The Huntress' Revenge

by Jenni Debbage <jdse08662@blueyonder.co.uk>

Rated PG-13

Submitted May 25, 1998

________________________________

     This story is my second fanfic and although it is not a sequel to 'The
New Birth', it does follow on from that story.  Both these fanfics take
place in the time zone of Season 5/6 and the usual disclaimers apply to the
characters and gadgets I have borrowed for this tale.
     In this story some old adversaries (not the usual ones) emerge and,
this time, it seems they have the upper hand.
     Your comments are welcome, but please don't be too blunt, as *I* am
not invulnerable.
Jenni Debbage
jdse08662@blueyonder.co.uk

                                                           **********

                                                THE  HUNTRESS' REVENGE


     Lois Lane sat in the Daily Planet newsroom in front of her terminal,
absentmindedly putting the finishing touches to her less than enthralling
story.  If she was being truthful, her mind wasn't really on the job.  She
glanced up as her husband re-entered the office and passed by her desk,
sending her a sad quizzical look in the process, a look she chose to
ignore, which only made her feel guilty on top of all her other negative
feelings.  Perhaps it was time to start being honest with herself.
     She was pregnant again, and the prospect terrified her.  It wasn't
that she didn't want more children.  It was just too soon.  And it wasn't
supposed to be possible.  Both Kryptonian and Earth scientists had agreed
that Joel was a phenomenon, and yet she could no longer go on denying what
her body and her husband were trying to tell her.  Also, blaming Clark for
the situation was wholly unfair.  It took two to make a baby and she had to
admit that she'd participated quite freely in that act.  She even knew when
'it' had happened, the day of Perry's remarriage to Alice.  All the old
newsman's friends, having witnessed how lost and miserable he had been when
he was alone, had shared in that joyous occasion when the couple had put
their differences behind them and chosen to rededicate their lives to each
other.  On that special day the champagne had flowed freely and the bride
and groom's happiness had been infectious.  When Clark had finally taken
his wife home they had fallen into bed and made love with such passion,
Lois blushed to remember it.  That night they had scarcely slept and next
day Clark remarked laughingly that it was fortunate there had been no major
disasters as he had hardly been in a condition to attend a rescue.  Lois
enjoined wickedly that as prisoners were now allowed conjugal breaks,
Superman was entitled to the same courtesy, but she had been happy back
then.  A new mother with a beautiful baby, an adoring husband and a job she
loved and was just settling back into after maternity leave.  The future
had seemed so bright, then her 'period' had stopped.  This was a rare
occurrence, in fact it had only happened to her once before and then she
had been pregnant with Joel.  Her first reaction had been one of disbelief.
 Joel was only a few months old and he deserved the full attention of his
mother, something she would find increasingly difficult to give, due to the
debilitating symptoms of pregnancy.  So, in typical Lois Lane fashion, she
had decided that if she didn't wish for this to be, then it just wasn't.
      When Clark, noticing the change in his wife's condition, had tried to
broach the subject, she had rebuffed him completely and had continued, in
these ensuing weeks, to keep him at arm's length.  There had been moments
when the ice maiden had melted, allowing them to share a few intimate
interludes and times too when she had collapsed sobbing into his arms, but
on the whole their relationship had disintegrated into, at best, icy
indifference and at worst, open hostility.
     According to Clark's estimation Lois must now be in her twelfth week,
yet the more he tried to persuade her to face the situation, the more
distant she became.  In desperation he turned, as always, to his mother,
only to find that Martha had already deduced the problem and had attempted
to talk to her daughter-in-law.  However, for the first time Lois had
repulsed her elder friend's wise council.  Clark knew she was in a state of
denial because she had, as in the days of their early partnership, retired
behind her castle walls and pulled up the drawbridge.  She ignored all his
approaches of peace talks, so there was little he could do but sit out the
siege and be ready to support her whenever she surrendered to the truth.
     Clark's only consolation was that, with the sole exception of his son,
every other one of Lois' acquaintances was being treated with the same
disdain and at times anger.  For instance, this lunchtime when Jimmy Olsen
had remarked that Lois' well known love of chocolate was at last beginning
to make itself evident, especially around her waist, that young man had
been very lucky to escape with his life.  Since then, Lois had been silent
and withdrawn.  She didn't acknowledge Clark's goodbye when he had left to
meet with a source, who had called earlier to inform him that 'something
very suspicious' was going down at the Woman's State Penitentiary, or yet
when he returned.
     Unknown to Clark, however, the time for Lois to face reality had
arrived.  Reviewing Jimmy's innocuous comment about her weight gain, she at
last admitted that if others were starting to notice her condition, then
she had best do the same.  That did not necessarily mean that she was happy
with the situation, but the only alternative was definitely unacceptable.
First step first though, so after lunch she had called in at the drugstore
across the street to purchase a pregnancy test kit.  She might as well have
her suspicions confirmed and now was as good a time as any.  Shutting down
her computer, she fished her purse from her desk drawer, glanced longingly
at her husband for a fleeting moment, then without saying a word she left
the office.
     Watching her go, Clark got that horrid empty feeling inside, one he
was experiencing a lot recently.  If only she would talk to him, but the
only person to be granted the comfort of Lois' loving self at present was
Joel.  Lois poured out all of her strictly pent-up emotions on her baby
and, while Clark could not wholly suppress a little envy, he was
exceedingly glad for his son.  He was also, and he had to admit, not
totally disappointed about the new baby.  This pregnancy meant that the
researchers were wrong and that Joel would not be an only child, but if it
also meant Lois' deep unhappiness then there had to be an alternative.
     The ringing phone interrupted Clark's unpleasant thought.  He
stretched to pick up the receiver.
     "Clark Kent speaking," he said, more abruptly than his usual greeting.
 There was no reply.  "Hello.  You have reached Clark Kent at the Daily
Planet.  How may I help you?"  He spoke using a politeness he was far from
feeling.  Still, there was silence.  "Hello!!  Who would you like to speak
with?"
      The silence lasted a few more moments, then the caller began to
laugh, not an enjoyable laughter and Clark felt his skin crawl at the weird
sound.  He was just about to signal Jimmy to listen in, when the person on
the other end of the line cut the connection.  The strange phone call upset
him for a short time but he had other, more pressing problems to involve
him and the source of those problems had just gone home.  Quickly finishing
the re-writes on his current article, he wired them through to Perry.
During his interview with a young woman called Mary, who claimed to be a
state employee, the information he had received had tweaked his reporter's
instincts and started that certain tingle.  Maybe Lois might also be
interested and want to help him investigate, he wishfully thought.  Still,
tomorrow morning would be soon enough to check out the allegations.  At
present he had his private life to sort out and, after clearing away his
workload, he followed his wife home.

                                                              **********

     In order to give Lois some time alone, he decided to walk
home.........slowly.  Perhaps he too needed time to compose himself.
Somehow he knew that there were stormy days ahead.  He unlocked the front
door and let himself into the house.  It wasn't a great surprise to find
Lois frantically pacing back and forth across the living room floor.  She
whirled to face him, and, snatching a small stick-like object from the
table, waved it before his face.
     "It turned BLUE," she gasped in a state of high tension.  "BLUE!!"
She reiterated more loudly, in case he hadn't caught her meaning.
      "I know, Lois," he tried his most calming tone, "But you knew it
would too."  Not finding the words to answer him that would sufficiently
convey her dismay, she continued pacing.
     "Lois, you must have realised you were pregnant.  You had to recognise
the signs."
     "Pregnant!!  Yes, I'm pregnant........again!!  Joel is barely six
months old and I'm having another baby, which I suppose makes you very
happy."  Her tone of voice indicated that she most definitely did not share
his joy.
     "Well yes," Clark chose his words warily as he didn't want to upset
her any further.  "Us having another baby does make me happy.  I'd thought
that Joel would be our only child and that made me sad.  I know how lonely
being an only child can be.  However, I realise that the timing isn't ideal."
     "Too true!"  she retorted.  "And you're not the one who has to carry
it for nine months and suffer all the physical inconveniences.  You're not
the one who has to give birth.  You can get on with your life and both of
your jobs with very little change.  I'm the one who has to cope with
sleepless nights while you fly off and save the world."
     This last statement was vastly unfair as Clark had readily restricted
his Superman duties in favour of being an attentive father and Joel had
very quickly learned to sleep throughout the night.  Nevertheless, Lois was
way past being rational.
     "How do you expect me to contend with two babies?"
  At that she seemed to run out of steam and her shoulders slumped.  Tears
began to fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks.  He wanted so much to
take her in his arms and kiss away the tears, but the solution wasn't so
simple and he could not be sure that she wouldn't push him away again.  Now
Clark had to go very carefully.
     "The news does please me, Lois, but it's obvious that you are
miserable and it certainly doesn't please me to watch you falling apart
like this."
     She bridled at his last words and made to remonstrate with him but her
inborn sense of justice kept her silent.  She was hardly acting like a
competent adult.
     "So," he spoke hesitantly, unsure of how to voice his next thought,
"if you feel that you really can't cope, I would understand........I
wouldn't like it, of course, but if you felt you couldn't go
ahead............"
     His heart was breaking and he couldn't speak the words.  But Lois had
already understood his unspoken suggestion.  She gazed in disbelief and
horror at the husband she thought she knew so well.
     "What are you suggesting?" she asked incredulously, but Clark could
only stare in confusion, wondering how he could ever have contemplated such
a thing.  It certainly showed the measure of his desperation, but Lois was
not thinking clearly enough for such reflection.
      "I can't believe you could even think of *that*.  I may be unhappy
but I'm not that hopeless. *I* could never do *that*.  How could you?"  She
babbled, clearly distressed.  "You're Superman.  You believe in truth and
justice.  You're supposed to take care of people and you have just
suggested that we..............that we get rid of our baby."  The last
words were spoken in a gasping whisper.
     "No!!!"  Clark shouted.  His tentative plan, relayed back at him by
his distraught wife, disgusted him.  The past weeks must have deranged his
senses.  "If you'd decided on that course, it would have broken my heart,
but forgive me,  I should have realised you could never......."  he felt
that he ought not to repeat the offensive words.  "Lois, we don't talk to
each other anymore and I'm desperate.  You're drifting away from me and I
don't know how to live with that."
     Lois watched him silently, a guarded expression on her face and when
she spoke her voice was flat.
     "The same way I'm getting through this, one day at a time," and after
these words she turned, scooped her car keys from the desk and went to
fetch her son.

                                                           **********

     The days passed into weeks and the situation in the Kents' household
settled into one of frozen politeness.  It destroyed Clark.  He knew he had
never been forgiven for ever considering that Lois would terminate the
pregnancy and in truth he couldn't blame her.  That had been a
misconception of epic proportions and he had no idea how to atone for his
mistake.  The usual flowers and chocolates were, in this case, just pure
trivia and definitely not to be considered.
     Lois seemed to glide through the days in a semi-trancelike state.  She
no longer ignored her condition, even made an appointment with Dr. Peters
and did not demur when Clark insisted on accompanying her.  Dr. Beth Peters
was dismayed at the change in the couple's relationship and she only hoped
that in the months ahead, as Lois became accustomed to her second
pregnancy, the two would be reconciled.  The doctor firmly believed that a
happy mother was a healthy mother.
     Lois and Clark no longer fought.  They barely spoke.  At work they
treated each other with professional courtesy.  At home their one point of
contact was their precious son.  Joel was growing into a happy, healthy and
inquisitive baby.  Martha often remarked that it seemed as if someone had
turned back the clock, so alike was Joel to his father at a similar age.
All Joel's family had been concerned that the terrible trauma he had
undergone, when only a few days old, would affect his personality; however,
either it had been of such short duration or he had been too young for it
to register.  The only trait to manifest itself which might have been
attributed to his abduction was a certain shyness in the company of
strangers.  Both parents were stringently careful not to allow their
problems to affect Joel's well being and, in the time they spent in his
presence, they found common ground, time which secretly each appreciated as
the most contented moments of their now chaotic lives.
      Their friends and family worried about the state of affairs between
the two, but any attempt to interfere was met with icy indignation from
Lois and from Clark a sad acknowledgement that there was nothing any of
them could do to resolve the impasse.  If there was a way out of this mess
then only Lois and he could find it.  At first, he had typically assumed
the blame for the estrangement, but his sense of fair play had come to his
rescue and, although he had made a gargantuan mistake in believing Lois
would not wish to go through with the pregnancy, his wife was not playing
fair.  His hope was very similar to Dr. Peters'; that given time Lois'
sense of justice would emerge and she would come to terms with the fact,
and perhaps even like the idea, that there would be a new little person in
their family.
     Meanwhile Clark combatted his depression by filling his days with work
both as a journalist and as Superman.  He had followed up on his interview
with Mary by checking her credentials and had confirmed that there was a
Ms. M McConnachie working as a clerk in the administration department of
the Women's Prison, but she had strongly insisted that he not contact her
but await her phone call.  Should she have any further information she
would be in touch, but as such a call had never materialised, he assumed
that either her suspicions had been unfounded or she was blessed with an
overactive imagination.  Whatever the reason, his tingle must have been as
out of sync as the rest of his brain, for the story was dead, yet in the
back of his mind there was still a faint echo of alarm bells.  He had
forgotten, in the subsequent mind-blowing argument with Lois, the weird
phone call he had received from the cackling joker.
     After an especially busy number of nights,  when Superman had cleaned
up an oil spill of the coast of Mexico and then proceeded to help fight
gigantic rainforest fires, he returned wearily home, swimming the Pacific
part of the way in an attempt to rid himself of the clinging smell of
charred timber and burnt animal flesh.  He had succeeded in rescuing a
number of terrified creatures, but there were too many who fell prey to the
flames.  The fires were burning out of control across all of the Indonesian
Islands, sending great clouds of smoke and smog spreading along the Pacific
and blanketing the population in a breath stealing envelope of murky fog.
Superman had saved countless farmers and villagers who populated the
forests, but the devastation of the homes and lives of these friendly
native people only added to his state of depression.  Thankfully, after
days of strenuous effort, the firefighters with his help had the blaze
under control and Clark felt he could safely leave the clean-up to the
officials.  He returned home exhausted from his exertions and more than a
little affected by the cloying smog.
     His Superman suit was singed and covered with smoke stains and he
didn't have the energy or the inclination to wash it.  Deciding the laundry
could wait till morning, he stripped off the suit and simply bundled it up,
then fell into bed.  When he awoke next morning, he found he had used up
all his clean costumes and, as the emergencies he had dealt with these last
few nights had been particularly dirty ones, all the suits needed a good
long soak and a rigorous scrubbing.  Under normal circumstances Lois would,
when Clark had been very busy with large-scale disasters, make sure that
the soiled garments were washed.  But these were not normal times and
Superman was as equally in the doghouse as Clark.
     Oh well, it looked like the Man of Steel would have to take an
enforced morning off.  He showered, then dressing quickly in a charcoal
grey suit and one of his remaining dress shirts, went downstairs to prepare
breakfast.  Joel had already been deposited in his baby-chair by Lois who
now, with a quick good morning and a smile to her husband (they were in the
presence of Joel), disappeared upstairs to lock herself in the bathroom.
Focussing his superhearing, Clark discovered that Lois was once again prey
to her daily bout of morning sickness.  He was assaulted by a new wave of
dismay, as her exclusion of him from all things relating to her pregnancy
was further manifest.  To ease his hurt he busied himself making oatmeal,
then fed this to Joel, cooling it with his breath so as not to burn the
baby's tender mouth.  Joel loved his oatmeal, but he liked to wear just as
much as he ate and, being a generous child, he didn't like to leave his dad
out of the fun--with the result that, at the end of the meal, Clark's last
clean shirt showed quite a few deposits of sloppy oats.  Sponging the marks
off his shirt and tie, Clark could only be thankful he hadn't already
donned his jacket.  His son was certainly in need of a major clean-up and
he scooped him from his chair and headed for the bathroom, hoping that Lois
would already have vacated the premises.
      Finally he and Joel were ready for the off.  A detour to the cleaners
was in order and a bag full of dirty shirts was waiting by the foot of the
stairs.  He'd wrapped up a couple of his 'suits' and was going to ask his
mother to launder them.  Not that he liked to impose on her, but under the
circumstances she would understand and be only too willing to help out.
Martha wished she could do more.
     The elder Kents had thought long and hard about their retirement plans
while Lois was carrying Joel.  Their decision had been almost made when,
just a few days after his birth, the baby had been kidnapped.  At that
occurrence their plans immediately coalesced.  They felt that the baby's
future would be more secure, both physically and emotionally, if his
grandparents were there to care for him when his mother returned to her
career.
     Also Jonathan had, over the past year or so, been finding the hard
work of a Kansas farmer more difficult to cope with than in previous times.
 Clark had tried to assist his father when he could, but he had his own
life to lead with two very demanding jobs and now a growing family of his
own.  Jonathan hadn't liked to add to his son's responsibilities with an
increasing workload around the farm.  Even Superman had his limits and
besides, the Kansas farmer was a proud man who didn't appreciate having to
ask for help.
     Now, however, they had a grandchild, a very special child who had to
be protected, like his father before him, from inquisitive eyes, and who
was better qualified for this task than the elder Kents?  Jonathan had a
new goal in life.  In the past there had been times when he had deduced
that his only son had been a lonely young child, confused by his
ever-changing abilities and having no contemporaries to share in his
amazing secrets.  To compensate, Jonathan had tried to spend as much time
as he could with his phenomenal child, but so often the day to day duties
of farm life had got in the way.  Back then there had been no alternative.
The farm had provided them with the material things of life, but as a
grandparent, his responsibilities had changed.  If he was retired, he could
spend all the time in the world with his grandchildren, assuring that they
grew up in an atmosphere of a loving and caring family, commodities, which
in his opinion, were seldom found in the big city.
     Once the plans for their future were finalised, they approached Lois
and Clark.  After all, if the couple should decide they didn't wish to
place Joel into Martha and Jonathan's care, then all their plans would have
to be rethought.  However, their fears proved to be groundless.  Lois had
been overjoyed and vastly relieved that they should volunteer to move to
Metropolis and take charge of Joel.  It removed a weight of worry from the
new mom's shoulders, to know that she could resume her career while leaving
Joel with the best people in the world to care for him.  Only Clark had had
reservations.  He knew how much his father loved Smallville and had once
confessed to a dread of living in a city, but when his parents explained
their thinking in detail he became more enthusiastic.   The older Kents
planned to lease out the farm (in fact, they already had an interested
party) but not the farmhouse or the immediately surrounding land.  The
orchard, with its precious treehouse, and the pond where Clark had swum as
a child would all still be theirs.  Then they would look for a suitable
small home here in the outskirts of Metropolis.  Somewhere that would be
convenient for Joel to be dropped off each day without the use of
superpowers, but not in the heart of the city.
     Clark was surprised his parents could afford all these changes, but it
was explained that the Kents' extremely profitable pension plan had matured
on Jonathan's last birthday.  So too, over the years, Martha, a very
efficient and resourceful housewife, had been saving a little here and
there towards their retirement years.  And, of course, they would receive
an income from the lease of the farmland.  Lois also insisted on paying a
child-minding fee, though that intention had caused a fiery debate until
Clark finally reached a compromise by suggesting that if his parents were
so strongly against accepting any kind of remuneration, then they could use
the money to open a bank account for Joel.  This seemed to satisfy all
parties.
     Nevertheless, Clark was not wholly convinced until his mother took him
aside and explained that his dad had been experiencing dizzy spells and
periods of extreme tiredness.  Eventually she had persuaded Jonathan to
visit the doctor, who had told the aging farmer, in no uncertain terms, to
lose weight and to take things more slowly, not an easy task when running a
farm.  Their move to Metropolis would be the ideal situation for everyone.
Fortunately, within a very short time they had found a pleasant house with
a nice little backyard and garden, situated in a quiet suburb of the city.
The move had been made quickly and by the time Lois was due back at the
Planet, Martha and Jonathan were settled in their new home and ready to
take care of their grandson.
     Life should have been good for all concerned, Clark reflected as he
strapped Joel's carry chair into the Jeep to take him to his parents' home,
but instead it had sunk into his worst nightmare.  Lois ran down the steps
to give the two men in her life a goodbye kiss.  A large one for Joel and a
fleeting one for Clark informing him they would meet later at the office.
When he offered to return to pick her up, she declined, stating her
intention to call for a taxi.  Clark didn't press his offer but simply
shrugged his shoulders, jumped into the car and drove off.
     Watching them drive away Lois felt unexpectedly chagrined.  Lately
she'd noticed that Clark had ceased in his attempts at reconciliation,
seemingly becoming resigned to her apathetic treatment.  Contrarily she
missed his constant attention.  Slowly she turned and climbed the stairs,
speeding up as she heard the phone ringing.  Lois snatched up the handset
just before the answering machine cut in.
     "Good morning," she forced a modicum of cordiality into her voice but
was met with silence.  She had decided it was a wrong number and was about
to hang up when she heard a rasping indrawn breath.  Great, just what she
needed to start her day, a crank phone call.
     "Who's there?"  She spoke sharply, letting her exasperation out.  In
answer she heard strange laughter, very quiet at first, but quickly
increasing in volume until it reached a high-pitched, eerie screech.  Lois
slammed down the phone.  After a few moments, it began ringing again.  This
time she allowed the machine to take over and listened in dread as the same
laughter filled the room.  Snatching the phone line from its socket, she
ran into the kitchen.  While she poured herself her usual coffee with
trembling hands, she attempted to calm her distraught nerves, remonstrating
with herself to stop acting like a foolish, highly strung pregnant woman.

                                                           **********

      Martha watched from her kitchen window as her son drove into the
yard.  Her maternal heart ached at the dejected slump of his wide shoulders
which seemed to be his permanent posture these days, except of course in
the suit, when he automatically assumed his Superman's stance.  The young
couple had started out their lives together with such high hopes.  It was
hard to believe their present-day misery.  Tears sprang to her eyes upon
seeing the dejection in his face as he carried Joel and his baggage up to
the back porch.  However, when he came through the door his mood brightened
in his Mom's presence, so she too forced a smile to her lips and greeted
him with a warm hug.  She inquired, in her most caring manner, after Lois'
health, as she lifted her grandson into her clasp for his customary morning
cuddle and tickle.  This was a game that the little boy loved and he
squealed his delight.  Clark replied to her inquiry with the usual
niceties, talking over his son's happy giggles, then asked her
apologetically whether she would launder his suits.  This question was more
indicative of the current state of affairs at Hyperion Avenue than anything
else he said.  Martha strove for impartiality, and she was sympathetic of
Lois' deep unhappiness, but her son did not deserve this constant
rejection.  Nevertheless, she knew he would never tolerate criticism of his
wife, so she kept her own council and vowed to be there for him whenever he
needed support.  Meanwhile she and Jonathan would make sure that Joel was
happy and content, though to be fair, Lois had never let her state of mind
detract from caring for her son.  Martha carried Joel out to the yard and
both waved bye-bye as Clark left for work.

                                                             **********

     A surprise awaited Clark at the Planet.  As he stepped from the
elevator, he saw Lois sitting at her desk.  Somehow he hadn't expected her
to get in to work until midmorning.  She looked pale and a little shaken
and more surprisingly, she called to him as he passed by on the way to his
desk.  That was something that hadn't happened in weeks.
     "Psstt!!  Clark get over here!!" she hissed at him, not looking very
pleased, but hey, a guy couldn't have everything.  He walked up to her and
leant conspiratorially towards her, as if straining to catch her whispered
words.
     "Clark, the strangest thing happened after you left.  I got this phone
call, only the caller didn't leave a name.  Actually they didn't really say
anything.  They just laughed.......only it wasn't happy laughter.  It was a
horrible sound and it gave me the creeps."  She rattled off her speech in
almost one long breath and he could see she was clearly upset.  His own
alarm system was screaming as his mind went back over the weeks to a
similar call he'd received here at the Planet, just before their disastrous
argument.
     "They called the house?"  He mused almost to himself.
     "You know about this, Clark?" she demanded, anger beginning to infuse
her tone.  "You've had one of these calls and you didn't think to tell me?"
      Oh, no!  For the first time in weeks she had chosen to share
something with him and already he'd messed up.  He strove to repair the
damage.
     "Lois, you and I have hardly been speaking to each other of late.
Besides, I took that phone call here in the office and it was the same day
we had our........... misunderstanding.  To tell the truth, I'd completely
forgotten about the call.  I've had other more important worries on my mind."
     "So you never followed it up?"  Because her instincts alerted her to a
story which obviously involved her husband, she decided that their private
problems could be put aside for the present.  "Did anything else strange
happen back then?" she asked, and Clark shook his head.
     "Apart from us?"  He braved her wrath, but Lois chose to ignore the
barb so he continued to think back over that day.  "I had an interview with
a Ms. Mary McConnachie who said she'd discovered some strange happenings at
the Women's State Prison, but it didn't pan out."
     "You didn't check out the source?!"  She raised her eyebrows.
     "Yes, of course I did.  I am an investigative reporter, remember."
This was good.  This interaction was just how things used to be between
them.  "Mary was exactly who she claimed to be, only she never got back to
me and though I've kept a check on the State Pen, nothing unusual's gone
down."
     "Mmmm.  Maybe, but my tingle tells me this Mary ties in with our
mysterious caller."
     "I agree, so let's do some investigating, partner," he threw the name
in to test the waters and was pleased when her lips curled up at the
corners in a tiny smile.
      "Right, partner," she echoed his words.  "You check with Inspector
Henderson and I'll take the prison.  Let's unearth whoever has the gall to
harass us."
     Clark was a happy man, finally there was an 'us'.  However, after a
busy afternoon of drawing a complete blank, he was ready to call it a day
and, looking over at his wife, he realised she too needed to rest.  As if
feeling his glance on her she rose and crossed to his desk.
     "Any luck?"
                                                                      He
shook his head.
      "Me neither.  The only thing going down at the Penitentiary is a
nasty dose of food poisoning.  Seems that half the prisoners are affected
to some degree and quite a number of staff."
     "Well, Henderson's heard nothing either and no one on the street's
talking about the prison.  Come on, Lois, we've done enough probing for
today, maybe we'll have more success tomorrow.  Let's go fetch Joel and go
home."
     They left the office together.  Clark didn't attempt to touch Lois,
much as though he wanted to, but he felt that he'd made some progress today
and he didn't feel like pushing his luck.
    Perry White and Jimmy watched them go and the two exchanged relieved
grins.  At last, their friends were leaving together.  Perhaps the iceberg
was beginning to melt.

                                                               **********

     The women sat in the basement of an opulent town house savouring a
delicious meal of all their favourite delicacies, washed down by some very
fine wine.  This was definitely the best meal they'd had in such a long
time, a great improvement on the food they'd been forced to consume these
past several years.
     The two women were an unlikely combination.  In ordinary circumstances
the older, sophisticated female would have spent little time in the company
of the silent and slightly intense doctor, but after a few days
incarcerated in a prison cell together, they had discovered a mutual hatred
for a specific journalistic couple.  During the intervening years they had
consolidated their sisterhood by fanning the flames of their shared malice
and planning their revenge.
    But for the moment they were content to enjoy their long-awaited
freedom.  They gazed about at their surroundings, assessing every detail in
an attempt to gain some insight into their mysterious benefactor.  All the
plans for their escape had been made through an intermediary and although
they had been given a name, they knew nothing about this person, apart from
what they could glean from the 'celebrity' columns.  However, if
possessions were any guide, this lady was doing very well for herself.  Of
course, there were no windows in the basement, but the heavy silk drapes
gave the appearance of hidden portals; and the paintings hanging on the
walls were, if originals, very expensive.  The table at which they were
seated was fashioned of glass and chrome, with a modern standard lamp
rising in a graceful arc across the tabletop, its light striking myriad
sparks from the fine crystal wine goblets.  The chairs were of chrome and
soft ivory leather.  A theme carried out in the soft furnishings of the
living area of the basement, where three large and comfortable couches
formed a horseshoe shape in the centre of the room.  Placed between the
settees were smaller glass tables.  A bookcase covered one wall and a vast
range of reading material from the intellectual to the steamiest
bodice-ripper filled the shelves.  A large screen T.V. and a high-tec hifi
system were the room's final pieces of furniture.  The whole effect was one
of understated luxury and seemed to have been created for just such guests
as themselves, who found it prudent to spend sometime away from the eyes of
the public and police.
      Considering the method of their escape, their co-conspirator had
immense influence and resources.   It took great organisational skills to
introduce an outbreak of gastro-enteritis into the prison population simply
to cover the transfer of two particular inmates to the sickbay, from where,
due to the more relaxed security of the medical wing, they could be more
easily removed.  What degree of coercion or bribery, or perhaps an element
of both, was used to persuade the substitutes to sacrifice their own
freedom was unknown.  The lookalikes had entered the Penitentiary with the
other nursing staff, who had been sent to assist the in-service medical
team with the epidemic.  Later that evening, at the end of the working
shift, they had shed their disguises and switched places with the two
patients.  There were definite similarities in looks and build between the
women and their impersonators, but the volunteers would inevitably be
discovered, since one of the prisoners had very distinguishing scars.
That, however, was not these ladies' problem.  They had simply donned the
discarded uniforms and walked out the gates with the other staff.  Both had
suffered a few anxious moments as they had passed by the guards, but
perhaps because it was the end of a busy day and the jailers were thinking
of a well-earned night off  and not paying strict attention, their fears
had been groundless.  No one had screamed in protest as they had boarded
the bus that drove them away from their place of incarceration and later
they had been picked up at the drop-off point and brought here to await a
meeting with their patron.
     The time for the prearranged meeting had arrived, for the door to the
basement opened and framed in the elevator was a small fair-headed female
figure sheathed in a very tight pink frock.  The dress showed off every
sexy curve and the long shining locks proclaimed the empty-headed blond
bimbo, a false persona that Mindy Church, head of the worldwide criminal
organisation 'Intergang', was very careful to promote.  Joined now with
Diana Stride and Dr. Gretchen Kelly, the three women had formed an unholy
alliance, united in their absolute hatred of Lois Lane and Clark Kent.
     Diana would provide the inspiration, Gretchen the relevant medical
knowledge and Mindy the materials to carry out their plan.  And the plan
was simple:  to expose Clark Kent as Superman and then kill him.
     At first Mindy had been sceptical of Diana's claim that Superman and
Kent were one in the same person, but on reflection it did explain a lot of
anomalies.  Besides, it wasn't really important, as long as they both died.
     Gretchen, on the other hand, was spurred by jealousy of Lex's
attraction to Lois Lane and, remembering the months of pain and torment she
had suffered following her horrific accident, she sought also her rival's
death, but the other women convinced her that leaving the reporter behind
to mourn her beloved husband was a more subtle and longer lasting revenge.
Soon all their dreams would be fulfilled.  There were just a few more
details to arrange and then the plan would be put into action.  Mindy
crossed the room to the others.
     "Welcome ladies, I do hope you enjoyed your meal."  With a wave of her
hand she indicated the leather couches.  "However, I do believe we have
plans to discuss and I'm sure, like me, you are anxious to begin."
     Diana Stride rose and followed Mindy.  "Mrs Church, we have been
formulating our plans for years.  We have had little else to occupy us, but
in order for our plans to succeed we need very specialised equipment."
     "Call me Mindy," she suggested pleasantly, dropping the baby soft
voice she normally used when addressing her male assistants.  "We shall
make out a shopping list and please don't be shy in your requests.  No
expense is too great for the completion of our task."
     Superman's destruction had been tried before, but each time Mindy had
had to rely on the assistance of men.  Now they would succeed.  Her fellow
plotters were women and Mindy firmly believed that the female of the
species was more deadly than the male.

                                                           **********

     Two days after that momentous meeting, Clark walked alone into the
newsroom.  Perry, seeing him from his editor's office, felt his stomach
drop.  The relationship between his top reporting team, who also happened
to be his dearest friends, appeared to be improving, which was good news on
both a professional and personal level.  Yet here was Clark, once again
alone.  Still, the young man came straight across the office and stuck his
head in the door.
      "Chief, Lois will be late in this morning.  When I left her, she had
her head over the loo bowl.  I'm afraid she's having a hard time with
morning sickness.  She said to tell you she'd be in just as soon as she
felt better."
                                Perry decided that as their boss and their
friend he could do a little digging.  "I couldn't help but notice that
things were getting a little better between you two.  Has Lois finally
decided to forgive you for getting her pregnant again so soon?"
     Clark looked slightly taken aback by this question.  Did everybody
know their private business?  And yet, Perry was a close friend and he'd
been concerned when things had started going wrong with their marriage.
Besides, Lois' condition was no longer a secret and knowing that, it didn't
take a genius to deduce the reasons behind the couple's obvious
unhappiness.  Perry deserved an answer.
     "I think the jury's still out on that one, but she is beginning to
warm to the idea of being a mom again..........a little.  Right now she's
intrigued by this story we've gotten into."
     "Just what story is that?"  This time Perry was all boss.
     "Well, to tell the truth, we're not sure.  I got this information
about the Women's Prison and then we started getting these weird phone
calls.  We both agree that there's a story somewhere.  We just haven't been
able to figure out where."
    As editor, Perry was about to warn his top reporter not to waste his
time running down a lead that might not pan out, when Jimmy shouted that
Clark had a call waiting at his desk.  Clark took the call and was amazed
and pleased when it turned out to be Mary, a very frightened Mary.
Everything she had suspected was true, and she had to tell someone.  As an
upright citizen (Lois would say Boy Scout), Clark suggested that Mary go to
the police and even offered to accompany her, an offer which she said she
might take him up on, if first he would meet her and listen to what she had
to say.  Clark complied and arranged to meet Mary in a downtown shopping
mall.  He was slightly surprised at her choice of venue, but she seemed to
believe that she would be safer in a crowd.
     He once again went into his editor's office and passed on his plans to
meet with the frightened girl, assess the information she had to give and
then decide if it was important enough to inform the police.  Perry gave
him his blessing and assured him he would relay the message to Lois, should
she show up when Clark was gone.  The situation between the two was still
tenuous and it wasn't wise to exacerbate the circumstances by allowing Lois
to think that Clark was excluding her from the investigation.

                                                              **********

      The Luthor Shopping Mall was, as usual for a Friday morning,
exceedingly crowded.  Busy shoppers thronged the galleries and took their
ease in the numerous cafes.  Why did everyone choose to shop on Fridays,
Clark wondered as he eased his way through the crowds towards the central
square, passing a paramedic team urgently in search of their reported
emergency.  He reached the rendezvous point a few minutes early and spent
the time checking out a T.V. news crew, busily setting up to film their own
project.  Clark hoped it was not connected to his story and that Mary would
not take fright when she spotted the cameras.  He scanned the area, hoping
to find a face he recognised; he had only met with her once before and that
exceedingly briefly.  She had assured him at that first meeting that she
had instantly recognised him, having seen his photograph in the Daily
Planet.  Yet the only thing he remembered about the girl was that he had
thought her plain.  Perhaps he was too engrossed with his troubles with
Lois to take much notice of other female's looks.  He tried to attune his
superhearing to approaching footsteps, but there was just too much
conflicting noise in the centre.  So he almost jumped visibly when a hand
touched his arm and a voice from behind said nervously.
     "Mr. Kent, thank you for meeting me.  I do hope you can help me."
 Turning in the girl's direction he offered his hand, but as she was
holding a large bundle of files, the customary handshake was not possible.
His memory of the informant was correct.  She was in her mid-twenties and
appeared very shy and quiet.
     "Ms. McConnachie?  I'll do whatever I can, but if this thing is as big
as you obviously  think, then we should involve the authorities.  Why don't
we get ourselves a coffee," he indicated the nearest coffeehouse, "and you
can tell me what it is you've discovered?"
     Clark and the girl headed in that direction, but before going more
than a couple of steps, two youngsters on rollerblades came hurtling
through the throng, swerving into Mary's path and knocking her clean off
her feet.  Then the kids swept on into the mall, oblivious to the chaos
they had created.  Papers were strewn all around the fallen woman who
seemed not to be hurt, but was very upset and scared that the files were
now exposed for all to see.  Kneeling beside her, Clark inquired about her
state of health, but when she informed him that she was only shaken he
hurriedly assisted her to retrieve her papers.  While he knelt by her side
picking up the scattered files, a pair of feet with rollerblades clamped to
their bottoms appeared in his line of vision and an apologetic voice asked
if it could help.  One of the boys, having spotted the mess left behind,
sheepishly offered his services.  Clark made to answer the request but
gasped in pain instead.  The all too familiar dizziness was overwhelming
him and the drawing pain caused by exposure to kryptonite was coursing
through his body.  But who was hiding the deadly rock?  He tried to focus
his x-ray vision to scan the crowds who, he noticed with dismay, were
forming a group around himself and Mary, drawn by curiosity to the
disturbance.  It was not good for him to be the centre of attention.  If
only he could stand, then perhaps he could get away from the source of his
disablement, so when the girl offered a helping hand he grasped at it like
a drowning man clutching a lifeline, which he very soon realised was a big
mistake.  The second her fingers closed round his he felt his hand start to
burn and a fire he had seldom experienced before spread up his arm and
infused his whole being.  His eyes locked onto the large carbuncle ring she
wore on her finger, which seemed completely out of character with the rest
of her apparel.  There was some form of device hidden in the ring which had
managed to pierce his skin and was now delivering liquid kryptonite into
his body.  He tried to pull his hand away, but he had become so weak, he
couldn't break her clasp.  Searching her face with his already clouding
eyes, he gasped out almost inaudibly.
      "Why?!  Why are you doing this?"
 She held hard to him for a few more moments, then smiling an unhealthy
smirk she dropped his hand as if it were something unclean and melted into
the crowd, on the pretext of fetching a doctor.  The young rollerblader
searched frantically for help, screaming for assistance, and then
thankfully it seemed as if his request was answered as the paramedic team
which Clark had passed earlier hurried to the scene to give their aid.
      By now Clark could hardly breathe and sweat stood out clearly on his
forehead.  His last coherent and whimsical thought as the medics bent
across his body was that it was thankful he wasn't wearing the suit or
everyone watching would learn his secret.  He was already passing into a
state of unconsciousness as an oxygen mask was placed over his face.

                                                                **********

     When the elevator doors opened onto the floor of the newspit and Lois
stepped out she was amazed to find the desks empty and a surprising hush
pervading the huge room.  Most of the newsroom staff were gathered round
the various T.V. monitors.  A big news story must be breaking and she
wasn't at the centre of it.  She hurried down the ramp to join the group
that included her editor, but before she reached them, Jimmy had nudged his
boss and Perry came quickly towards her, looking extremely upset.
     "What's happened, Chief?  What have I missed?"
     Perry cleared his throat and she wasn't sure she liked the pitying
look he was turning on her.  "Lois, my dear, maybe you should come into my
office and we can talk."
     This wasn't just a news story.  This was personal.  Lois shrugged off
his restraining hand and pushed her way through her colleagues.  They fell
back from her path as she came past, glancing away from her, but not before
she had noticed the shocked and dismayed looks on all of their faces.  She
came to stand by Jimmy and as she looked up at the screen she caught the
tail end of a news report.  The LNN outside broadcaster was winding up her
account, her face expressing a genuine concern.

     "So it seems that one of our fellow newsmen has himself today become
the story.  Clark Kent, an award-winning reporter for the Daily Planet,
collapsed, here in the Luthor Shopping Mall, of what appears to be,
according to the paramedics who attended him, a heart attack.  He has been
taken to a hospital and we will keep you informed of his condition in a
later bulletin.  This is Lisa Bancroft for LNN news from the Luthor
Shopping Mall."

     Lois' eyes widened in shock and disbelief and her mouth opened in an
unsuccessful attempt to speak.  She tried again and this time she managed
an audible squeak.
     "It's not true," she stated, shaking her head.  "It's not possible.
Not Clark."
 The Chief slid his arm about her shoulder and turned her towards his office.
     "I know, sweetheart, that it seems unlikely.  I mean, Clark always
seemed such a healthy type.  But it could be true and everyone here watched
the report and he did collapse.  Perhaps it's not as bad as it looked."
Perry knew he was making a terrible mess of trying to console Lois, but he
was having a hard time believing what he had just witnessed.
     "You don't understand, Perry.  It's impossible for Clark to have a
heart attack."  She was determinedly trying to explain, as if by convincing
Perry she could convince herself.  "There is only one thing that can make
Clark unwell and that's..........."
     Oh my god, what was she saying?  She had almost given away Clark's
secret.  She had to be more careful.  Even when her world was reeling about
her, she had to protect his secret identity.  But that had to be the
explanation.  Someone in the crowd must have been concealing kryptonite and
once the paramedics got him to hospital and away from the source of his
pain, then he would recover swiftly.  Any time now he would be walking into
the office, a little tired maybe, but totally healthy.  However, Perry
didn't know this and for appearance's sake, neither did she.  Her boss
turned at the door to his office.
     "Jimmy, Ralph, get on the phone.  Find out which hospital they've
taken Clark to."
     The two men jumped to do his bidding, not only because he was their
boss and in this mood you didn't ignore his orders, but also because Clark
was their friend and they were anxious to find out what was happening.
     Continuing to usher Lois inside away from prying eyes, Perry pushed
her down into the large plaid chair in front of his desk.  He could sense
that Lois was suffering from shock and, being wise to her condition, he
didn't want her fainting on the floor.  Lois allowed herself to be led, but
from here she couldn't see the elevators.  She began to fidget in her seat
and Perry took this as a clear sign of distress.
     "Lois," he knelt by her side, appropriating her quivering hands in his
strong clasp, hoping to infuse her with his own strength.  "Lois, honey,
perhaps you might like to phone the Kents.  They probably saw the news
bulletin, but just in case.........."  His voice tailed off for a moment,
but he gave himself a mental shake.  He had to stay calm for the benefit of
this poor girl, who he regarded as his own daughter.  "It would be better,
if they haven't already heard, that the news come from you."
     His suggestion wasn't only out of concern for Clark's parents.  Martha
was more than a mother-in-law to Lois, she was her friend and confidant and
there was no one who could comfort Lois more surely than the older woman.
Besides, giving Lois a task to do would help to steady her frayed nerves.
Lois immediately acquiesced and, picking up the handset, dialled the
number.  The phone was directly picked up, a sure sign that the older
couple had seen the report.
     "Is that you, Lois?"  An exceedingly strained male voice asked.
     "Jonathan?  Oh Jonathan, you know what has occurred?"
     The voice at the other end of the line answered in the affirmative.
Perry exited the office silently, leaving the family to console each other.
     "Kryptonite must have been involved," Lois whispered conspiratorially.
 "There's just no other explanation."
     "But will they discover that at the emergency unit when Clark arrives
there?"  Jonathan's ever-present concern for the preservation of Clark's
secret identity was clearly at the forefront of his anxiety.
     "I'm sure everything will be all right.  As long as Clark is no longer
in the vicinity of that horrid rock he'll quickly recover.  Probably by the
time he reaches the hospital.  The doctors will do a quick examination and
discharge him."
     "Exactly!  What will they find out when they examine him?"
     "Well, if he's been exposed to that stuff, he won't have any of his
superpowers."  Martha now joined the conversation on the cordless phone.
"And if I'm not mistaken, I don't believe he's wearing a 'suit' today.
Otherwise I'm sure the paramedics would have gotten the shock of their
lives when they went to his aid and everyone would know his identity by now."
     Lois had the grace to sound sheepish as she agreed with Martha.
After, all it was her neglect of Clark that had forced him to go 'suitless'
today, thank goodness.  Sometimes even mistakes turned out for the best.
     "And Clark is very adept at getting out of awkward situations.  He'll
blame his allergies or something and before we know it he'll be walking
into the newsroom and everyone here will tease him for giving us all such a
fright."  Lois finished on a falsely bright note.
     "Then why are you so concerned?" her mother-in-law inquired.
     A heartfelt sigh broke from Lois' lips.  It was impossible to fool
Martha. "I'm not sure Martha, perhaps it's my 'delicate condition'."  For
the first time she acknowledged her pregnancy to another soul apart from
her husband and it made her feel unexpectedly good.  But the feeling of
well being was fleeing.  "I have this strange sense of foreboding, as if
Clark really is in danger."
      Martha valued Lois' and her son's sixth sense that each had for the
other's welfare, and if Lois sensed something was wrong then she firmly
believed there would be just cause.  As if on cue Perry burst back into the
room and it was obvious he was the bearer of bad tidings.
     "Lois!" he shouted, not caring that he was interrupting a private
conversation.  "I've had Jimmy and Ralph checking the hospital admittance,
but they've contacted every medical facility in Metropolis and not one of
them has seen hide nor hair of Clark.  We've phoned the police and they're
checking it out.  It seems that Clark has disappeared."
     The news stunned Lois for a few seconds, then she turned back to the
phone conversation.
     "Martha, did you hear?  Clark's not at any of the emergency units."
     "Perhaps he felt much better and convinced the ambulance people to let
him go."  His father, in his distress for his son, was clutching at straws.
 Slowly Lois answered.
     "I don't think so.  Clark would realise how worried we are and he
would have returned as quickly as possible.  There is something very wrong
here.  We didn't want to upset you, but we have both received very strange
phone calls lately.  The caller doesn't talk, only laughs this very weird
laughter, then hangs up.  I think the phone calls were a warning.  Someone
has kidnapped Clark."
     Jimmy had joined his boss in the doorway and both men were looking at
Lois as if she had gone of the deep end.  This had been a severe shock and
she was probably hysterical, though she didn't look like she was suffering
from hysteria.  Instead she was wearing her determined look.  Actually,
inside Lois was suffering the torture of the damned.  She wished she could
just give way to the screams that were threatening to burst from her lips,
but that would not help Clark or bring him back to her and she knew now,
without any shadow of a doubt, that no matter whether they were content or
bitterly arguing, she loved her husband with all her heart and that life
without him was an empty sham.
     She speedily ended her conversation with Martha and Jonathan, telling
them she would keep them informed, but that she had work to do if she was
to bring Clark home.  In an ordinary family, the older pair might have been
upset by their daughter-in-law's matter-of-fact acceptance of the
situation, but both understood the bond between the couple and their
unswerving devotion to protecting each other's lives, which they didn't
achieve by indulging in hysterics.  Lois may not have had superpowers, but
she was brave and tenacious when danger threatened.
    Taking a few deep breaths to steady her, Lois turned to Perry.  "Chief,
was the news bulletin recorded?"
     "All news reports are taped Lois.  You know that."
     "Then I want that tape.  I want to study it.  I want to know what
happened."
     Jimmy hurried off to find the recording and soon the three friends
were sitting intently reviewing the LNN news segment.  After watching
several times, Perry and Jimmy were about to give up.  It was clear with
each repeat that Clark was a very sick man and seeing him collapse over and
over was not doing their equilibrium much good--and they weren't married to
the man.  Perry was attempting to suggest that perhaps Lois ought not to be
torturing herself in this manner when she froze the frame on the part of
the film that showed the paramedics working on the prone Clark.  Lois
jumped up and crossed to the large screen, swinging round to face her
audience, a look of intense concentration on her face.
     "If you were a medic attending a patient, who looked very much like he
was suffering a massive heart attack, wouldn't you, in your hurry to give
medical aid, rip open his shirt to expose his chest and not gingerly
unbutton the shirt?"  As if you expected to find something under the shirt
that you did not want others to see.  That last thought however, could not
be voiced in the present company.
      "So, they're just very careful medics."
      "Who didn't show up at any hospital," Lois reminded them.  She
restarted the tape and turned again to study the screen, watching intently
as one of the attendants went to fetch a gurney.  Both medics were female
and as the woman rose from Clark's side, Lois was surprised by the
voluptuous curves, very incongruous in a grey-haired woman in her late
fifties.  As the medic turned into the view of the camera lens, she lowered
her head, but not before Lois caught a glimpse of high cheekbones and
sultry eyes.  Once more the tape was replayed and Lois shrieked in shock
and triumph.
     "Diana Stride!!"
     "That's impossible Lois, Diana Stride is in prison and will be for
many years to come," Perry reminded her.
     "Wasn't she the 'Top Copy' reporter who thought that CK was Superman?"
 Jimmy recollected.
     "Yes.  She was also an assassin for Intergang.  Clark and I exposed
her and sent her to prison.  She swore to be revenged."
     "She must be crazy too, to think that CK and Superman are the same
person.  No offence, Lois.  Clark is my best buddy, but Superman he ain't."
 Jimmy blushed as he realised he had insulted his friend.  Lois, on the
other hand, was quick to agree.  The less anyone thought of Clark and the
hero in the same category the better.
     "Diana Stride is crazy and she still believes that Kent is the Man of
Steel, even though the prison psychiatrist forced her to watch that latest
news conference when that other 'crazy' Tempus attempted to convince us all
of that fact, when everyone in their right minds could see Superman on the
podium and you and your husband in the crowd."  Another voice had joined
the conversation and the three news people looked towards its source.
Inspector Henderson stood at the entrance of the office.  "Diana Stride is
also on the loose.  She and a fellow inmate, Dr. Gretchen Kelly, broke out
of prison two days ago.  Unfortunately, it wasn't discovered until late
last night.  It seems that two lookalikes took their places and, what with
the chaos caused by the stomach virus epidemic, the authorities didn't
grasp that they'd gone.  The State Pen staff appear to be mightily
embarrassed at misplacing two of their most dangerous prisoners, because
they were real slow in issuing an APB.  The report didn't come over my desk
until an hour ago."
     "And now that woman has my husband."  Lois' face was etched with shock
and pain.
     "This Gretchen Kelly was Lex Luthor's doctor?" Perry asked in dread.
     "But didn't she get electrocuted?"  Jimmy frowned as he tried to
recall the events of a few years back.
     "Yes."  Again the Inspector came up with the information.  "That was
when we apprehended Lex Luthor the first time.  Kelly was thrown up against
some high voltage cables, but surprisingly she didn't die.  Her body
received horrific burns and she suffered severe trauma.  Despite that, she
managed to survive."  The policeman was clearly worried.  "Hate is a
powerful stimulus."
     "Oh my god, Clark," Lois spoke through shaking fingers that were
pressed hard against her lips, thinking about her husband, helpless in the
hands of two women who so uncompromisingly hated him.  "Survived to join a
whole host of miscreants just waiting to take their revenge on Clark and me."
     Henderson strove to assure her of police cooperation.  "I have my men
out searching for that ambulance and we're studying the security tapes from
the shopping mall.  We'll trace the people who were with Clark.  A healthy
man like your husband just doesn't collapse for no reason.  He had to have
been drugged.  Someone in the crowd must have had a hidden hypodermic.
It's the only explanation."
     Lois, of course, couldn't give them the true explanation, but she did
have some information.
      "Mary McConnachie.  That's the name of the woman Clark went to meet.
She works at the prison.  She said she had information."  As she spoke,
Lois rewound the tape until she found the frames with Mary and Clark.
"Jimmy, pull up Clark's files on this woman and give them to the Inspector."
     "Good, we'll take everything you've got."  Henderson turned to follow
Jimmy, but he stopped at the door.  "Lois, I promise to pull out all the
stops on this one.  Clark is a friend of mine."

                                                               **********

     At 2:00 a.m. next morning, Lois finally gave up all hope of sleep.
She had made frequent excursions into her baby's bedroom to check that he
was sleeping peacefully and had not been spirited away by some evil enemy,
but Joel dozed contentedly on, his tiny thumb stuck resolutely in his
mouth, unaware of his mother's anxious ministrations.  She tiptoed
downstairs, so not to waken her in-laws, who had elected to stay with her
until Clark came safely home, and wandered distractedly into the kitchen.
She poured herself a drink from the coffee maker and sat at the table.  The
coffee was old and tasted bitter in her mouth.  The taste matched her mood.
 Over and over in her mind, she relived these last weeks spent with Clark
and she was consumed with guilt.  Lost in her sad reverie Lois didn't
notice Martha enter the kitchen and cross to her side.
     "Can't sleep?"  Martha asked gently.  "Me neither."
     "Oh Martha, every time I close my eyes I see Clark lying on the floor
of the shopping mall!"
     Martha's hand closed over Lois' clenched fist and the older woman
slipped into a chair by her side.    "Many people have tried to destroy
Clark before and he has always come through."
     "These two women loathe Clark.  It scares me to think what they have
planned for him, but there's more to all this.  Their prison break took a
lot of money and influence to arrange.  What if Diana Stride is back on
Intergang's payroll?"
     Martha squeezed her daughter-in-law's hand sympathetically.  "You
might be right, but that's not the only thing that's troubling you."
     Lois smiled sadly.  "Clark has often said that he could never fool
you."  Sighing softly, she continued.  "I have treated him so badly over
these last weeks.  I have said so many harsh words.  I don't know why he
puts up with me."
     This time it was Martha who sighed.  "Lois, there have been times
lately when I have felt like shaking you, especially when I saw Clark so
completely unhappy.  But I know my son and I know that he doesn't always
handle things in the correct manner."
     Lois forbore to tell Martha just how Clark proposed handling an
unexpected pregnancy.  On reflection, she perceived that his suggestion was
made out of desperation and was not something Clark wished to happen.
     "But my dear, Clark puts up with you because he is completely in love
with you."
     "And I love him.  And now I may never get to tell him again.  His
babies might be all that I have left of him."  On these words the sobs
broke through Lois' disciplined calm and she found herself weeping in
Martha's arms, as the two Kent women sought to comfort each other.

                                                            **********

      Only a few short blocks to the west, in an up-market part of the
city, the person who was the object of all their concerns lay insensible,
strapped to a surgical table, transfixed in the glare of a powerful
spotlight and imprisoned in the basement of Mindy Church's townhouse.  The
cell that held him was very different from his kidnappers' quarters.  His
prison walls were built of thick whitewashed concrete and the solitary door
was solid steel and sealed with a state-of-the-art electronic lock.  A drug
cabinet was the room's only other piece of furniture and on the wall to the
right of the door was a large two-way mirror.  Behind it stood the three
women, gloating like Shakespeare's witches in a scene from Macbeth.  They
were highly delighted at the success of the first stage of their plan and
at their victim's apparent comatose state.  Laughing demonically, they went
to celebrate their accomplishment.
     Clark, meanwhile, struggled to regain consciousness through a fog of
confusion and suffering.  Never in his life had he encountered such pain
and he had been exposed to kryptonite a number of times in the past.  The
source of pain began in his right arm and spread throughout his whole
being.  He forced his head to turn in the direction of his torment, the
movement immediately causing a migraine of drastic proportions.  To his
horror he saw an intravenous drip steadily pumping a glowing green
poisonous liquid into his veins.  He tried desperately to wrench his arm
from the I.V., but his bonds were too strong and his super strength had
long since dissipated due to the effects of that toxic infusion.
     Once before had kryptonite been introduced internally into his body
and it had almost killed him.  On that occasion, in order to destroy the
cancer invading his system, he had entered a nuclear reactor and the
massive dose of radiation he received had saved his life.  Diana Stride had
been behind that attempt to assassinate him and some echo of the past was
nagging at his tortured senses.  He struggled to remember the incident in
the shopping mall; the rollerblader stopping by had started the chain of
events that brought him here; Mary's deadly hand clasp; then, in a flash of
recognition, the paramedic bending over him to place the oxygen mask on his
face was his old enemy............Diana Stride.  Only this time she had
succeeded in her attempt at his destruction.  The kryptonite coursing
through his body was far greater than anything he had experienced before.
A new wave of giddiness hit him and he sank gratefully into blackness.

                                                            **********

     Next morning Diana and Gretchen chose to visit their prey.  The doctor
wanted to check on Clark's medical status and, as Superman's early demise
was not part of the plan, the administration of the kryptonite had to be
carefully monitored.  Diana simply came to gloat.  This man had humiliated
her in front of her T.V. audience of millions and robbed her of her
freedom.  Now was payback time.  It had been something of a shock to
discover that there was no red and blue suit beneath Kent's civilian
clothes.  Yet the introduction of kryptonite had rendered him helpless and
if he was human there would have been no ill effect.  Further contamination
by the green rock had made him increasingly sick and this evidence had
convinced Mindy and Gretchen that her conjecture was correct.  In a few
days, when his death by kryptonite poisoning was inevitable, she would
expose him and all those he loved to the world and her revenge would be
complete.
    At present, an insensible victim was not much fun.  She wished to taunt
him with her triumph.  For this purpose she had carried a large beaker of
icy water into the cell and now proceeded to pour the water in a steady
flow down onto his face and chest.  The freezing blast of water brought
Clark from his safe haven of unconsciousness.  His nose and throat filled
with water and threatened to choke him.  Gretchen quickly turned his head
from the steady stream.
      "Be careful, Diana, his state of health is precarious.  It would not
be in any of our interests if you drowned him before our expose."
     "Don't worry.  I have waited for this moment for so long, I intend to
have my pound of flesh, but I have every intention of Mr. Kent here
participating in the last act."
     With that assurance Gretchen Kelly had to be content.  However, she
felt sure that Mrs. Church would be interested to know what was going on
between Diana and Kent, so with that in mind she vacated the cell.
     Clark had heard this exchange through a thick smog that clouded his
brain and made logical thinking difficult.  He sensed that he was alone
with the Stride woman and every instinct told him this was not good.  He
pretended to remain asleep, which he soon conceived was not a wise choice.
Diana's clenched fist smashed into his left cheek, her love of jewellery
inflicting more damage than the punch, as her ornate rings scored into his
skin.  His eyes opened in shock upon his tormentor.
     "That's better, Mr. Kent.  Don't you know that it's bad manners to
ignore a lady?"
     "I see no lady present."  Clark collected his rasping breath to
answer, but regretted his words of bravado instantly when in answer the
fist crashed into his other cheek and the rings this time cut across his
right eye.  That would definitely be one huge black eye.
     "What do you want, Diana?"
     "I want you to beg for mercy."
     Because of the throbbing headache he was suffering from, Clark forbore
to shake his head and his response came in short gasps.  "You may torture
me...... You may even kill me.......but you will never hear me beg."
     The skin of Diana's face took on an ashen hue and for a few minutes
she was speechless.
     "I see, Superman never begs, nevertheless, you will die and in agony.
My associates and I will make sure of that.  And everyone in the world will
know that my theory was correct.  That Clark Kent and Superman are one."
     What the consequences of this revelation would mean to his family,
especially if he were no longer around to protect them, made Clark for a
moment loose all coherent thought and he struggled uselessly against the
heavy leather straps that held him.  Recognising that she had finally
penetrated his steely control, Diana smiled slyly and, nonchalantly taking
his left wrist in her hands she bent it slowly back against the restraints
until he felt his bones snap.  His final thought as he fainted away, was
that prison had clearly robbed this woman of her sanity.
     Diana seethed with rage.  Superman was not supposed to faint with
weakness.  She pummelled his chest with her balled fists in order to revive
him, but Clark was already far away, dreaming of his wife and child.  This
was the scene Intergang's henchman witnessed when he was sent by his boss
to fetch Ms. Stride.  He coughed surreptitiously, but the woman was
completely unaware of his presence.  Taking his life in his hands, he
crossed to her side and shook her shoulder with a tentative hand.  The
venomous look she turned on him made him think that he might be about to
meet his maker.  However, after a heartbeat the woman relaxed and without
speaking left the room.  It had been though, a close run thing, he later
told his co-workers and advised them to keep a safe distance from the mad
Ms. Stride.

                                                            **********

     From the moment that Clark collapsed, virtually in range of the
television cameras, and as his subsequent disappearance became known, the
news was full of 'his' story.  His life as an award-winning journalist, his
marriage to Lois Lane and his association with Superman.  This last
development disturbed his family immensely.  Clark had always striven to
distance himself from the super hero as much as possible.
     The news bulletins also speculated on the other breaking story, Stride
and Kelly's miraculous escape from jail, and it wasn't long before the
media linked the two reports. The morning edition of the Daily Planet
carried the two articles as its leading headlines.  Lois, knowing the
Planet was one of Metropolis' foremost newspapers, expected nothing less,
but Perry White himself had elected to write the piece on Clark and she was
grateful for his delicate handling of the story.
    The phone at the Kents' townhouse had rung incessantly from a very
early hour and the answering machine was working overtime.  Every reporter
on the eastern seaboard and beyond was claiming a special kinship with
Clark.  Amongst the calls from fellow media personnel was one that rose
goose bumps on the skin of the listening family.  A specifically nasty
cackle filled the room, of short-lived but frightening proportions.
Inspector Henderson had wanted to place one of his people in the house to
monitor the phone calls but Lois was adamant in her wish to have no
strangers around to witness Clark's return, whenever or however that might
be.  They could watch and tap the phone line from outside the house if they
must, though Lois was quite certain that the criminals holding Clark were
far too professional to allow themselves to be caught by the simple
expedient of a phone trace.  After the call from the maniacal joker,
Jonathan lost patience and yanked the phone cord from its point.  They were
all beginning to feel the strain of waiting.
     Martha busied herself with caring for her grandson, while attempting
to keep her husband calm by sending him to the store for what she
maintained were much needed provisions.  As Clark had visited the shops the
day before his abduction and returned with four full sacks of groceries,
Lois saw through Martha's subterfuge, but was warmed by the concern that
had prompted it.
     Lois felt she ought to be out there investigating, but hadn't the
heart to leave the house, wanting to be here in case there was any word
from the police or more hopefully, if Clark should escape and make his way
home.  Instead she sent Jimmy and Ralph to check on Mary's apartment.  At
lunch time they reported in with the information that the girl had vacated
the premises just the day before last.  She had packed all her belongings,
paid the final rent and, as in all good mystery stories, disappeared into
the night.  The young men had bribed the janitor of the block and been
allowed to view the small apartment, but the place had been stripped clean
and she had left no forwarding address.
     Close on the heels of the two cub reporters came Inspector Henderson,
who backed up the tale of Ms. McConnachie's vanishing act.  It seemed she
also phoned in sick to the State Prison two days previously, which had not
surprised her work supervisor as a large proportion of the prison staff had
gone down with the stomach bug.  Mary's only living relative was an aged
mother, who was a resident in the 'St. Bride Nursing Home'.  The inspector
had questioned the old lady himself, but as she was a 'dementia sufferer'
she could tell them nothing relevant.  Then again, when he had quizzed the
Chief Administrator of the home about Mary's procedure for taking care of
her mother's living expenses, he discovered an interesting fact.  A certain
firm of lawyers had assumed responsibility for payment of all bills.  And,
surprise, surprise, the law firm in question had, in recent months, as
reported in police circles, been linked tenuously to Intergang.  The
elation Lois should have been experiencing at this confirmation of her
suspicions completely eluded her.  Conversely, she only felt an increasing
unease that such a powerful and evil organization was holding her husband.
      Before Henderson left, he had one other piece of rather bizarre
information to impart; on completion of their search of the shopping mall
the police had drawn another blank, except for the discovery of an
abandoned pair of rollerblades stashed in a trash bin.  Strangely, they had
found in the heel of the right boot a hollow compartment.  Henderson had
sent the roller boots to forensics for analysis; perhaps the lab boys could
find some clues.  The three Kents shared a knowing look.  Neither one of
them needed a lab report to tell them what had been hidden in the boot.

                                                            **********

     Back in the basement, the insidious cold revived a shivering Clark.
What was that extremely annoying tapping sound that had caused him to wake
from his pleasant dreams of his family?  My god!!  It was his own teeth
chattering in his mouth.  He was freezing cold.  Trying to still his
trembling limbs, he achingly raised his head and, forcing open his swollen
eyelids, he looked down over his body.  Oh my god!!  He was completely
naked!!  These women meant business, but they also meant to humiliate him
prior to murdering him.  It was a toss-up as to which would kill him first,
the kryptonite or hypothermia.  The pain in his body had lessened and now
he just felt utterly numb, so it seemed that freezing to death was the
better bet.
     The door opened silently and Gretchen entered the room.  She checked
the monitors behind his head and Clark became aware, for the first time, of
the sensors attached to his body.  Dr. Gretchen Kelly hated this man who
had been responsible for the death of the only person she had ever loved.
It mattered not one iota that the object of her affection had not returned
her love, had even treated her like a pet puppy, throwing scraps of
attention her way whenever  he required her services.  It didn't even
matter that it had been Lex's hand that had thrown her against the electric
cables, practically causing her death and certainly causing her a period of
pain and horror such as she could never have imagined.  Chaos had reigned
in that underground chamber when Superman had burst in to rescue Lois Lane,
and her poor Lex, having already suffered so much at the super hero's
hands, hadn't been responsible for his actions.  Gretchen had readily
forgiven Luthor, her hopeless love enabling her to transfer  the blame for
all her pain onto the Man of Steel.  In her eyes, Lex Luthor had been a
great man and she had been content to serve him, until he had been killed
while pitting his wits against Clark Kent or Superman.  Now she had her
enemy at her mercy.  Nevertheless, she was a physician and she found it
difficult to rationalise the oath she had taken at the outset of her career
with her current activities.  And, as a doctor, she disliked reducing this
excellent specimen of a man into a physical wreck.
     Laying her hand on his chest, she found little remaining warmth in his
body.  His skin felt cold and clammy.  Suddenly, her hand was snatched from
its resting place.
     "Why are you here?"  Diana Stride demanded possessively.  She
illogically believed that only she had the right to visit her prisoner.
Gretchen stifled a quiver.  Her former cellmate was acting increasingly
psychotically.
     "I'm merely checking his vital signs," she explained, hoping to
placate the other woman.
     "And how is our patient doing?"
     "Very poorly."
      "Good."  That pleased Diana immensely.  "Still, it does seem a shame
to ruin such a perfect physique."
     She had detected a flickering of Clark's eyelids and had deduced that
he was conscious and listening to their conversation.  A craving to further
torment him possessed her.  Bending over him, she planted a kiss firmly on
his cracked lips.  Taken unawares, Clark pulled his head aside, but she
took his chin in a firm grasp and held him immobile as she continued to
assault his mouth.  At last she set him free, cooing seductively.
     "I'm sure you have been waiting for a repeat performance of our kiss
for a very long time, as have I."
     She trailed her hand down his neck, across his chest towards his
abdomen, then sliding even lower, she halted there in a lingering caress
and all the while she was laughing, that fiendish laughter and Clark knew,
without question, who had made those mysterious phone calls.  Physically he
shrank from her touch and mentally he retreated inside the shell of his
ravaged body.   Succour came from an unexpected source.
     "Stop that immediately!"  A strident female voice halted Diana's
obscene fondling and silenced the crazy mirth.  The newcomer strode
purposely to the table to study, objectively, the supine figure.  "What is
his status?"  Mindy directed her authoritative query towards the doctor.
     "He's weakening very quickly.  In my opinion, we have to move swiftly
onto the second step of our scheme."
     Mindy nodded her head, then leaned down to whisper in Clark's ear.
"Mr. Kent!  Superman!  I know you can hear me."
     Clark decided not to antagonise the witches so he looked in the
direction of the voice, but his sorely injured eyes refused to focus on the
face above him.
     "That's better, Mr. Kent, I do hate to be ignored.  I thought perhaps
you would like to be informed of act two, especially since you are such an
important player in our little production.   My colleagues and I propose to
deposit you outside the Daily Planet building tomorrow at 8:00 a.m., during
the early morning rush hour.  After all, we feel that you deserve a large
audience.  In your sorry state, you'll be transferred directly to hospital
and there the doctors will discover that, along with all the superficial
injuries, you are suffering from kryptonite poisoning..........."
     "And my 'Top Copy' expose will be finally vindicated," Diana announced
victoriously.
     "Ladies, I think that Mr. Kent should be left alone to contemplate his
future," Mindy suggested.
     "A very short future," Diana could not resist the final tease.

                                                             **********

     No one was ever quite sure who first asked the question, but, by the
time the evening news programmes were broadcast, it was being frequently
repeated.
     Where was Superman and why was he not assisting the police with their
search for Clark Kent, the man Superman often named as his friend?
      Even Perry had been sufficiently intrigued to visit Lois to ascertain
whether the super hero was on the case.  Lois reassured her editor that she
was still trying to contact Superman, but, for the present, she had not
succeeded.  Maybe he was tending to an emergency in some other place and
hadn't heard what had befallen Clark.  This explanation did not strictly
satisfy the veteran newsman as no major disasters had been reported from
anywhere in the world.  Yet the possibility could not be ruled out.
Meanwhile, the questions concerning Superman's absence continued to be asked.

                                                                 **********

      Much later that night, the head of Intergang returned to the cell in
the basement.  Superman had rained on too many of Mindy's parades and she
was as equally ruthless and vindictive as her compatriot, but unlike Diana
she did not appreciate the hands-on approach.  She trusted Dr. Kelly's
prognosis that kryptonite toxaemia would very shortly kill Clark Kent.
Nevertheless, she was not averse to taking out a small insurance policy.
With those things in mind, she was accompanied by two of Intergang's more
reliable hoods.  Standing over her intended victim, Mindy instructed her
hirelings.
     "This gentleman is Clark Kent.  As you probably know, he has been a
thorn in my side for far too long.  I should like him punished for his
temerity and I expect you also might have a few scores of your own to
settle.  I grant you permission to do so.  However, I also offer a word of
caution.  You may rough him up a little, but on no account might you
eliminate him."  She paused for a moment to be sure that this order sank
into their uneducated brains.  "When you have chastised our guest
sufficiently, I want him dressed and made ready for his personal appearance
tomorrow morning."  Crossing to the cabinet she removed Kent's clothes from
a locked drawer, pointedly placing his glasses on top of the pile.  "Don't
forget the glasses.  We wouldn't want him not to be recognised.  But
remember, I have very definite designs for Mr. Kent and I would be very
disappointed if he were unable to attend the grand finale."
     After their employer exited the room, they wasted no time in obeying
her instructions, but first they unstrapped Clark from the table and,
pushing it aside, they dumped him unceremoniously to the floor, knocking
the I.V. tube from his arm as they did so.  Clark groaned on hitting the
floor and unsuccessfully tried to protect himself from the copious blows
that rained down on his body.  At a particularly vicious kick he felt his
ribs crack and it occurred to him that the two thugs had forgotten their
leader's command, so it astonished him when one of the hoodlums grabbed his
mate.
     "Enough!  Melvyn, that's enough!  The boss doesn't want him dead.  If
we disobey her it'll be us that end up in Hobbs Bay.  Let's finish up here
and go share a few beers."
     Melvyn wasn't pleased to end the beating but he saw sense in his
partner's prudence.  They speedily, though not very carefully, pushed and
pulled at Clark's clothes until he was fully dressed, rammed the glasses on
his face, then left him nigh-on insensible on the ground.
     Thankful that he had survived the assault, he crawled disjointedly to
the nearest wall and propped his back against it.  Sitting upright caused
the vertigo to return in full force and he struggled valiantly to remain
erect.  Very slowly he began to review his current situation.  Mindy
Church's thirst for vengeance had had the opposite effect to the one she
desired.  His bonds were broken and, more significantly, the lethal I.V.
was no longer dripping into his veins.  Also he was now, in some fashion,
fully clothed and the intense cold was having less influence on his health
and mobility.  If there was ever to be a chance for freedom, then he had to
take it now.  Using the walls as a crutch, he managed to pull himself to
his feet, then stumbled round the room to the door.  Provided he could
summon one tiny burst of laser-vision he might be able to burn out the
electronic locking system, but fortunately the effort was not required as
the gangsters had carelessly (depending on your point of view) left the
door ajar.  Clark surmised that there would soon be two openings on
Intergang's payroll when his escape was discovered, but that thought was
probably premature as he was not yet free and clear.  He listened as best
he could for signs of a guard in the corridors outside, but the whole
basement was silent.  Obviously they had underestimated his ability to
attempt a getaway.  He may no longer possess superpowers, but an ordinary
man could perform feats well outside his normal scope, if he were
determined enough.  That night, by force of will alone, Clark found his way
out of the cellar and through the backyard into the street.  He had one
scary moment in his bid for freedom when he had nearly fallen into a stack
of trash cans, which would have sent them crashing extremely loudly to the
ground and alerted his captors.
     Instead, he had fought to regain his balance and caught an errant
metal lid before it hit the ground, causing his broken wrist to protest in
pain.  His shattered nerves and ragged breathing forced him to pause for
some moments, but, since it seemed his warders were still unaware of his
break out, he pushed himself stealthily on across the open garden.  He
prayed with every step that no inhabitant of the house would look out of
the windows and, spotting his stumbling escape bid, raise the alarm.
Eventually he reached the back wall and using the bushes and trees that
bordered the perimeter of the garden, he somehow clambered to the top of
the wall and literally fell over the other side to freedom.

                                                              ***********

     In the Hyperion Avenue townhouse, all four Kents were asleep.  For the
present, Joel was unconcerned by his Daddy's absence, as it had occurred a
number of times previously when Clark had been off doing his Superman
duties, and therefore the baby's sleep patterns were not yet disrupted.
The adults had fallen, at last, into a sleep of exhaustion, having survived
what might be considered the worst two days of their entire lives.
     The house was dark and unwelcoming when Clark staggered up the last
steps to his own front door, his willpower and energy ebbing swiftly away
with each tortured move.  He roused the household by the simple expedient
of falling against the doorbell and watched in relief as the lights came on
indoors.
     The relentless ringing roused Lois from her stupor and her first
reaction had been to dive back under the quilt and pull the pillow firmly
over her head.  That thought lasted but a second, then she scrambled out of
bed and, without pulling on a robe, she scurried barefoot downstairs.
Perhaps the police had finally gotten news of Clark or perhaps it was Jimmy
with some important information.  Their young friend had been determined to
return to the office and research Stride's and Kelly's backgrounds, in the
hope it would lead him to CK's whereabouts.
     Lois undid the lock and snatched open the door, only to stand
mesmerised by the sight that was before her.  She heard Martha call to her
from the stair landing and opened her mouth to answer but no sound came
forth.  Her eyes filled with tears as she opened her arms to her husband,
who crumpled into her embrace.  The couple screamed in unison when they hit
the floor together.  Clark convulsed with pain as, with the impact, his
broken ribs stabbed into his left lung.
     Martha hurried to the doorway to aid her son, but neither woman was
quite certain how best that might be done.  The door was firmly closed and
locked against prying eyes.  Clark had to be suffering from the
consequences of kryptonite exposure but, as there was definitely none of
the evil stuff close at hand, he ought not to be in such a dreadful state.
     "Lois!!"  Clark summoned up all his fading breath, yet even so his
wife had to strain to hear.  "Fetch Dr. Klein."  A strange whistling
accompanied his words and he had to stop to catch his breath, which seemed
to be escaping like water through a sieve.  "Kryptonite........ in my
blood..........I.V.........."
  Martha and Lois exchanged horrified glances.
     "An I.V., Clark?  Was it kryptonite?  Did Dr. Kelly feed you
kryptonite intravenously?"
     The questions babbled out of Lois' mouth in her usual manner.
     "Yes......... Stride too.........Dr. Klein..........help
me........have to know...........about Superman."
     Superman had reached the end of his tether and his head rolled
forward.  Softly Lois cradled him against her shoulder as her tears dropped
into his dark hair.
     Shaking the distraught girl to gain her attention, Martha spoke
quietly in order not to disturb her son.  "We have to get him into bed, try
to make him comfortable."
     "But how, Martha?  It won't be easy for us to carry him."
     Jonathan came downstairs to join his women folk and discover what the
commotion was which had awakened him.  Though shocked to his very core by
his son's appearance, he at once took charge of the situation.
      "If we can lift him into one of the carver chairs and strap him in
somehow, then there's less chance of him being jostled as we carry him
upstairs."  Lois was about to protest that the chair would only add to the
weight, but Jonathan continued urgently.  "Listen to his breathing.  Can
you hear the whistle?  I think that Clark has a punctured lung and we have
to be careful moving him.  Lois, phone Dr. Klein.  We need him here, NOW."
     Lois was a very scared young woman and she hurriedly did as she was
bid, giving the doctor very little information over the phone, in case of
listening ears, but nevertheless managing to convey a sense of urgency, for
the doctor promised to come over forthwith.   When she hung up the phone,
her parents-in-law were almost finished securing Clark in a dining chair
with a white cotton bed-sheet.  It frightened her even more to see his skin
colour was as pale as the bindings.
     Somehow they managed to transport their precious cargo upstairs, but
although they took great care and he was still in a dead faint, Clark
groaned at every jolt.  They worked swiftly and silently, each containing
their shock at the cuts and contusions they uncovered when stripping off
his clothes, but finally he was safely installed in bed.
     The pealing doorbell heralded Dr. Bernard Klein's arrival and Lois
rushed back downstairs to let him in.  Clark had said that the doctor
should be told his secret but, so ingrained upon Lois' mind was the need
for privacy,  she frantically sought other options.  Say that Clark was
still missing and that Superman had come to them hurt and seeking succour.
That would explain why the hero had not been able to assist in the search,
but would it appear too coincidental?  And could she justify wasting police
time when they continued to seek unnecessarily for someone who was already
found?  Tangled thoughts chased through her confused brain, so for the
moment, she decided to tell the physician as little as possible.
      She ushered Bernard indoors with a quick welcome.
     "Dr. Klein, thank god you've come.  Superman is here in our bed and
he's very ill.  I'm sure kryptonite must be the cause."  She escorted the
doctor upstairs, words tumbling out in a surfeit of excuses.  "Of course,
he'd heard about Clark and he'd like to help, but he does seem to be sick.
They haven't found Clark yet."  She finished in a very small voice,
habitual secrecy winning out over reason.
     "Lois!!"  Outside the bedroom door Bernard halted her by placing both
hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him.  "Lois, please say no
more.  I know!  I know Clark is Superman!  I've known for some time."
     His words stunned Lois.  "How?"
     Bernard chose his words carefully.  He recognised that this young
woman was very close to the edge.  "It wasn't any single thing.  I didn't
have a blinding flash of recognition or anything like that.  The
realisation just seemed to grow in me.  I am Superman's physician after all
and perhaps I have more specific contact with him than do others."  He
tried another tack in his explanation.  "Then there's your relationship
with Superman.  I used to think that it was as if the two of you were
married.  I can tell you that at one point I considered you a very fickle
woman.  Then I realised you were........ I mean married not fickle........
to Clark and Superman.  I felt quite relieved."
     "Dr. Klein, why did you never tell us?"
     "I reckoned you both had enough to worry about.  Besides, I reasoned
that if no one knew that I knew, then no one would bother me.  Being known
as the 'nutty professor' does have certain advantages."
      That piece of humour brought a smile to Lois' lips, but it was
quickly wiped away by Martha's urgent call for help.  Hurrying into the
room they saw Clark had turned a distinct shade of blue, while his breath
wheezed in and out like a set of ancient bellows.  Bernard took charge
immediately and there was no sign anywhere of the 'nutty professor'.  He
sent Jonathan to fetch his medical kit from his car and instructed Martha
to bring hot water and towels.  After a very swift examination, he
concurred with Jonathan's summation that Clark had perforated a lung and
explained that the air was escaping into the chest cavity and causing the
patient acute distress.  A drain had to be inserted through the chest wall
to allow the trapped air to escape.
     Klein's medical bag was brought to the bed and the doctor extracted
the instruments needed for such a procedure.  Of course, because dealing
with this kind of emergency was not one of Bernard's usual activities, a
great deal of the implements required had to be improvised.  The watchers
were amazed by the range of the doctor's inventiveness and following a
short period of raiding kitchen cupboards and Martha's sewing basket, he
was ready to begin.  Jonathan was conscripted as the doctor's assistant
and, although the operation was hardly carried out under clinical
conditions, Bernard proved to be a skilful surgeon.  A tube was inserted
between Clark's ribs and once the trapped air and blood-speckled fluid
drained away his colour returned from blue to white.  The draining pipe was
left in place to prevent a further build-up of air and when the major
surgery was successfully completed the doctor proceeded to the other
injuries.  The broken wrist was splinted and the ribs eased back into their
correct position, then, leaving the cuts to be washed and dressed by
Martha, both Bernard and Jonathan went to wash up.  Finally, when all
Clark's wounds were treated, the bed stripped of the stained sheets and
remade with fresh linen, he was gently laid back in bed to rest.  The
problem of the kryptonite still had to be dealt with, but the immediate
emergency was over.
     Bernard asked for strong black coffee to revive his traumatised
nerves.  Never since his years as a young resident surgeon had he been
required to operate on a living patient and he needed time out before he
tackled the next phase of Clark's treatment.  Lois was loathe to leave her
husband even though the doctor assured her that he was liable to remain
comatose for a number of hours.  Not until Martha fetched the baby alarm
intercom and set it by Clark's bedside was Lois persuaded to go down to the
kitchen.  Once there, Martha made fresh coffee for everyone and they sat
down to a family conference.  Lois broke the short silence.
     "Dr. Klein, is Clark going to die?"
     "I sincerely hope not, my dear, but his current exposure to kryptonite
is quite outside my experience.  Normally when Superman is removed from its
influence the rejuvenation process begins, yet this time he seems to be
growing steadily weaker."
     "Before my son passed out, he managed to tell us that the kryptonite
was administered intravenously," Martha explained.  "The horrible stuff is
inside his body."
     "Oh my!  Oh my!"  Just as a note of trepidation encroached into
Bernard's voice, Lois was suddenly inspired.
     "Doctor, it happened to Clark once before and he used radiation to
burn out the kryptonite."
     Bernard hated to deflate the poor girl.  "Yes, I remember, I read the
report, but I'm sorry, that is not an option this time.  Clark is so poorly
that the amount of radiation required would surely kill him."
     The tragic look on Lois' face broke the hearts of the others around
the table.
     "There must be something you can do, Doctor," Martha entreated.
     Bernard stayed quiet for a few thoughtful moments; then, reaching a
decision, he spoke more assertively.
      "There may be something.........Lois, do you recall when Perry
White's son disrupted Superman's power with red kryptonite?"  Three pairs
of eyes regarded the doctor and scientist expectantly, making him feel very
nervous.  He gave himself a mental shake.  "Then later, when Clark was
grazed by a bullet dipped in green kryptonite, his powers returned to normal."
     "Yes!" Lois interrupted.  "Clark said that you believed the green
cancelled the effects of the red."
     "And vice-versa.  It's a theory I've been researching with Superman's
help.  I asked him not to talk about it because it is still in the
development stage, however the tests we've done in the lab are encouraging.
 I would have to measure the amount of green kryptonite in Clark's blood
then calculate how much red kryptonite would be required to counteract the
other's influence.  But you must understand that this is a very risky
process and there are no guarantees that the treatment will succeed."  At
this juncture he stared round the table to stress his earnestness.
"However, if we do nothing the toxaemia will surely kill him."
     All three agreed simultaneously.  "Then we have no choice," Lois was
the spokesperson,  "and I'm sure Clark would want to take the chance."  She
placed both her hands on the doctor's.  "Please, Dr. Klein, please save him."
     "I'll do my best, Lois.  I just pray that my trial results are more
accurate than the last set."
     Lois looked puzzled.  "Pardon?"
     "Well, I was way off beam when I pronounced that Superman and an Earth
woman were incapable of having babies, but that was one time when I was
glad to be proved wrong."
     That thought brought a smile to everyone's lips and Martha put her
arms around Lois' shoulders for a comforting hug, but the expectant mother
didn't need to be consoled.  The events of the last few days had caused her
to reassess her feelings about the new baby.  As if to acknowledge the
change of heart, Lois felt from deep inside her a flutter of movement,
light as a butterfly's wing.  Lois turned to Martha with a shining smile.
She regarded her baby's first signs of life as an omen of hope.

                                                             **********

     Over the next few days Lois sorely needed the strength gained from
that optimistic portent.  Bernard Klein worked tirelessly to revive his
special patient.  The overstretched doctor spent his time rushing between
his laboratory at Star Labs and the Kent home.  But, although the
proscribed treatment had appeared to halt the invading green venom from
overwhelming Clark's system, the super hero still lay in a twilight world
of semi-consciousness and his healing powers were nonexistent.  He rested
with his back propped up with pillows, an oxygen mask over his mouth to aid
his breathing, as weak as a newborn baby.  Sometimes he was aware of the
loving ministration his family showered on him every hour of the day.
     In order that Clark would never be alone, they had chosen to divide
his care among the three of them.  They split the day into eight-hour
shifts, but Martha and Jonathan were anxious about the state of Lois'
health.  Nursing a sick man who could do nothing for himself was a heavy
and tiring task and the older couple were heedful of Lois' condition.
There was also the lengthening amount of time that Lois felt obliged to
spend with Joel, especially since the baby was beginning to notice his
daddy's absence and was growing fretful.  Yet the indomitable  woman,
ignoring her weary body, insisted on taking her share of tending her
husband and, as Clark appeared to draw comfort from her presence, no one
wished to suggest that perhaps she should take some time off to relax.  The
few times that Clark had been awake, following her movements about the room
with his eyes and clinging to her hand with his own, had been a panacea
enough to sustain her.
      It was during one of Lois' evening shifts when Clark first regained
full consciousness.  An easy chair had been set by the bed for her comfort
and she watched in alarm as her husband grew more agitated.  In Clark's
nightmares, he was still tied to the table in the basement with the
kryptonite drip attached to his arm.  Wrapped in the horror of his dream,
he fought desperately to remove it and was surprised to find his hands
enfolded in a firm but gentle grip and a soft, familiar voice soothed his
troubled soul.
     "Lois?!"  He barely managed to croak.
     His wife eased the oxygen mask aside to help him speak.
     "Yes sweetheart, you're here with me, safe at home, and Dr. Klein is
taking care of you."
     The voice encouraged him to open his eyes, but one eyelid was so
swollen and would not obey.  However, he saw enough to recognise his own
bedroom and there, sitting by the bed, was the person he had feared never
to see again.  He smiled at her and every muscle in his face protested, but
now she was tenderly stroking his cheek and it felt so good.  He tried to
lift his right hand to touch her, only to find his arm was restricted by,
oh no, another tube.
     "What's that?"  And he attempted to nod in the direction of the
apparatus.  The movement brought on a thumping headache but he struggled to
listen to Lois.
     "Don't be afraid, honey.  It's an infusion of red kryptonite and
saline solution.  Bernard believes that the red cancels out the green."
     Clark decided not to nod his head again.  "Is it working?"
     Lois looked worriedly askance, but answered honestly.  "I'm afraid
it's too soon to tell."
     There was silence as Clark digested that information, yet he didn't
feel sufficiently well to comment.  "I'm thirsty," his voice cracked in his
throat.
     A little iced water was poured into an invalid cup and, placing a hand
at the back of his neck, she supported his head as he took a few sips.
This small effort tired him and he slipped back to sleep.  Nevertheless,
Lois was encouraged by the lopsided grin he gave her before his eyes closed.

     Meanwhile, Jonathan Kent had informed the police of his son's return,
but told them that Clark was too ill to be questioned.  The hard-pressed
Inspector Henderson was not prepared to accept this last instruction,
maintaining that, if Kent were so very sick, he would be in an intensive
care unit and not being treated at home.  This opinion was however, smartly
reversed when the detective was escorted into Clark's bedroom for the
compulsory visit.  Henderson's gaze alighted on the breathing equipment and
banks of monitors, all sequestered from Star Labs, but he was mainly
convinced by the sight of the patient reclining in the bed.  After
apologising profusely for his persistence, he left with a request to be
kept informed of Clark's progress.
     The officer was not happy.  The T.V. crew at the scene had been
questioned about their presence at such an opportune moment, but they had
had little to relate, only that the station had received an anonymous tip
that something big was about to happen at the mall and being a slow news
day and thinking 'robbery', they had decided to send a crew out on spec.
     Now, without Clark's input, the trail had gone cold.  Stride and
Kelly, along with all the other suspects in this case, had seemingly
dropped of the face of the planet.

                                                            **********

      The Kent family began to take heart during the next few days as it
appeared that Clark's condition was not deteriorating and, if Dr. Klein's
hypothesis was correct, then in time their beloved's health would be
restored.  No one speculated about the superpowers.  At this precise
moment, no one really cared.  Being Superman had placed Clark's life in
jeopardy too frequently for Lois' comfort.  The way she felt at present,
the guy in the red and blue suit would not be missed.  But Superman was
definitely missed by the media and the public.
     "Where is Superman?"
     The question was on everyone's lips.  Superman had previously been
absent for periods lasting just as long, but when the four members of
Clark's 'team' held a progress meeting, Lois voiced her suspicions.
     "I'm quite sure Diana Stride and her cohorts are behind this constant
media attention.  If they can't kill Clark then I'm certain they intend to
expose him."
     "But they have no proof, Lois," Jonathan added the voice of reason.
"They kidnapped Clark and he escaped.  In the process he landed a few
broken bones and a damaged lung and that's all anyone needs to know."
     Martha and Bernard nodded in agreement, but Lois could see that they
didn't understand the situation.
     "In a court of law you would be right; 'Innocent until proven guilty'.
 But this will be a trial by the media.  They'll present two pieces of
evidence:  Clark is incapacitated and Superman hasn't been seen anywhere in
the world since the day Clark, very publicly, became ill.  Then they'll
simply let conjecture and rumour take over.  And if a voice of reason is
heard, they'll suggest that Clark take a blood test to ascertain what drug
was used to so disable him.  And you can forget about the invasion of
privacy or civil rights, because no-one will be listening."
     "And they would find the kryptonite, which is only dangerous to
Superman," Bernard put in.  "The levels in his blood are falling but they
are still detectable."
     "And if he refuses to take the test then he is assumed guilty because
everyone will think he has something to hide," Lois stated bluntly.
     "Lois is right," the patient in the bed announced in a threadlike
whisper.
     The four were huddled in a group at the far side of the bedroom,
talking quietly and never suspecting that Clark would overhear.  All heads
swung towards him and, seeing he was awake, they hurried to his side.  The
doctor removed the mask from Clark's face in order to hear him more easily.
     "Superman has to put in an appearance."  His voice sounded breathy but
was quite audible.
     "Clark, that's impossible," his mother admonished him.  "You can
scarcely lift your head from the pillows."
     "I know, Mom," he agreed with a small laugh which immediately set of a
paroxysm of coughing.  When, at last, the fit ended and they had made him
more comfortable, he went on.  "The hologram, Mom, couldn't you use the
hologram machine again?"
     It was the way they had defeated Diana Stride years ago, but Martha
seemed doubtful.
     "Oh honey, an appearance at a press conference to make a short
statement, which you controlled, was one thing, but a sighting, where there
might even be interaction by the public, is just not on.  I don't have the
technical capabilities."
     "But I just might," Dr. Klein joined the conversation.  "I still have
Jefferson Cole's 'Hallucinator'."
     Lois grimaced at the memories those words revived.  Professor Cole had
developed a device that had succeeded in making passers-by in the street
believe that Lois was stalking them with a very large handgun and later, a
courtroom full of people swore they had witnessed Perry White give evidence
against Lois when, in actuality, he was being held incommunicado by Cole's
accomplice.  The hallucination-creating machine had been so successful that
the jury had found Lois guilty of murder.  She wasn't sure that she
approved of its return.
      "Wasn't that contraption supposed to have been destroyed?" she
demanded of the doctor.
     "Yes," Bernard shrugged guiltily, "but I just can't bring myself to
destroy a brilliant invention.  Besides, you never know when it might prove
useful."
     "As now, Doc," Clark's ability to hold a conversation was fast fading
and the people round the bed leaned closer to listen.  "Keep it
uncomplicated.  A simple fly past will do."
     "Won't folks be expecting a rescue, sweetheart?" his mother asked,
unconvinced by the machine's serviceability and, like Lois, uneasy about
employing the diabolical device.
     Her husband, however, disagreed.  "I think that Superman showing up
will do the trick.  Dr Klein, if you need a hand to set this up, I'm your
man."
     Lois wasn't totally convinced either, though she did consider that a
Superman sighting would confuse their enemies and then Clark's health was
improving......... slowly.  Perhaps it wouldn't be too long before Superman
was really back.

     Jonathan and Bernard spent the remainder of the day at Star Labs
setting up the equipment for the super hero's return appearance.  They had
chosen evening for the event as that would give them the cover of darkness
to obscure their operations, but there would still be enough people on the
streets to witness the red-caped figure fly across the sky.
     While the men folk were busy with their project, Martha, with a little
help from Clark, persuaded Lois to take a well-earned rest and, as the
situation seemed more hopeful, she gave into the weariness that pervaded
every pore of her being.  Before long she was fast asleep in her son's
room.  She slept so soundly she didn't waken when Martha put Joel into his
crib that night, nor did she hear the two men return from their successful
sortie, happy and excited by what they had accomplished.

                                                            **********

     The next morning Lois rose to the news headlines proclaiming:
                             <Superman's Return>
     The article went on to report that a number of eyewitnesses had
spotted Superman flying above the rooftops of Metropolis, patrolling the
streets as was his custom when resident in the city.
     Lois, feeling refreshed by the first restful night's sleep she had had
in days, prepared to do her utmost in corroborating the Man of Steel's
reappearance.  To that end, she penned a supposed interview given to her by
the hero, when he had visited his injured friend.  She wrote that Superman
regretted he had not been here to help his friends in their hour of need,
but that he had been off attempting to prevent an impending ecological
disaster in the Arctic Circle.  After consulting Clark, she decided to be
somewhat vague about the actual nature of the emergency, leaning slightly
in the direction of an increase in the size of the holes in the ozone
layer.  Due to the volatile nature of the said holes, this information
would be less likely to be questioned.  When she had completed the piece,
she wired it through to Perry and was pleased when it showed up in the
evening edition.
      Lois' optimism was returning.  After his morning examination of the
patient, Dr. Klein had declared himself so satisfied with Clark's progress
that the chest drain had been removed and although the oxygen cylinders
remained by the bed, Clark found he required to use them less frequently.
In fact, he was feeling so much better that he had asked for a very special
visitor.  As requested, Martha brought Joel into his father's room and with
a nod from Lois gently set him on the bed.  The little boy unexpectedly
regarded the man in front of him with solemn eyes and drew back to the
familiar and comforting presence of his grandma.  Lois, sitting on the
opposite side of the bed from Joel, realised that Clark was puzzled by his
baby's reaction.  She encouragingly squeezed her husband's shoulder as he
eased the reluctant infant onto his lap, his eyes filling with tears at the
touch of the sturdy small boy, who appeared to be dismayed by his presence.
     Martha hovered like a mother hen, afraid that the naturally boisterous
baby would inadvertently re-injure her son's healing ribs and lungs.
However, at present her fears were groundless; Joel was unusually subdued.
The baby hardly recognised his normally larger-than-life father in the
still figure on the bed and he stared at the strange man, a guarded
expression in his big brown eyes.  The two women held their breath as
Joel's mistrust of strangers threatened to reduce the infant to tears.
Clark gently tickled his son's tummy, a game they often played, in an
effort to gain a pleased response, but it wasn't until a tentative smile
touched his own face that the child broke into laughter.  Joel would know
that brilliant smile anywhere.  But now, as Joel relaxed and became more
adventurous, crawling excitedly over the bed and investigating the tube
that was stuck to his daddy's arm, it became apparent that Clark was not
yet strong enough to withstand his son's exuberance.  Before the drip was
pulled from Clark's arm by small sticky fingers, Lois plucked her son from
the bed and hugged him, kicking and squealing, to her breast.  Clark
stretched out a trembling hand to touch his son, then slid his hand over
Lois' stomach.  The couple smiled into each others eyes.  They were
together again, a family, all four.
     Martha smiled benignly at the lovely picture they presented and she
brushed aside the tears that fell, but now they were tears of happiness.
Their problems were not yet over, but her prayers had been answered and her
beloved son was safe.

                                                             **********

     Jonathan and Bernard were very busy scuttling around Metropolis,
activating the Hallucinator and feeling extremely pleased with their
results.  Martha thought they were like a couple of overgrown kids with a
new toy and she hoped they hadn't forgotten the seriousness of their
mission; even so, she hadn't the heart to scold.  She knew that their
enthusiasm was prompted by a feeling of vast relief.
     Due to these various sightings the bulk of public opinion was
apparently solidifying behind Superman.  After all, Stride and Kelly could
hardly appear in public to refute the claim that the super hero was back
without incriminating themselves in the Kent abduction.   Besides, the
moment they came out of hiding they would be immediately re-arrested.
Nonetheless, the anonymous influence of Intergang was hard at work.  'The
Dirt Digger' (not the Kents' favourite tabloid) published a small piece
questioning Superman's return.  The paper pointed out that while there had
been a few appearances by everyone's favourite super guy, he had not made
any arrests or rescues, had not actually made any spoken contact with
anyone except Lois Lane.  Lane, it was also noted, was married to Clark
Kent, the very man who had been rumoured, in the past, to be Superman's
alter-ego.
     The ball was back firmly in the hands of the Kent family's opponents
and drastic measures were now required to halt the growing speculation.
Clark suggested he don the suit and hold a press conference at the Planet,
which, with a lot of help from his family, he felt he just might be able to
endure.  But, since the only time he had ventured from his bedroom, he had
ended up in an inglorious heap on the floor, that idea was firmly vetoed by
all.
      His bones were knitting together nicely and he no longer needed help
to breathe, but the green kryptonite had not been neutralised sufficiently
to dispel the chronic exhaustion and weakness that disabled his body.  Dr.
Klein was carefully monitoring Clark's blood to measure the lingering
effects of the poison.  He was somewhat encouraged by the present results
but secretly speculated whether Clark's extra special abilities would ever
return in full.  Certainly the boy was in no condition to venture into the
public eye as Clark Kent or Superman.
     The only answer was the Hallucinator.  It had been powerful enough to
project an image of Perry White to a courtroom and have him cross-examined.
 If Bernard and Jonathan could become as skilled in its use as Cole and his
accomplice, then a short press conference should be possible, especially
one which they controlled.  It would, nevertheless, take a deal of
practising before they could risk their newfound abilities.  The figure
created would have to remain relatively stationery in front of an audience
and answer a number of probing questions.  Lois maintained that this would
not be such a terrifying ordeal, as Metropolis' two most inquiring
reporters would not be present, they being as it were, for the moment, on
the opposing team.
     Be that as it may, neither Bernard nor Jonathan had yet mastered the
voice synthesiser.  So for the next twenty-four hours the two older men
drove off into the countryside to practise their new craft, while at home
Clark and his women folk plotted the strategy for the coming showdown with
the press.  Lois had never envisioned in her whole life a time when she
would regard the media business as a 'damned nuisance'.
     After a great deal of discussion and a fair amount of arguing, it was
decided that sticking close to home would be advantageous, but Lois simply
refused to have a pack of unruly newspersons in her house.  The fact that
she was normally a member of the pack did not dissuade her, indeed it only
strengthened her resolve.  A compromise was reached when Martha proposed
that they hold the interview on the steps leading up to the front door,
that way 'Superman' could float above the crowd, well out of touching
distance, a very important point as the figure was only a mirage and had no
substance.  This would also serve another purpose as Clark was sure that
someone in the pack was bound to suggest that Kent had now recovered and
was now masquerading in his other guise and of course, Clark Kent would not
be amongst the group of fellow reporters.
     "Then, while Superman entertains the rest of the hounds, I'll invite
say two of them.......no, three would be best, and they can visit with the
poor invalid," Lois stroked Clark's hand consolingly, beginning to warm to
the ruse.  She was invigorated at the thought of putting one over on her
rivals, especially those she disliked and distrusted, those she considered
had no right to the title of journalist.  Clark had a good idea which
reporters would be invited to attend his sick bed.  He watched in
trepidation, a wicked grin dawning on his wife's face as she made up her
visitor list.
     "Yes! Yes!  This is really good.  We can discredit the tabloid press,
the ones that are always attacking Superman, and we can finally lay to rest
these old suspicions that Diana Stride began."
     "Lois, honey," Clark put up his hand to halt her in mid-tirade.  While
he sympathised with her emotions, even partially agreed with them, this was
not the main agenda.  "Honey, this is not a vendetta.  It's just a ploy to
protect our privacy and a pretty risky one at that.  I think we should keep
it as simple and succinct as possible."
     "I agree with Clark," Martha backed up her son.  "Superman should fly
down say hello, answer a few questions perhaps, then you invite a few of
your colleagues in to say hi, how are you to Clark.  Then wrap the whole
thing up........ quickly.  There's more chance of something going wrong if
it should last too long."
     Lois looked a little disappointed.  "I know.  But you're both wrong
about one thing.  This is war and Stride and her allies began it."
      "You're right about that, sweetheart," Clark patted the bed, inviting
Lois to sit by his side.  When she settled beside him, he stretched his
hand up to tenderly touch her cheek, a loving gesture he often used with
his wife.  "And when I'm well and my superpowers are back, I have every
intention of finding them and making sure that they never trouble us again."
     Martha and Lois exchanged an apprehensive glance.  The thought of
Clark facing these dangerous women for a second bout did not fill them with
exhilaration.

                                                            **********

     An assumption of war was certainly one with which all three female
criminals concurred, but Clark's escape had affected each woman
differently.  Gretchen still maintained that the man was dying of blood
poisoning.  The Daily Planet had carried  the story of how Kent had escaped
from his captors, and how he had been seriously injured during his
captivity, having been administered some, as yet unknown, substance which
was having dire effects on his health.  Also the frequent calls at 348
Hyperion Avenue of the physician from Star Labs and the serious demeanour
of his friends when they left the house after brief visits reinforced her
assertion.  Thus the impending death (as she thought) of the man she hated
gave her a feeling of gratification.
     This was not an emotion shared by her ex-cellmate.  Diana was livid.
Superman had destroyed her exciting and luxurious life style and left her
languishing in a prison cell amongst a class of people she considered unfit
to kiss her beautifully manicured fingers.  Nothing, short of witnessing
his humiliation and excruciatingly painful death throes, would soothe her
harrowed soul.  Her hold on reality grew more tenuous with each passing
day.  She remained unconvinced by Mindy Church's assurance that the loss of
their hostage was a small, easily  surmountable problem in their grand
scheme, and that Superman's death and dishonour were still inevitable.
     Actually, Mindy Church was significantly annoyed; the fate of her two
henchmen whose carelessness had led to Clark slipping his bonds, had
attested to the depth of her frustration.  The thugs were now buried deep
in the vast open spaces of the 'Church Group's' reclamation site on the
north side of Hobbs Bay.  This land project was a huge and imaginative
enterprise, much appreciated by the citizens and City Fathers of
Metropolis.  Any venture which attempted to spruce up the sight and
reputation of that particularly seedy area of the city was welcome.  The
fact that it enabled Intergang (the Church Group's less respectable
counterpart) to dispose of any unwanted baggage was not comprehended by the
grateful citizens.
     Mindy's ability to suffer reverses enabled her to rise above her anger
and to rethink her strategy.  The constant media attention given to the
question of Superman was evidence of her persistence.  Although the fact
that she would no longer witness his downfall firsthand was less personally
satisfying, being rid of his constant moral interference was the more
important result for the continued successful operation of Intergang.  If
his death was not imminent, and she was not so sure of this as was
Gretchen, exposing Superman to the population as Clark Kent would create a
mistrust in the hearts and minds of his adoring public.  Questions would be
asked about why the hero had felt it necessary to lie to a world that had
rarely shown him anything other than warm friendship and a sincere
collective wish for his continued well-being.
     Hopefully the loss of trust and help of the people would disrupt his
crusade against the criminal element of the city, both as Superman and
Clark Kent, investigative reporter.  The fact that his family would now be
exposed to any miscreant willing to hold them hostage might also make him
less likely to interfere.
      To achieve this desired result, she had begun her covert actions and
now all Metropolis was humming with speculation.  She had been quite
satisfied with progress until Superman was reported to have been seen here
in the city.  Of course, she rationalised that this could not be the true
Man of Steel, so she set about unveiling the mystery behind the sightings.
Her best operatives were employed on the constant surveillance of the Kent
home and family.  She was now aware of the bustling activities of Jonathan
and the doctor.  Wherever they drove, in a nondescript grey van whose only
distinguishing features were the strange radio antenna on its roof,
Superman appeared in the sky.  It didn't take a scientist to make the
connection.  Jonathan Kent was a small time farmer from hicksville but his
colleague was a highly respected researcher who had access to all the
technical wizardry belonging to Star Labs.  Somewhere in Klein's
professional past there had to be a record of  a device which could create
such an image.  Although even her most accomplished hacker had been unable
to access the doctor's personal computer, it had not taken her staff much
time to unearth the report on the Hallucinator and the fact that, against
instructions, Klein had locked the contraption away instead of destroying it.
     This was very pleasing information and Mindy was delighted at the
thought of spoiling the Kents' little games.  Even Diana brightened at the
prospect.  Ideally, the throwing of the proverbial spanner into the works,
should be done in public with as large an audience as possible.  When it
was first reported that Superman was planning a press conference, the women
were over-the-moon and set to making their own plans with great enthusiasm.

                                                               **********

     After a day of intense rehearsals, using a script prepared by Lois and
Clark of the questions the reporters had considered were most likely to be
asked, the two conspirators felt confident in their ability to hold the
said conference.  Dr. Klein had entered tapes of Superman's voice into the
vocal synthesiser and had watched in appreciation as the computer had
analysed the sounds and within an amazingly short period had reproduced the
voice.  It was still, however, a highly hazardous undertaking, but as time
was of the essence they felt that any further delay would only increase the
stress they were experiencing.  So it was that next evening at 7:00 p.m.,
an invited crowd of media personnel gathered outside the Kents' residence,
awaiting the arrival of the people's champion.
     Jonathan and Bernard had left an hour previously to park the van in an
alley across the street and prepare the eq