be there."

The click of the receiver being hung up answered him.

*     *     *     *     *

A heavy drizzle was falling as Clark approached the vacant lot on Laurel
Street a few minutes before nine that evening.  The pavement was damp, and
the sharp glow of the street lights was softened at the edges by the heavy
mist.  Cars swished by, occasionally spattering the incautious passerby with
water.  The air was unseasonably cool.  In another week it would be
officially fall, and the weather gods had apparently decided to give the
residents of Metropolis a little preview of what was to come.

He could see at once why the anonymous caller had chosen this location.  The
lot was in shadow. Enclosed on two sides by buildings and in the rear by a
high, stone wall, it would be difficult for anyone to approach without
warning.  Clark scanned the lot with his enhanced vision, and spotted the
man at once.

He was dressed in dark clothing, standing close to the wall, invisible to
anyone on the sidewalk except Superman.  Clark walked quietly into the
shadows and stood still, waiting.  Cars swished by on the street behind him.

"Mr. Kent."  The voice was very soft.

"Yes," he said.

"My name is Adrian Bender."

Clark moved slowly forward until he stood next to the wall, a few feet away
from the man.  "You had some information for me, Mr. Bender?"

"Yes."  The lawyer nodded jerkily, and Clark saw him reach into one pocket.
"I got this letter in early June," he said.  "It wasn't signed, and I still
have no idea who sent it.  It mentioned 'Project Doppelganger'.  I imagine
you know what that was."

"I think so," Clark said, trying to keep his voice neutral.  "The clone
project."

"The clone project," Bender affirmed.  "The letter advised me to obtain the
file from LexLabs and give it to you."

"Why me?"

"You're the only person who can reliably contact Superman," the lawyer said,
a little impatiently.  "I should have done it, then."

"Why didn't you?"

Bender shrugged again, looking at the ground.  "I read the file, Mr. Kent.
Most of it was technical information.  Charts, and graphs
procedures...scientific shorthand.  I didn't understand a lot of it.  But
there was enough I did understand to tell me that the project wasn't over
when the clones were destroyed last year.  There was something else...a
backup plan in case Luthor failed; what you might call a dead man switch."
He raised his head to meet Clark's eyes in the dimness, and the pain in his
face was almost physical.  "Luthor killed my brother, Mr. Kent.  Oh, I know
he probably didn't fire that dart, himself, but it was his order.  I wanted
to be the one to ruin his last plan.  I wanted to even the score.  I was
foolish to think I could, but I did.  Only, now it's too late.  The plan has
gone into action, the file is gone, and I know too much.  My only chance is
for you to tell Superman.  He may still be able to stop it."

"What's the backup plan?" Clark asked.

"It took me awhile to find the place ," Bender said.  "They'd hidden
everything very carefully, but I had access to all of LexCorp's records, and
I finally tracked it down.  I'm going to have to show y...Ohmigod!."

A burst of gunfire interrupted his words.  Bullets sprayed across the lot,
bouncing from Clark's back.  He tackled Bender, throwing him flat in the
mud.  More bullets struck him as he shielded the lawyer with his own body,
and then there was the sound of an engine, and an automobile racing away
from the scene at reckless speed.  Clark rose to his knees.  "Bender?  Are
you all right?"

There was no answer.  The man lay face down in the mud, unmoving.  Clark
lowered his glasses and scanned Bender's body with x-ray vision.  In spite
of his quick action, the lawyer had been struck by two of the bullets.  An
instant later, Superman was airborne and headed for the nearest hospital as
fast as the safety of his human passenger permitted.

*     *     *     *     *

"All I could find was shell casings, Inspector," Superman said.  He stood in
Henderson's office, his uniform a bright splash of primary colors against
the sober hues of the room.  Somehow, he didn't look at all out of place.
"Whatever traces there might have been were washed away by the rain."

"How's Bender doing?" Henderson asked.

"He's in critical condition," Superman said.  "They don't know if he'll make
it or not."

"Well, somebody was trying to kill either him or Kent," Henderson said.
"Right now, considering what happened to their Jeep, I'm not sure which."

"Neither am I," Superman admitted.  "Clark was lucky."

"I'd like to have a hair or two off that rabbit's foot he carries."
Henderson smiled wryly and shook his head. "I thought we were through with
Luthor and LexCorp after the Luckabee fiasco.  LexCorp's got more heads than
a hydra."

Superman nodded.  "It does seem to.  I--" He broke off suddenly.  Then, with
a gust of air that blew papers around the room, he was gone.  Henderson
stared after him in surprise.  He'd rarely seen Superman look that startled.
Or that scared.

*     *     *     *     *

The television muttered in the background, but after an attempt to keep her
attention on the LNN newscast, Lois had given up.  The cup of tea she had
made was growing cold on the coffee table, and the magazine she attempted to
read after she lost interest in the news lay face down on the floor.  She
glanced at the clock for the third time in as many minutes.

Come on, Lois! she chided herself.  It's not as if he hasn't had to stay out
all night before.

Being married to Superman could be worse than being married to a
doctor--calls at all hours, and no one to take them for you when you got
tired.  It went with the territory.  But right now it would be nice to have
some company.  Even CJ would have been better than sitting here alone.  She
missed him, but he was probably having a ball being the center of his doting
grandparents' attention in Smallville.  Besides, carrying around a heavy
baby wasn't her favorite activity right now, and if he were here she would
hardly have been willing to put him down.  The last few days had been
harrowing, and she still wasn't really over the effects of their tail-end
collision.  She felt tired and a little sore.  Her neck was stiff and
painful, and would probably remain so for several days to come.  And nine
o'clock had come and gone two hours ago, and Clark had not returned.

She would have gone with him, but their anonymous caller had specified that
he was to come alone.  Wise in the ways of informants, she had known that
the man almost certainly would have bolted if she'd appeared with Clark.
But something had happened, that was certain.

The phone rang for the fourth time in an hour.  One call had been from her
mother.  Of the others, the caller had twice declined to identify himself to
the answering machine and Lois simply did not feel up to any more calls from
*him*.  Now she listened to the machine give its spiel, and then to the
ensuing silence.  Him again.  Once more the machine hung up.

"Enough," she said, suddenly, aloud.  "You call all you want.  I'm not going
to play anymore."  With a decisive gesture she walked to the phone and
switched off the ringer then picked up her cup of tea.  Moving quickly, she
went into the kitchen and threw the stone-cold liquid down the sink.
"That's it.  I'm going to bed!"

She heard the click as the answering machine came on again, and tried not to
listen to the silence that followed.  She almost jumped out of her skin at
the voice that emerged.

"Lois..."  It was a breathy whisper.  "He's dead.  He won't be back.  I want
you."

She put her hands over her ears.  The voice couldn't be telling the truth.
Clark was very much alive.

The smash of the window glass made her spin around.  Something thumped to
the rug, and vapor began to spew forth.  Suddenly her eyes were tearing, her
nose felt as if it was burning.  Instinctively, she held her breath.  Tear
gas!  He was trying to force her outside!

Lois ran for the stairs.  If she set foot outside he would be waiting; she
knew that without a doubt.  Below her, the cloud of vapor swelled.  There
was another smash; a second canister joined the first, but Lois didn't look
back.  She fled blindly up the stairs, stumbling a little on the steps, and
flung herself into her bedroom.  With one hand, she slammed the door, and
twisted the key in the lock.

She felt her way into the bathroom, eyes so full of tears that she could
barely see, and turned on the tap.  Cold water rushed out of the faucet.
She washed her hands under the stream, then splashed water into her eyes,
nose and mouth.

When the burning subsided, she shut off the tap and returned to the bedroom.
A small tendril of white was creeping under the door.  With a gasp, she ran
back into the bathroom and emerged a few seconds later with both bath
towels.  She crammed them hastily into the narrow opening to block the
stinging gas and drew a deep breath.

*He* was out there.  What kinds of lengths was he willing to go to, to get
his hands on her?  "Obsession" was putting it mildly!  He claimed Clark was
dead, but he'd tried to kill Clark before with the bomb in the Jeep.  It
must have enraged and puzzled him that Clark had survived.  He had to have
tried something tonight, and must believe that it had succeeded, or maybe he
was just trying to frighten her.  Well, she had to give him that.  He'd
succeeded in frightening her, all right, but that didn't make her helpless.

She picked up the phone, and was not surprised to find the line dead.  Her
cellular phone was downstairs in her purse; there hadn't been the time to
grab it.  But there was one other form of communication that she could
use--if he was within range.  She somehow couldn't see Clark leaving
Metropolis tonight except for the direst of emergencies.  "Help!  Superman!"

For five, eternal seconds, she thought he wasn't coming.  Then the bedroom
window shot open, and he was standing before her.  She saw him look her over
in one, quick glance.

"Stay here!" he commanded and was out the window on the word.  Lois sank
slowly down on the bed and closed her eyes.

*     *     *     *     *


"He must have made tracks as soon as he saw me," Clark said.  He stood in
the door to their bathroom, stripping off the Superman suit.  "By the time
I'd cleared the gas out of the house, he was gone."  He wadded the suit into
a ball.  "I'll take care of this.  It's soaked in tear gas.  You don't want
to touch it."

"I'll take your word for it."  Lois still felt shaken, but the therapy of
watching her husband disrobe in front of her was helping.  Clark noticed
and smiled.

"Just don't try to touch me until I get washed.  That wouldn't be romantic
at all," he said, and vanished into the bathroom.  Lois heard the shower
come on.  Less than a minute later he re-emerged, his hair damp and combed
back from his face, a towel around his waist.  Lois could see the wet
Superman suit hanging from the towel rack.  He walked straight over to her
and put his arms around her.

For a long moment they stayed that way, silently holding each other.  Then
Clark spoke.

"I don't think I've been so scared in quite a while as I was when I heard
you yell.  I just left Henderson standing there."  He let her go and looked
into her face.  "You're all right, aren't you?"

"I'm all right.  A little shaky.  He was trying to force me outside, I
think."

"Yeah."  He swiped at a trickle of water that was making its way down his
collarbone.  "You did exactly the right thing, again.  This guy may think
he's in love with you, or something, but he doesn't know you very well at
all, does he?"

"He called four times, Clark.  The last time he told me you were dead."  She
rested her head on his bare chest for a long moment.  "I didn't believe it,
though.  I figured he had to have tried something that would have killed an
ordinary man, but..."

"Then I must have been the target, not Bender," he said, thoughtfully.

"Bender!"

"Yeah.  The guy I went to meet.  It was Adrian Bender."

"So something did happen."

"Yeah."  He sat down beside her on the bed.  "We were shot at and Bender was
hit.  He's in the hospital now, in critical condition.  Because of me.  Our
stalker must have followed me to the meeting."

"Clark, don't be ridiculous!"  Lois drew back and looked him directly in the
eyes.  "*You* didn't shoot him!  In fact, I'll bet you were the one that got
him to the hospital, weren't you?"

"Well, yes."

"Then you can't blame yourself.  Tell me what happened."

"Okay."  He sniffed her hair. "I will while you shower.  I can still smell
the chemicals in your hair.  You don't want to accidentally get it in your
eyes."

She peeled the clothing off carefully and Clark took it.  "I'll rinse it for
you."  He stood back to let her past him and then began to fill the sink.
While she washed off the chemical residue, he described what had happened,
and what Bender had said.

"A dead man switch," Lois said thoughtfully, as she stepped from the shower.
Clark handed her a towel, giving her an appreciative look as he did so.
"What do you suppose that means?"

"I don't know.  I've got the letter, though.  Here, want me to dry your
back?"

"Very funny," Lois said.

He feigned shock.  "Why, you don't think I'd have an ulterior motive, do
you?"

"If you don't, I'm going to be insulted," she told him.  Clark laughed and
reached for her.

*     *     *     *     *

Sometime later Lois lay in bed in the darkened room with her head on his
shoulder.  His arm was around her, and she was sure that she wasn't
imagining the fact that he held her more tightly than usual.  Somehow, Clark
being in protective mode didn't bother her the way it might have some years
ago because she knew it wasn't prompted by anything more than his love for
her, and his wish to keep her safe from whoever was threatening her.  It
had been a traumatic evening for both of them and she needed to be close to
him.

She could tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep.  Too much had
happened this evening for either of them to be able to relax completely.
"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"I know this is reaching, but do you suppose that this thing could be
related to Lex's 'backup plan'?"

His arm tightened for an instant.  "To tell you the truth, I was wondering
about that, too.  Something's going on with it, or Bender's office wouldn't
have been burned or his car blown up.  Bender said it was in action, and
Henderson told me unofficially that they thought the same type of explosive
used on Bender's car might have been used on the Jeep.  In all the confusion
it kind of slipped my mind."

"Maybe we should start looking at it from that angle.  This guy's obsession
with me--Lex was obsessed with me, Clark."

"I know.  Only, Lex knew that bullets couldn't hurt me.  He came back from
the dead once, but this time I not only saw him die, I pulled his body out
of that collapsed tunnel, made sure it was positively identified, and was
there when he was cremated.  There's no way anyone is going to regenerate
him this time."

Lois snuggled more tightly against him and felt his free hand stroke her
hair, very gently.  "Besides," Clark continued, a smile in his voice,
"whoever this is, they can't know the real you very well.  If he thinks he
can take Lois Lane by force after killing her husband, he's living in a
dream world.  He'd have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of his life
and have eyes in the back of his head to boot."

Lois giggled.  "You know how to flatter a girl, don't you?"

"Hey, I'm only proving how well *I* know you."  He pushed himself up on one
elbow to kiss her.  She responded with enthusiasm.  Clark pulled his head
back about an inch.  "You know, we might not get a whole lot of sleep
tonight at this rate."

She wrapped her free arm around his neck and pulled him back down.  "Who
cares?"

*    *     *     *     *

The postmark on the envelope was June 10th, and there was no return address.

"It's a Metropolis postmark," Lois said.  "It was mailed right here in the
city."  She took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully while examining the
letter.

It was handwritten on ordinary paper, and the message was short:

"Mr. Bender;

LexLabs was involved in a project, titled 'Doppelganger' under the direction
of a Dr. Isaac Mamba, which potentially endangers the life of every human on
the planet.  I urge you to obtain the file immediately and take it to Mr.
Clark Kent at The Daily Planet, with instructions to give it to Superman.
He will know what to do with it.  If you fail to do this it will very
probably result in unprecedented disaster for humanity. The file is among
the archives of the Gemini Team, employed by LexLabs between the years of
1993 and 1996."

The letter was unsigned, of course.  Lois read it over twice before she
looked up.  "Well, that's pretty straightforward."

"Yeah.  There's some sort of disaster in the making that Superman might be
able to prevent, and we have no idea what it is."  Clark examined the letter
from all sides, and the envelope in which it had been sent.  "Hmm.  There's
a number scribbled on the back of the envelope.  It's not the same
handwriting as on the letter."

"Maybe it's Bender's," Lois suggested.

"Maybe."  Clark squinted at the letter again, then removed his glasses and
examined it minutely.  "You know, there's something familiar about this
handwrit--" He broke off abruptly.  "Oh my God."

"What?"

"Just a minute.  Maybe I'm wrong."  He was out of the kitchen in a flash,
and Lois heard him opening the bookcase door to the room that concealed his
uniforms.  A moment later he was back, a familiar piece of paper in his
hands.  "This is the note that we found with CJ.  Give me a minute."

Lois watched tensely as he compared the writing in the two letters.  When he
looked up, his face was pale.  "It's the same handwriting.  Whoever sent
this wrote both of these letters."

"The same person?  Then CJ is somehow tied to this backup plan of Lex's?"
Lois's eyes met Clark's, her expression stricken.

"It looks like it," Clark said.

"Oh, Clark!  'Project Doppelganger' was the clone project!  Does that mean
that CJ is some sort of clone?"

"Maybe."  Clark put his hand over hers.  "But not necessarily.  And even if
he is, that doesn't change anything."  He clenched his jaw tightly.
"There's one way to find out."

"Dr. Klein," Lois said.

"Yeah, Dr. Klein," Clark said.  "He could find out one way or another.  At
least we'd know, and he wouldn't give anything away."

"Clark, CJ looks so much like you.  Could he be a clone of you?"

Clark shrugged.  "I guess it's possible, but I don't see how.  I've been
careful ever since the Superman clone appeared.  He retrieved the lock of
hair they used to clone me, and I destroyed it."

Lois nodded.  "Lex was probably behind that, too, you know.  His people were
the only ones who ever produced clones that we know of, and he would have
loved to have had a Superman under his control."

"Yeah.  It makes sense."  Clark squeezed her hand.  "Shall we ask Dr. Klein
to do the test?"

Lois bit her lip and then nodded again.  "Yes.  That way we'll be sure."

"Okay."  He reached over and pulled her into his arms.  "Lois, CJ has been
with us for over three months, and he's shown no sign of accelerated growth.
I'm going to ask Dr. Klein, as Superman, to do the test, and tell him why.
Personally, I doubt there's anything to worry about, but they're after CJ
for some reason.  We need to eliminate this possibility."

"Do you suppose he's at S.T.A.R. Labs?  It's Saturday."

"I'll call him.  I want to explain the situation in person, anyway."

Incredibly, the scientist was not at his lab.  Clark called his home.  After
four rings, Dr. Klein answered.

"Hello?"  He muffled a sneeze.

"Dr. Klein?  It's Superman.  You sound like you aren't feeling well."

"Superman?"  Dr. Klein's voice was clearly surprised.  "Yes, I have a cold.
Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, there is.  I'd like to come by to see you, if that's all right.  I
don't want to discuss this over the phone.  It's private."

"Yes, certainly.  Come right over."

"Thank you, Doctor Klein.  Would it be all right if I brought someone along?
We need to explain something."

Dr. Klein sneezed again.  "As long as he doesn't mind risking a cold."

"We'll be right there.  Thanks."  He hung up.


*     *     *     *     *

Dr. Klein frowned as Superman finished speaking.  "So, you're saying that
somehow CJ may be connected to this 'Project Doppelganger' and you want me
to run a check on him for frog DNA."

Superman nodded.  "That's it in a nutshell, Dr. Klein.  It's one possibility
we'd like to eliminate, if possible."

"All right."  Bernard Klein grinned crookedly at the super-hero, then
muffled a sneeze in his handkerchief.  "You know, my life has gotten a lot
more exciting since I became your doctor, Superman.  Bring CJ here and I'll
get a sample.  I have the equipment available to take it and preserve it
until I can transport it to the Lab.  That's probably the best, anyway; I
assume you want to keep this confidential, no matter what the results."

"Yes," Clark told him.  "Clark and Lois don't want any unpleasant rumors
circulating about CJ, and I don't blame them."

"I understand that.  Don't worry, Lois, I'll be very careful."

"Thanks, Dr. Klein," Lois said.

"I'll be back shortly with CJ," Clark said.  "I'd like Lois to stay here,
Dr. Klein.  There's been several attempts to kidnap her, and I'm sort of her
unofficial bodyguard when Clark can't be there."

Dr. Klein nodded.  "Sure.  Just keep your distance, Lois.  This cold is a
killer."

Lois smiled at him.  "I'm not worried.  If it's the one making the rounds at
the Planet, I had it three weeks ago."

*     *     *     *     *

Superman was back within fifteen minutes with the baby.  CJ gurgled happily,
reaching for his nose, and Clark couldn't help smiling at his small son.  If
it turned out that CJ was a clone it wouldn't make a difference to him, he
knew, and he doubted it would make a difference to Lois.  CJ was still the
child he had begun to think that he and Lois would never be allowed to have,
either by genetics or by the authorities.  His appearance had been a miracle
and would remain so in Clark's eyes.  And he would fight to keep him.

Dr. Klein quickly and neatly took a sample of cells from the inside of the
baby's cheek.  "There you go, little fellow.  That ought to do it,
Superman.  It should only take a few days at the most, because I won't be
running  a complete DNA analysis.  I'll call Lois when I have the answers."

"Thanks, Dr. Klein."  Superman grasped his hand.  "I owe you a favor for
this."

Dr. Klein shook his head.  "You don't owe me anything.  If I can't do
something for a friend  once in awhile..."  He broke off, looking
embarrassed.  "I wouldn't worry too much about this, Lois.  I personally
doubt I'll find any frog DNA.  CJ has been growing at a normal rate, and if
there were any he should have shown growth abnormalities a long time ago."

Lois hugged her baby, and then watched as Superman took off with him once
more, headed for Kansas.  Dr. Klein looked after him thoughtfully.
"Superman cares a lot about children, doesn't he, Lois?"

"Yes," Lois said, quietly.  "He does."

Dr. Klein sighed, obviously upset by something.  Lois could guess what it
was.  He had been the one to give Superman the bad news that he could never
have children with an earthwoman and, knowing Dr. Klein, it was probably
bothering him a good deal.

*     *     *     *     *

They went in to work that afternoon.  Being that it was Saturday, they were
pulling a half day today.  Clark took off about three to cover a fire down
by Hobbs Bay, and a few minutes later Lois saw Superman appear in the scenes
being shown on the newsroom monitors.

She had finished her research; the piece on the City Council was ready and
in Perry's hands.  It should make quite a splash on the front page this
evening.  She anticipated a number of very indignant councilmen, and smiled
at the thought.  She had all the evidence, statements, and several
witnesses.  The mayor was going to be ducking for cover every time she saw a
camera, at least for awhile.  She stretched and grimaced, rubbing her sore
neck.  The stiffness was better today, but she still felt tired.  With a
sigh of frustration, she took out Bender's letter for the tenth time that
day to study it fruitlessly for any other clues.

"What's that?"  Jimmy was standing beside her desk, a fresh cup of coffee in
his hands.  "I brought you this.  Two Sweet 'n' Lo's and non-fat creamer,
right?"

"Thanks, Jimmy.  This was the letter Bender gave Clark last night."  She
held it up for his examination.  "It doesn't tell us a lot."

Jimmy nodded.  "I heard what happened.  CK was really lucky.  How's
Bender?"

"Clark called this morning, but they weren't giving out any information.  At
least he's still alive."

"Yeah."  Jimmy took the envelope from her hand and examined it.  "There's a
number on the back.  I wonder what that is?"

"I don't know.  It looks like Bender jotted it down for something..."  She
broke off, striving to remember.  Clark had told her what Bender had said:

"It took me awhile to find the place.  They'd hidden everything very
carefully, but I had access to all of LexCorp's records, and I finally
tracked it down..."

Could it be part of an address?  13427.  But the number was worthless
without a street name.  Lois stared at the useless number in frustration,