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Prologue: Happy Landings
If anyone had asked Jonathan Kent where he would be on this October afternoon he would have responded without hesitation at the feed store, on a neighbors farm or working on his own farm. It never would have occurred to him to be driving Lionel Luthor, one of the richest men in the state of Kansas to Smallville General with his injured son. Let alone be carrying what was a space pod in the back of his truck, under some tarp with it's two inhabitance.
Jonathan's attention was split between the sky and the strange assortment of passengers he had in his truck. The heavens were no longer raining down with fiery balls reminiscent of stories from his Sunday school than had a place in a Kansas sky. He glanced at the woman again. She was young, as best as he could tell. Her long auburn hair fell free over her shoulders and obscured her face slightly. But he could see her lips moving continuously as she spoke in a low voice to her son? Jonathan queried. The boy on her lap, like his mother looked human enough. When they had scrambled up the side of the crater that the ship had gouged out of the field he had stood to about the woman's mid thigh. So what did that make him about 3 perhaps 4? The alien child with the brown hair had taken a fascination with the older boy, Lionel Luthor's son. He seemed to be talking to him and petting his face gently. Jonathan was afraid that he might hurt the Luthor boy, but instead he seemed to have a very gentle touch.
Suddenly a burning meteorite crashed into the road ahead of the truck, "Hold on!" Jonathan called to his passengers and preceded to swerve around the gagged hole that the meteorite created in the middle of the road. Jonathan kept a wary eye on the sky as he continued to drive.
Soon the vast flat Kansas plains gave way to houses that sprung up in denser clusters denoting the beginning of the town. And the true horror of the day began to dawn on Jonathan. The formally small tidy houses were ripped apart exposing the inner rooms to the light of day. In some places a toothy gap was all that was left where a house obviously once stood. The debris of burned cars strewn across the road. The air was rent with the shrill tones of useless security alarms, screams and the bark of dogs.
By the time they had inched their way to the hospital in the heart of Smallville Jonathan had counted over 50 people dead in what was left of their homes. A vision so harrowing that only his combat experience could compare with it.
"Thank you so much, thank you." Lionel Luthor said gratefully as he took his son out of the truck as they stood in the car park of Smallville General. The scene around was chaotic, cars were parked haphazardly, people ran to and fro, some with blood poring from their various injuries. "If there is anything I can do for you or your family don't hesitate to ask." Lionel said to the man who had saved his life and that of his son.
"Oh they aren't my family," Jonathan began and then stopped himself, "Don't mention it I would have done the same for anyone." He watched as Mr Luthor carried his son to the doors of the hospital and barged into the facility. Jonathan didn't have to worry if he would be seen to. Even in this chaos he was sure that a Luthor would receive the best care. He spared a thought for the boy. He had looked so wan, so pale. Barely moving all the while they had been driving. And his head, not a scrap of hair on the poor boy's head. The voice of the small boy as he struggled to break free from his mother's restraining hold brought him back to his dilemma.
What to do with his two remaining passengers? He watched as the woman quieted the boy and whispered to him. He wondered what she was saying. What would a mother say to a child who had just lost a companion, a playmate. Implore them to be patient. That they would meet another day. Was she right, would those two boys ever see each other again? Jonathan didn't know what to do. He looked into the woman's eyes, a suffusion of green. They seemed to implore him, beseeching him to look after them, help them. But what could he, a Kansas farmer do? Where could he take them, who would know what to do with them? Jonathan did the only thing he was sure of. He got back into the truck, carefully negotiated his way out of the parking lot, out of the town and headed home. A nights sleep would make this whole situation clearer. Give a bit of distance to the crazy situation that he found himself in.
As Jonathan drove he spoke, not caring if his passengers could understand him. "We are going home," he clarified, "back to my home. I live on a farm, with livestock but it is mainly a cereal farm." Jonathan realized belatedly that he might not even have a home, the carnage that he had seen the meteorites wreck that day. "I hope that the place is still in one piece." He sighed, "My family have owned the farm for three generations. If we survive this day I hope that I will have the chance to pass it onto another generation of Kents. MY name is Jonathan Kent by the way and my mother would be appalled at my manners." He continued talking as he drove. He was not sure but the sound of his voice seem to lull his passengers.
So deep in his monologue was he that Jonathan didn't notice when he said his name that the woman flinched slightly.
