ShatteredLegacy
A novel by
Steven W. Eden
Superman and all related characters are the copyrighted property of DC Comics
1
George Kent slowly lowered his newspaper and peered over it like Kilroy over a fence. "Hey! Take it easy on those pancakes, young man! You're not the only one here who likes breakfast, ya'know!"
The young man smiled at his father and blushed. "Sorry, Pa! I just can't control myself with Ma's cooking and if there is ONE thing I have super-speed for, it's her pancakes. Pass the syrup, brat!" The little girl handed her brother the sticky bottle of pancake topping and sighed as if resigned to be the "brat" the rest of her natural life.
"Can't you come up with a better name than that? I've got a LOT of names for you! Let's see, how about stupi..."
"All right, now!" interrupted the mother, "I think that will be quite enough. You two need to brush and hurry out to catch the school bus anyway. It's almost time for it to come down this way." Jimmy and Noel did their finest "Awww, Mom!" impressions and then scurried away to the bathroom to do as they were told. "What's new in the paper, Honey?"
"Just the usual stuff. Demonstrations for Martian independence taking place today at Collyer Colony."
"That scares me just a little bit! I can sympathize with their cause, but some of those people can be pretty radical. Will that be a problem for your flight today?"
"No, shouldn't be. Ours is just a little shuttle flight to Hamilton. Those folks have more important targets than us to spread their message to. We'll make our run and be back bright and early tomorrow and then you and the kids and I will be on our way to Kansas and the family reunion. Hmmm...That is, unless we get swallowed up by the Earth.
"Look at this. More tremors on the Eastern Seaboard. Weird. For years, they've been expecting 'the big one' to drop California into the Pacific and now the OTHER coast starts to...Uh-oh! Look at the time. I'll be late for work if I don't get on out of here myself right NOW! Remember, you guys, our vacation starts this weekend!" shouted the father, then added in his most dramatic aside to his wife, "wouldn't want to make it into the PERMANENT kind, would we?"
With that and with kisses all around, the kids and their dad all filed out of the house and were off to their respective destinations, leaving Phyllis Kent to herself in peace and quiet. She poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down to read the newspaper and thought, "Ah, just your typical twenty-second century American family ..."
"Mr. Kent, the answer, please?"
Jimmy looked up at Mr. Weisinger as if just awaking from a dream, which, in fact, he was. And it was a doozy of a dream, too. Flying through the air as if he had wings and the people on the ground looking up, smiling at him, waving at him, and just being grateful that HE was there to handle any crisis that was too big for the rest of humanity…
"Mr. Kent…Are you with us?"
"Oh…uhm…yes, of course, the answer…I was just thinking about it…and …uh…yes…the answer is…er…is…Mr. Weisinger, I'm sorry. Would you please repeat the question?"
Weisinger's eyes were suddenly two daggers heading straight for Jimmy's heart. This wasn't the first time he'd been caught daydreaming in history class and it was likely that the repercussions would be considerable…
"Mr. Kent, what is it about us that you find so detestable that you refuse to be here even when you are here? It is not my usual practice to single out an individual and embarrass him before his peers, but you seem to enjoy the infamous acclaim that it brings. This is…what…?…the fourth time this term that you obviously weren't listening to the lecture. And I would so have thought that this lecture, at any rate would have had the juice to hold your attention…at least for the required fifty-five minutes…?"
It seemed as if the entire world was staring at him, now. Only this time, not smiling and waving in adoration, but with cynical sneers and pitied expressions usually reserved for outcasts and unfortunates. This seemed to last an eternity, although in reality was only three seconds until…"RIIIIIIIIIING!"
"Class dismissed…except you, Mr. Kent. Stay behind, please. I want to talk to you." Jimmy knew what was going to happen as classmates filed out the door, joining the massive herd of students in the hall, each heading for his or her next destination. As they passed, Jimmy pondered his situation and became increasingly worried. What form of punishment would be taken? They don't expel students for daydreaming, do they? This is just what he didn't need! …another black mark on his already checkered educational history. What will Mom say? Worse, what will Dad say? I gotta talk my way outta this, thought Jimmy, or I'm toast at home!
"Mr. Weisinger, I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean…"
"Oh, please! Mr. Kent, do you think you're the first student that failed to be attentive in class? I'm simply grateful that you weren't head down, snoring, and keeping the other sleepers awake! But you, Mr. Kent…Jimmy…! I would've thought the subject of our study would be especially interesting to you, considering your ancestry. Your great-great-great-grandfather was Earth's greatest friend and defender. I would think that you, of all my students, would not only find the subject fascinating, but would even add to the class with inside anecdotes or family legends to make the lectures less tedious. What seems to be your problem?"
Jimmy looked at the older man a moment, hesitated, then offered, "I don't know why, exactly, it is, Sir. I do know that since I could remember, I've been told how wonderful my ancestor was, how he saved the planet ten times over. It didn't matter…if it was an asteroid on a collision course with Earth or an evil predator bent on world conquest; he stopped 'em all. The stories seem to become more unbelievable with each retelling. I can believe how he fought crime and made the city of Metropolis safer. I can even believe how he helped in times of natural disasters - those incidents are well documented. I know that I should be proud of my heritage, but…honestly…I'm just…embarrassed by it all. Plus, it seemed like the whole time I was growing up that there was this big blue icon that I would never be able to live up to…no matter how hard I tried. I know I'm not the best student in the world anyway, but when it comes to this…I can only…well…daydream about what it was like."
"I see. I suppose that could be a very tough legacy to live up to, and you do have my sympathy. However, I have a class to run. A class that you, no matter your feelings, are very much a part of. I need your attention, Jim, and you need to learn this material to pass. Even if you divorce yourself from your heritage, you still are required to get through this class, and that means knowing something about this subject. You can simply study the text at your disposal and get by with the minimum information necessary to pass. But isn't it a shame that you have all that priceless family lore handed down generation to generation and you choose to ignore it simply because you're embarrassed by it…?
"I believe we will have to correct that somehow. You may, as punishment for your inattentiveness, take a zero for the week - I'm sure that will be a very difficult hole to resurface from, academically speaking, but not impossible…"
OH, MAN! NO! That would just about wreck the whole term and what will my parents do to make it even worse…?
"…Or…" Jimmy's ears perked up like a pet puppy when its master unlocks the door and walks in…Maybe there is hope after all.
" You can bring me an extra credit paper - the subject of which will be your great-great-great grandfather and his exploits. Only…Mr. Kent…this paper will not contain any material from your text, the encyclopedia, et cetera. No. This paper will be mainly accounts from your relatives and others that have ancestors with first-hand knowledge of these. You may use newspaper archives as a guide and non-fiction books to authenticate, if necessary, but the bulk of this paper will be material you derive from actual conversation. And I want to be able to contact these people to verify the accounts."
"WHOA…! Not asking for too much there, are we, Mr. W? When must I have this in? I don't see how I could get this done any time soon.…"
"To be frank, Jimmy, neither do I. The zeroes will remain on your record until the paper has been given to me or until the end of the term. That should be enough time to complete the task. When I get the paper, you lose the zeroes, and receive whatever extra-credit grade I find appropriate. I think that is more than generous in light of your personal history of misdemeanor behavior. Are we clear?" Weisinger began studying papers for his next class.
Jimmy blinked a couple of times, and swallowed hard. This paper thing will not be easy, but better to pump Mom and Dad for information than to BE pumped about his grades. "Yes, Sir. I guess so. Thank you for the chance to make it up, Sir. And oh yes, Mr. W…?" The teacher looked up at his student. "You left out a 'great' on my relationship to him. After all this IS the year 2167." And with a smile and a wave, Jimmy headed for the door.
"You see?" said Mr. Weisinger with a smile of his own, "You did have something to contribute after all."
As Jimmy entered the hall and began the trek towards his next class, the bell rang once again.
Rats! I'm going to be late and I forgot to ask Mr. W for a note, thought Jimmy, Now that is just about the way my life always seems to go! You'd think things would go better for a direct descendent of Superman.
And with that, Jimmy entered his next class.
Dust, dust, and more dust! It seemed to Phyllis Kent as if this job would never end. It had been at least a year and a half since she had last cleaned the attic and it certainly showed. This was something she had been putting off for some time, but with George on a flight to Mars colony and Jim and Noel in school, this was finally the time to get started. When the kids get home, she thought, there would be two more soldiers to join the dust crusades.
Phyllis had pretty much started with the north wall and worked her way to the east. She recognized most of this stuff, but a few of George's things seemed a little…foreign to her. She thought he had shown all these relics to her before, but she couldn't recall what he had said about them. Of course, when George explained anything to her, she often shut out the sound and just enjoyed being held by the big Teddy Bear, so it wouldn't be unusual for one or two items to escape her memories. She loved him so much. She didn't even know his family was those Kents when she said yes to him those years ago, but it didn't matter. She would have married him anyway. Family heritage was never an issue.
As Phyllis reminisced about their courtship days, she leaned upon an old roll top desk that, as far as she knew, had never been opened since they stored it up here. Jimmy's great-grandfather Bruce asked them to keep it just before he died. Even though Jimmy was only a month old when Bruce passed away, she could sense some sort of special connection between them.
"Jimmy will need the desk, Phyll, someday. He'll know when the time will be. Please, make sure it will be there for him when he needs it!" Phyllis remembered well his words and how she had promised the old man. But to this day, she still couldn't figure out why Bruce had asked her and not George. After all, George was his grandson, and while she adored Bruce, blood was blood.
With a deep sigh, she began to busy herself once more in the Kent family antique parlor when the floor seemed to shift, throwing her not so gently against the roll top. Is it my imagination, she wondered, or did the house just move? She pushed herself off the desk in order to get back to work. "Ka-CHUNK," came the sound from under the roll top.
"Oh, no…now what have I done…?" said Phyllis as an eerie green glow bathed the room.
"Oh, no…now what have I done…?" said Captain Ellsworth. "George! Get in here! I need your help a minute!"
As Lt. Commander George R. Kent ambled forward to the cockpit, Ellsworth double and triple checked his gauges, which were, at the moment, behaving in a very abnormal manner.
"What's the problem, Whit? Sounds like the Indians are surrounding the wagon train." Kent was a big man of 44 years, with black hair graying a bit at the temples, and in superb physical shape. He could have any number of women, except for the fact that his baby blues were only for his wife, Phyllis. "Maybe we should circle 'em up?"
Normally Whitney enjoyed bantering quips about with his co-pilot, but this was not one of those times. "Fluctuation in the CO2 recovery gauge…maybe a leak!" Kent winced at the news and made a whistling sound as Ellsworth continued. "Yeah, diagnostics seem to locate it in the line at grid 37-A. It's probably not serious, George, but if it gets any worse, our passengers…all of us… could have a hard time breathing before we reach Hamilton. Check it out, Will ya?"
Kent aye-ayed his best friend, and with an exaggerated version of his best salute, turned to head back to find the trouble spot.
"Oh, and George..."
"Yes, Captain Ellsworth, sir?"
"I don't have to remind you about the political angling going on at Collyer Colony. I'm sure this is not sabotage, but even if it is, it isn't! If you get my drift."
"Aye, aye, sir. It'll be smiles all the way there and smiles all the way back. See ya later, Junior!" George patted the shoulder of Jack Larson, the ship's navigator and began to trek aft. He wanted nothing to stand in his way of getting to Hamilton Spaceport on Mars, because the sooner he got there, the sooner he could return home to Phyll and the kids and begin that long overdue vacation. He still couldn't believe that she didn't want to go to some exotic location on one of the nearby resort planets, and he had earned enough travel points in hours and commendations with the company that his entire family could fly free to anywhere Yellow Sun Space Lines docked. But not this time. Phyllis insisted on taking the family on an earth-bound vacation, to visit the old Kent farm in Kansas, no less. She had even gotten in touch with his sister and between the two of them, had set up the family reunion with all the other branches on the Kent family tree.
I wonder what Cousin Curt looks like these days, George wondered, It seemed like forever since he had been there last, and he was eager to introduce the kids to their family roots and heritage…especially Jimmy. His son never seemed to want to understand the importance and the responsibility of his lineage.
But to get home, he had to get to Mars. And to get to Mars meant that right now he needed to find and repair that CO2 line. George nodded and smiled at the weary travelers of flight1951 as he made his way aft as Whitney chimed in to the passengers on the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. I hope you are enjoying our flight from Earth DFW Interplanetary to Hamilton Lunar Spaceport. We are currently experiencing a difficulty with a minor systems control, but be assured it is nothing that will affect your trip and we should have the problem resolved in a matter of minutes. In the meantime, please enjoy the snacks being provided the flight attendant and thank you for flying Yellow Sun." George wished the spacecraft were a wide luxury liner instead of a small shuttle as he maneuvered around Doris, the stewardess handing out crackers or peanuts to hungry commuters. Finally, he reached the maintenance hatch and entered.
"Now, let's see…" he muttered softly to himself, "...I believe he said grid 37-A…" Kent studied the maze of conduit carefully, magnifying the images in his head.
At least microscopic vision is one ability passed down the ol' family tree, he thought. A-ha! There's the culprit! It's just a pin-sized hole but it could have made a lot of people very sick before we would've landed. It doesn't look like sabotage. It's too small to be deliberate, and yet...
As George began to repair the breach, something was still bothering him about the grid. And then, suddenly he realized what it was…