The Vengeance Factor

The Vengeance FactorA Novel Based on the Hit TV Series Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman and the Characters Appearing in DC Comics Magazines

By Joe LovettFOREWORD

This book is a work of love. I love comics, I love the characters appearing in the Superman comics, and I love the TV series, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. Unfortunately, ABC canceled the series, but the syndicated reruns are featured on TNT. I am very resistant to change, but I must admit that the cast and crew of Lois & Clark won my heart.

This show was the single best adaptation of a comic book character to TV, radio, or movies. Everything was perfect. It was the Superman of the 90s, a fresh approach to an old friend. So, when you read this book, I feel that you will do as I do: hear the voices and see the faces of Dean Cain, Teri Hatcher, Lane Smith, Justin Whalin, Michael Landes (Jimmy in the first season), Tracey Scoggins, and the rest of the cast.

I would like to thank several for the writing of this book. First, Id like to thank the creators of Superman, Jerry Siegel and Joseph Shuster, without whose imagination all those years ago, wed never have known ol Big Blue.

Secondly, Id like to thank Deborah Joy Levine, and the rest of her crew, for bringing the best representation of a beloved comic character to life on the small screen. I really loved the show.

Next, Id like to thank my family: my wife, Annette, and my three children, Christopher, Leticia, and Ana. They are the bright spots in my life, and urged me to keep writing.

In this book, I try to capture the magic of the characters as represented on the TV show, as well as the chemistry that exists in the comics. It may be a bit grittier than the TV show, but the characters are based on the TV interpretation.

Thank you for reading his book. I hope you will enjoy it, and never stop daring to dream. Read on!

Joe Lovett

Jackson, Tennessee

September 12, 1997-

Prologue

It is very cold in space. Space is unforgiving, a lifeless void wrapped around billions of planets, systems and stars, many teeming with life. However, these thoughts, these things are not what kept the fire burning within the thing floating in space going. Instead, it was the heat of anger, hatred, and thoughts of revenge that fueled Hank Henshaws desire to keep living.

Encased in a cube of force, floating through space in a wide elliptical orbit outside Earths solar system, the thing that was once United States astronaut and scientist Hank Henshaw seethed, feeding on its own hate. Its every erg of force was dedicated to remembering and planning revenge. The thing that was formerly Hank Henshaw knew no boundaries to its limits where its hatred was concerned.

Unable to break the cube apart and escape, due to the damned power dampener wired into his circuits, his robotic parts generated just enough power to keep his organic parts alive. That electrically assisted life was determined and dedicated to destroying that which had put it in this place, in this predicament.

The once human monster stared, one eye blinking, one eye cold and electronic, out at the marvels of space, marvels any human would love to see and could only dream of. Its eyes drifted towards the distant yellow light of Sol, the sun and its hatred surged once again. It stared down at its hands, one organic, one purely mechanical, and a new wave of hatred swept over it as it remembered. Remembered how it had came to be this way.

It had been several years ago, during the late 80s and early 90s, when Hank Henshaw had been human. A scientist, and an astronaut, he had been chosen for a flight in the Space Shuttle. This was a dream of many astronauts, but the Space Program wasnt what it had been in the 60s and early 70s. Much had died down and NASA wasnt as free to venture out into space as it had been before. It was a routine mission, to obtain data from space and the moon, for future use to build a colony on the moon.

The mission launched without trouble and all had proceeded according to plan and schedule throughout most of it. At the last leg of the trip, things changed. Something had gone wrong. The space shuttle failed, threatening to plunge back into Earths atmosphere. Hank Henshaw, and his two companions, feared for their lives. They informed Mission Control of the danger, and of the imminent crash with a vessel or object of unknown origin, in a decaying orbit around the Earth.

The news that returned had set them all to breathing easier in their tiny compartment so many miles above Earths surface. Mission Control said that Superman would be there to save them, that he was on his way. The crew of the shuttle calmed considerably, for they knew rescue was now certain, with Superman on the way. That was when the object collided with the shuttle.

The object was an alien probe, a Kryptonian probe Henshaw would soon discover, launched from the far away planet Krypton a hundred years before. It was piloted by a crude construct, too advanced to be a robot, but not advanced enough to be an android. The probes now super hard metal shell tore through the side of the shuttle as if it were rice paper, rending the shuttle a piece of floating garbage in mere seconds.

The others, Henshaws friend, and his wife, were killed instantly. Henshaw, hanging on to the thread of life, literally blown to pieces by a combination of igniting gases and the explosive decompression of the shuttle cabin, was rapidly dying as his life, his blood, floated in the absence of gravity within the ruins of the shuttle.

As he died, his one remaining eye saw the approach of a damaged metal being coming for him. Its shape was vaguely humanoid, and odd, definitely designed by creatures other than man. Before the construct made it to him, Hank Henshaw ceased to exist, dying a horrible death, floating about the shuttle in several pieces. His life had ended in pain, fear, and a terrible sense of wrongness.

An uncertain amount of time later, Hank Henshaw regained consciousness, back from the dead, with new knowledge. He knew things that he could never have imagined before. He knew facts about planets, and systems, far away from Earth. He knew about numerous life forms, their habits and territories, about animals mankind had never imagined, and other scientific data of incredible magnitude. Glancing into the remains of a viewport at his reflection, he saw that the construct had repaired both itself and him. It had fused the parts of the two together to form a new being. The Cyborg. Both the pitiful remains of Hank Henshaw, human, and of the Kryptonian construct.

Most of the knowledge the construct had possessed was gone: half of its head was missing, replaced by the remaining half of Henshaws head and brain. While what remained was incredible, and Hank had access to it all, the vast majority of it had been lost. The rational human being that had been Henshaw was gone, as well. Now, only a part man-part machine thing remained, a hellish merger of the organic and the inorganic. Thats when it heard the noise.

By this time, the shuttle had entered the Earths atmosphere, and the ship was brought to the ground by a power not belonging to the damaged ship. The ship, to what had been Hanks perception, made a gentle descent, if rapid, to the ground and was set upon the ground with great care. After being set on the ground, the hatch was ripped from its housing, revealing the face of Superman, eyes haunted as he surveyed the wreckage of the ship.

Superman, the one responsible for all this. Superman, who with his great powers could have saved them all, had he not dallied about before coming after them. Superman, whose face was burned into the visual receptors of its amalgamated brain. Superman, whose names very mention would have brought a torrent of bile to his throat, had he a stomach left to produce it. Superman, his focus of being, his center of hate.

He, or it, had attacked the tall, muscular Kryptonian dressed in the blue tights, red boots, and red cape with all the strength it possessed in its strange fusion of being. After a long battle, Superman had won, sending it back into space for the first time of two. During that first exile, the Cyborg had learned quite a bit about itself, and its capabilities.

Upon coming out of its reverie, the thing that was once Henshaw, the Cyborg, noticed an unusual movement in the deep reaches of space, coming its way. Due to the absence of yellow solar energy, the Cyborg was limited to the mechanical capabilities of its mechanical eye, which were considerable by Earth standards.

As his cold, inorganic eye zoomed in on the object, he could see it was roughly man sized, incredibly fast, red and blue, and headed his way. Calculations for revenge began crackling their way through his mechanical and organic brain.

The yellow star Sol was visible in the viewport, steadily growing larger as the ship approached the Earths solar system. The ships sole occupant clasped its shiny, chrome, metallic hands behind its back, and an impulse, very similar to the human feeling of anticipation, sparked its way up and down the metal beings neural net.

FINALLY, it thought. I WILL RESUME MY MISSION, AND DESTROY THAT ORGANIC IMBECILE SUPERMAN IN THE PROCESS. The cold, mechanical voice was even that in its electronic brain.

A smaller, weaker, voice in its mind spoke up, No killing! Complete your mission, but no killing! Superman is not to be toyed with! The personality that had once been stage mentalist Milton Fine tried to wrest at least some control from the cold computer mind and the evil, malicious mind with which it shared a brain and body.

The other inhabitant, the personality of a being from a planet named Colu, an evil power hungry entity named Vril Dox responded, [Fine, you weakling! Shut up your simpering and let us do what we came to do!] Dox, the final third to this devilish mind, hated its human parts fears, and reticence to do what it reasoned must be done.

ENOUGH! interceded the automaton. I WILL FULFILL MY MISSION AT ALL COSTS, EVEN IF I MUST PURGE THE HUMAN COMPONENT TO DO SO! THE LOSS OF MY/OUR METAL POWERS WOULD BE ACCEPTABLE IN THIS CASE! Dox calmly silenced his thought patterns, backing off the weakling human personality of Milton Fine. Dox knew he/they needed Fines mentalist abilities of illusion, telekinesis, his mind blast, and mental blast to operate at maximum efficiency. His and Fines union with this mechanical construct from his own home world was the best way to do as was necessary.

Milton Fine had been a stage mentalist, a sort of psychic, performing for idiots when the mind of Vril Dox, called Brainiac on his home world of Colu, found him. The latent powers of Fines mind had touched Doxs incredibly developed cerebrum across many light years.

Through means of Doxs own devising, he sent his consciousness forth to Earth, and possessed Milton Fine. Together, they performed many crimes, attracting the attention of Superman. Fighting Superman, combined with the struggle against Fine for dominance of Fines body, led to Doxs retreat back to his own body, light years away.

Then, Dox and several of the renegade members of Colus ruling body, the computer council, constructed an android to carry out a mission of evil: target worlds for conquering, shrink a city on each targeted world, and bring it back to Colu, to be tested in its level of resistance. Dox then joined his consciousness with the automaton while his body was kept and cared for by citizens of Colus medical society.

Coming to Earth in this form, Dox sought out and found Fine, stealing his consciousness for its formidable mental powers. Fines body, however, died, leaving Fine stranded within the mechanical being of which he now comprised one third.

The ship that housed this unique blend of entities cloaked itself from the surveillance systems in place around the third planet from the star, and slipped into its atmosphere.

The mechanical hands controlling the ship guided it towards the continent of North Americas East Coast. When it had reached the huge city of Metropolis, it reduced altitude, and concealed itself in an abandoned dockside warehouse on the south side of the city.

After the ship was securely hidden, the metal being began making preparations for its newest acquisition, the city of Metropolis itself.

That feeling of anticipation racing along its neural net, the conglomerate being called Brainiac activated its flight jets, and ascended into the clear blue sky over the unsuspecting city, waiting for its nemesis to appear.

In Nevada, in a desert far, far away from any sign of civilization, the sound of winds across the dunes was broken by a rumbling from deep within the Earth. The few animals that could survive out in the desolate wasteland of sand scurried about for their lives as the ground trembled and shook.

A great ripping could be heard as cacti, desert flower plants, and rocks moved about like ships on the choppy sea. The ground was splitting apart, the tectonic plates beneath the surface shifting position as the earthquake raged on.

One hundred yards beneath the surface, deep within the ground, a titanium bunker bounced, trembled, and shook with the quake raging about it. Inside, the two occupants were thrown about like rag dolls as the force of nature pummeled the chamber relentlessly.

One of the occupants, a tall metal being made of titanium, scrambled for purchase on a hanging girder as the chamber bucked beneath it. Its mechanical grip failing, it was slammed against the wall, crushed by a falling girder, grinding it into useless junk. Its glowing insides, which housed bio-energy, crashed to the floor of the chamber, shattering the casings. The bright yellow glow faded quickly as the ruined units scattered across the floor like leaves in a hurricane.

Damn! exclaimed the other occupant in a voice torn with fear and rage. As the head of the metal man rolled to his feet, Rudy Jones stared into its glassy photoreceptors, its eyes, and screamed in rage. His purple, bald, ravaged visage was clearly visible in the faceplate of the android.

With the robot out of commission, he could feel his strength ebbing fast. The android had furnished him with just enough bio-energy to keep him alive. Now, with his only source of sustenance gone, he would have to find someone quick, or die like a rat in a trap in this infernal prison bunker.

Just then, the chamber heaved mightily once again, and the wall before Rudy Jones, now the scarred, ravaged, purple-skinned being called the Parasite, split wide open. Surprisingly enough, instead of a fountain of dirt and soil, hot, yellow, bright sunlight streamed in through the cracked shell. Then, the rumbling stopped. The earthquake was over, just like that, as suddenly as it had started.

Breathing heavily, the horrible being climbed up towards the light, struggling against heavy earth to climb out the split. Once his head was through, he saw that the earthquake had forced the deep buried chamber to the surface, and had cracked it open like a walnut. This was too good to be true.

Enjoying the feel of the hot sunlight on his skin for the first time in two years, due to his incarceration by that damned Superman, he threw his head back and laughed. He had to find a way back to Metropolis, so he could find that overgrown Boy Scout, and kill him as he deserved to die, a dried up husk, a dead shell with nothing left inside at all but space.

Jones knew that he couldnt contain all of Supermans awesome energies at once, though, and he knew that he would recharge long before Jones could stand to siphon off more from him. Somehow, he would find a way to contain all of that losers power, and when he did, look out world! The Parasite wouldnt ever have to recharge again, not ever! Superman would be the Energizer, the Duracell, the Ever-Ready batteries his body needed to stay alive forever!

Looking down, he saw a snake. Oh, well, he thought. Not much more than an hordeurve! But first things first! He was going to go for the gold, but he had to sustain himself long enough to get there. Concentrating, he began siphoning off the snakes life force. All too soon, it was over, but the flush of energy he got from it was enough to revitalize him long enough to walk quite a ways towards the nearest city.

In a chamber hidden deep under the ice near the North Pole, a shadowy figure stirred after a long period of inactivity. The chamber, just one in a series of many that had been built by means of unearthly origin, was at the deepest recesses of the structure.

The figure emerged from the chamber, which was filled with alien machinery, leaving behind its cocoon-shaped shell. It cast its eyes upward, drinking in the sights of this veritable fortress that it had itself carved out of the large mountain, seeing sights that it had not seen in over two years.

The chambers were filled with alien technology, trophies of a world long dead, and memorabilia from the Kryptonian named Kal-Els exploits here on Earth as the colorfully garbed Superman. The figure paused in front of a shiny pillar, which was polished to a mirror-smooth finish.

The figure regarded its appearance with cool interest. He was tall, muscular, dark haired, and dark eyed. He bore a passing resemblance to Superman. He was dressed in a black, skin-tight suit, over which was a red frock, which was belted around the waist, with a yellow strip with black designs running down the right side of it.

His powers were returning, he felt. Still not up to normal, but very powerful by any standards. That would change once he was exposed to the sun again. First, however, he must attend to business.

Walking to a huge computer bank, lined with monitors, he activated the dormant machinery. As he punched in commands, a sentry robot approached him, its metallic skin gleaming in the half-light. Unauthorized access to computers. State your identification code, commanded the robot in an electronic voice.

The man smiled, and said, Eradicator, El 10927-011-99. The figure waited for the sentrys response, still punching in commands on the keyboard.

Access approved, responded the sentry. Good day. The sentry resumed its post near the computer terminal.

The being called the Eradicator smiled slightly at the sentrys ready compliance with his orders. So, Kal-El has not changed the access codes to the Fortress after all, thought the Eradicator. Perhaps he does not expect me to awaken. Or perhaps he simply wants nothing to do with this place.

It would seem reasonable. Since the beginning of the Eradicators attempt to educate Kal-El in the ways of Krypton, which he had steadfastly refused to suscept himself to and had voiced his objections to the place, it was therefore logical he stay away from the Fortress. This suited the Eradicator just fine. It would make it much easier for him to repair the defective Kryptonians mind.

Scant seconds later, the Kryptonians heat signature was located, inside a building the Earthmen called the Daily Planet, in the city of Metropolis. This would make it harder for him to convince Kal-El to return with him to the Fortress, since there would probably be a battle, which would endanger some of the Earth peoples lives. Experience had taught him that Kal-El regarded these beings highly, and would fight any opposition that threatened them with the fiercest force he could muster.

Noticing the display of the Earthman, or more precisely, Earth womans heat signature near him, the Eradicator began formulating a plan to lure Kal-El back here without endangering any of his beloved Terrans.

Her eyes, dark brown, followed the form of a tall, dark haired man with glasses as he progressed to the desk next to hers. The Armani suit he wore only marginally disguised his muscular frame. His dark brown eyes sought out hers as he sat at the desk. He smiled as he proffered the white bag he held in his left hand. Croissant? he asked, as the delicious smell wafted from the fresh baked bread in the bag to her nose.

Smiling, Lois Lane reached inside and grabbed one of the delightful treats. As she bit into it, she exclaimed, Mmmmm! Where did you get these? Theyre great! The bread was freshly baked, and couldnt be more than five minutes out of the oven.

Paris, of course, he whispered. I just came back from a meeting with the French President, and an exclusive interview. He smiled as she ate, fingering his tie thoughtfully.

Clark, honey, she began, wiping her mouth with a napkin. I cant believe its been almost a year since we got married She was still amazed at the abilities her husband, Clark Kent, possessed. How many other women had a husband who could fly for free, on his own power? Or bend steel girders as if they were silly putty?

Clark Kent, her husband, her partner, her best friend, smiled as he took her hands in his. Lois, I cant believe it, either. But, despite all that tried to keep us apart, we keep coming out on top. He bent his lips to her hands, kissing each of them gently.

Lost in his eyes, her mind sifted through many memories, many of which were those that came before she knew. Before she knew that her husband, who was then only her partner, was not as mild mannered as he put on. Before she knew that the two men she was secretly in love with, Clark Kent and Superman, were the same man.

Looking back, it had seemed rather silly, that a mere pair of glasses shielded the mightiest man on Earths identity from the world. But, it was actually more than that. Clarks mannerisms, the way he carried himself, the way he stood, were all very different when he wore the bright red, blue, and yellow suit. It was almost as though he were someone else.

On the other hand, however, Clark was very much like Superman in a lot of ways. His deep compassion for people, animals, truth, justice, fairnesshe was a regular boy scout. She couldnt have found a better match if she had molded a clay model, magically filled it with her ideals for the perfect man, and breathed life into it.

Chapter 1

James Bartholomew Olsen, or Jimmy to his friends, brushed his hand through his sandy brown hair, and headed for his best friends, Clark Kent and Lois Lane. It was still early, and Perry White, the boss, was waiting on their story. Smiling, he approached them, as Clark kissed Loiss hands. Jimmy cleared his throat, leaning against a partition, his muscular arm folded behind his head.

Clark and Lois both whirled towards him, clearly startled. Whats up, Jimmy? asked Lois, smiling back at the twenty-three year old young man.

Jimmy said, The Chiefs not in a good mood this morning, so I thought Id give you a head start on getting him your story for the morning edition. His eyes darted towards the windows of Perrys office, checking to see if he was on his way out here.

Thanks, Jimmy. Weve got it ready, Clark replied, moving towards his seat and his computer. He could hear Perrys hand turning the knob on his office door, surely heading towards their desks.

Lois, Clark, where the hell is that story? We go to press in seven minutes! Perry White, his Southern drawl in full force as it usually was when he was angry or upset, approached the group of friends. His expression softened as he realized just how bad he sounded. Look, guys, I dont mean to sound like a hound dog with his tail in a bear trap, but weve gotta print.

At that, the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet turned and headed back for his office door. Jimmy waited until his boss was back in his office before letting out a breath. Whew! he exclaimed. Boy, Perry sure is rough when him and Alice arent getting along.

The bosss Southern speech patterns were beginning to rub off on the young man, thought Clark as he began typing.

Glancing up, he noticed that Lois had finally lured Jimmy away from his desk, so he could begin really typing. His fingers flew over the keyboard, causing it to smoke slightly, as his super speed kicked in like a wild forest fire. He finished the story, and sent it to the printer at the end of the row of cubicles.

He walked over to the printer, where Jimmy and Lois were conversing, drinking a cup of coffee. The printer hummed to life as he approached it. Lois smiled at her husband with a knowing smile, knowing that hed just composed, typed, and printed their entire story in scant seconds.

Hey, CK, what are you guys doing this Friday? asked Jimmy. He had a smile on his face. His gaze kept traveling back and forth between the two older reporters, and he seemed about to burst, which, for Jimmy, was nothing new.

With a languid smile, Lois chimed in, My sister, Lucy, will be in town for a few days, and Jimmy wants to know if we want to double date with them. Her smile was serene, or in other words, unreadable. Clark thought he might as well try reading ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.

Clark thought a second, his mind seeming to race through possibilities, then replied, Sure, why not? What do you have in mind, Jimmy? He, like Lois, liked the young man genuinely, and thought of him as a friend, and more. Almost like a little brother in many ways.

Jimmys smile broadened as he replied, Well, how does dinner, then the Jimmy Page/Robert Plant concert sound? And afterwards, maybe a bit of bowling? His excitement was evident. Most people their age seemed to regard him as though he were a child, and truth be told, neither he nor Lois was truthfully that much older than the young newsman.

Clark looked at Lois, seeing only bemusement on her face. With a chuckle, he realized he wasnt getting any help on this one, to say the least. Nothing new there, he thought wryly. He shrugged. Sure, why not? Sounds great. He smiled at his young friend.

Great! exclaimed Jimmy, as he ran back towards the Chiefs office. See you guys later! I gotta catch up! He began grabbing papers and other assorted objects, his attention fully on his work now, obviously in an almost manic mood knowing that everything seemed to be going right in his little corner of the world.

Well, you handled that well, said Lois, watching Perry exit his office, looking for their story. Though most would have thought her words were sarcastic, those that knew her well, of which there were admittedly few, knew the sincerity behind them. She rubbed Clarks arm, and nodded towards Perry. You better take the ol hound dog his bone before he gets nasty.

My thoughts exactly, replied Clark, collecting the sheets of text from the printer. He turned just in time to almost run over Perrys outstretched hand. He deposited them into Perrys waiting hand with an almost mischievous smile, mixed with the innocence of a baby sparkling in his eyes.

Boy, whats with you two today? asked Perry as he perused their story. His eyes moved quickly over the printed sheets, long years of practice enabling him to thoroughly read a story completely on the fly while talking the entire time. Getting a story out of you two is like pullin hen teeth. He walked towards the nearest copy boy, intent on sending the story down to the pressroom. Behind him, Lois and Clark just smiled.

By the way, boys and girls, said Perry after giving their story to Ed Hines, a copy boy in the office, and turning back to face his two star reporters. Word is that STAR Labs and NASA both have their eye on a couple of objects entering the solar system. They say they dont look too friendly. Why dont yall take a run over there and see what gives? That was the Chiefs nice little way of giving them their next assignment. He scowled, and shook a large finger at both of them. And dont call me Chief!

Will do, Chief! replied both Lois and Clark with mischief in their eyes as they headed for the elevator, and to the streets below. Each of them was already scrunching up their shoulders at the expected explosion.

Great shades of Elvis! exclaimed Perry in exasperation, shaking his fists at the ceiling. Why in Gods name do they have to do that? He scowled again, his gaze moving around the newsroom, especially at Jimmy, who was grinning to beat the band. Dont any of you have jobs to do around herebesides call me Chief?

As the two reporters exited the Daily Planet building, and pushed into the throng of people walking up and down the streets of the great city, Clark surreptitiously regarded his wife as they headed towards their Jeep. He was laughing softly and glanced back at the building, speaking quietly to his wife, You know hes going to kill us one of these days if we keep doing that.

Yeah, but thats the fun of the whole thing, she replied in an almost monotone, her concentration occupied already. Lois seemed just a bit tense, but that was nothing unusual when they were on a story, a potentially big story. Something from space tended to be some kind of half-baked plot by some wannabe world ruler, or someone out to put a notch in his laser gun by fighting Superman lately. It very rarely was anything just scientific in nature.

Maybe this was another alien invasion, although hopefully not one perpetrated by any of his people this time, meaning Kryptonians. After all, he figured that with himself, his cousin Kara, and his Fortress of Solitude (weird calling it his), there was enough Kryptonian culture on Earth for now.

Then again, he also felt it would be safer if it was Kryptonians from the little planet now called New Krypton. Other space faring races tended to be bent on conquest when it came to Earth. There had been numerous attempts by any number of aliens to take hostile action against Earth in the past four years or so.

Lois looked up at him as they settled into their seats in the Jeep, and asked, Well, what do you think it is this time? Another Kryptonian nut like Lord Nor out for world domination, an alien invasion force, or maybe just God on a holiday? Her rather sarcastic wit was indicative of the tenseness she felt. Her hands fidgeted on the wheel as she began backing out of the parking place and putting the Jeep in gear, pulled out into traffic.

Lois, began Clark, his eyes scanning Lois face intently. You worry too much. It may just be a simple case of meteorites, or comets, headed towards the sun. He smiled at his wife, admiring her dark brown eyes as they gazed at him with expectancy. No matter what was happening, he could always take the time to simply gaze at Lois and think how lucky he was.

Lois, however, wasnt so easily derailed. Her mouth tightened in that way that indicated she was dead serious in her conviction and nothing short of an atom bomb was going to dislodge her from her course. Since when is anything simple with us? Do I need to begin citing examples? She could have been referring to any number of challenges they had met, and beaten, over the years. However, he felt she was referring to all the trouble surrounding their wedding plans, which was a considerable amount, even for Superman.

Between all the trouble with the clones, Loiss induced amnesia, and a horde of other disasters, their marriage almost didnt happen. However, the young couple persevered, emerging triumphant against impossible odds. That was what they did, they triumphed, and he took pride and heart in that fact, and usually, Lois shared that attitude, except for moments like this.

No, Honey, of course not, replied Clark, his lips curled back in a smile. Its just that with all the trouble weve had, it is possible that this is nothing more than a scientific discovery. Reaching over, he patted her shoulder, his hand warm on her body as she maneuvered through the crowded city streets. Such things do happen, you know.

Lois regarded him with a cool expression. Her reporters instinct was in high gear at the moment, and it was one of the things Clark admired most about her. It was also one of the things that drove him absolutely crazy at times, but he had to admit, its what made her the award winning reporter, one of the youngest reporters to ever win a Pulitzer, she was. You really believe that. It was not exactly a question. Her recriminating gaze scathed over him with the intensity of a laser. You really and truly think that it is nothing.

Wellmaybe it is something, stammered Clark as he looked out the windshield at the road as Lois drove through the busy streets of Metropolis. But, it could just as easily be nothing. He didnt want to admit to the apprehension he was feeling about this sudden appearance of two objects in space heading towards his home. Then again, Lois knew him well, better than anyone did, and he kept waiting for her to realize his true anxiety and call him on it.

If you want to believe that, Clark, you go ahead. Lois stubbornly held her belief that the world was under some kind of secret attack, or something. Once more, lockjaw came into play and she refused to budge. He knew that look and sound well. I, however, refuse to be caught with my pants down. I want to be ready for anything.

Just as he was about to comment on her allusion to being caught with her pants down, his super hearing kicked in. He heard the sounds of an alarm going off back towards the center of town, a bank. He narrowed his eyes and started looking around, trying to keep his motions a secret out of habit, but also because he didnt want to alarm Lois.

Noticing his sudden interest in the ceiling of the Jeep, which usually meant he was listening to something far off, she asked, What is it? What do you hear? She knew that it was time for Superman to spring into action. There was no mistaking the look.

A bank alarm, he responded, removing his tie, sliding out of his jacket and shirt quickly, revealing the brightly colored costume underneath. Be back soon! he exclaimed as he kissed her, and then rushed out of the car at super speed.

Watching her husband speed off as a red and blue blur, she shook her head resignedly and sighed, Well, theres another front pager for us. Wonder what the headlines gonna be this time? Superman takes time from busy schedule to foil bank robbery and sit in on Mrs. Mullins knitting class! Can I stand the excitement? She pushed the accelerator in exasperation and continued on her way to STAR Labs.

* * * * *

Superman landed in front of the First Federal Savings & Loan bank, to find three men, faces covered with ski masks, coming out of the bank. Crossing his arms over his chest, Superman called, Hello, gentlemen. I believe that Id put those back before the police arrive, if I were you. He tilted his head to indicate the bags of money they each carried.

The thieves all paused immediately at the sound of the voice. Two of the would-be thieves dropped their weapons and money, while the one in the middle fired his gun at the Man of Steel repeatedly, cursing the entire time. Sirens blew loudly as several police cruisers arrived on the scene, mingling with the ricochet sounds of bullets bouncing harmlessly off Supermans chest.

Superman merely smiled as the gunman clicked his empty weapon before throwing it down. The man on his right said, Sheesh, Louis, we told you about Superman! No bullets are gonna stop him! He was animatedly shaking his head and looking somewhat apologetically in Supermans way as the police converged on them.

Louis, disgust evident in his voice, took his mask off as the police approached him, and replied, Damn! This place is as bad as Gotham! Costumed do-gooders everywhere you turn! Grumbling, he held out his wrists for the police to slip the cuffs onto them, still muttering about how bad things were for crime everywhere.

Superman smiled as he lifted two of the hoods into the air, shook them until another couple of revolvers fell from their pockets, then turned to the officer approaching them. I believe these belong to you, now. The other hood was already putting his hands on his head, his backup weapon lying on the ground next to his partners.

The cops thanked Superman, and then he flew back to an alley near STAR Labs, changed clothes, and then entered the building, flashing his ID to the guards on duty at the front door.

Dr. Klein was saying to Lois, and these objects are both rather small, only roughly man-sized. He pointed to two blips on the screen, both very near to the other. He took another sip of what appeared to be hot chocolate, and then moved to another of the huge scientific devices in the lab.

Lois was frantically scribbling notes in her pad, looking up at the screen, as though trying to discern exactly what the nature of the blips were as Clark entered. Nodding at him as he shook Dr. Kleins hand, she asked, Man-sized, huh? What exactly does that leave room for, Dr. Klein? Her innate curiosity was getting to her as she listened.

Hello, Clark, good to see you again, intoned Dr. Klein, taking another bite of his half eaten doughnut, and looked back to the screen and sighed. It could mean a number of things. If they were meteorites, they would vaporize in the Earths atmosphere, unless they were composed of some remarkable material. If they are some sort of alien probes, they may well be of sufficiently advanced design to survive whatever we throw at them, short of Superman.

Clark began taking notes as well. Straightening his glasses on his nose, he looked to Dr. Klein, and asked, What is the possibility that they are both, or even one of them is, some sort of alien, like Superman, bent on taking some sort of action, hostile or benevolent here on Earth? He wanted to ask this question before Lois got a chance to.

Dr. Klein stroked his chin in thought, calculating and then responded, If they are, then they might be even more powerful than Superman. His breath capacity in space is only about twenty minutes or so, give or take a couple of minutes. The scans we have so far suggest partially metallic material, but also some organic, largely organic as a matter of fact, but that doesnt necessarily denote living objects. He took a breath, and explained to the two reporters, whose expressions conveyed deep questions threatening to burst forth. We have long conjectured that some alien races may base their technology at least partially on organic materials, if it could even be proven that such beings existed, which of course, was soundly proven with the arrival of Superman.

Lois nodded, her businesslike voice surfacing during this interview, fully in reporter mode now. So, it is a possibility that they could be some sort of alien threat, correct? Dr. Klein nodded, and she groaned, looking over at her husband, and spread her hands apart. See? I told you, Clark. She was clearly exasperated now. Her sharp gaze burned into his as she wrote that down in her pad, in heavily stressed print.

Clark hugged his wife with one arm, seeking to calm her down, smiling. But honey, Dr. Klein also said that could be any number of other things. No need for all this doom saying. He was trying to reassure her, so that she would grow calm, and go back to being the rational, albeit a bit trying, reporter she normally was.

As the couple talked softly, Dr. Klein frowned, moving to bring another screen to rest side by side with the first, activating it, and bringing up a second readout, of which the pattern was remarkably similar in many instances to one of the blips on the first screen, even to their untrained eyes. Dr. Klein clucked his tongue, and commented, Now that is strange. He looked at his two friends, Clark and Lois. This second screen is a readout of Superman, taken during a testing of extreme expenditure of solar energy during activities, such as flying in space. Note the similarities between it and one of these blips. His finger traced the similar curves in the streams.

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