Clark stepped out of the elevator and into the bullpen at the Daily Planet. As always, the room was abuzz with tension, electricity, excitement, and urgency.
It was a large open space with rows upon rows of desk sat against one another. The far wall was a line of offices, the largest of which belonged to the Daily Planets Editor, Perry White. To the left was the graphic designs and layout department. To the right was the break room. There were three pillars running parallel along each row; a cluster of flat-screen televisions anchored to each near the ceiling. Almost every set was tuned to a different news station.
As Perry had explained when he had them installed: "Internet. Television. Radio. Newspaper. In that order!" he said. "But people rely on newspapers, because we're the ones that get it right!" The idea was that when a story breaks on the internet or television, the papers take the time to dig, uncover the facts, and report the real story.
Clark's desk was near one of the far windows. He had traded three times and even went as far to offer Mary Gibbons a week of his vacation time to get the desk. He wanted it so he could "keep an eye" on the city while he worked. People were starting to make comments about him staring intently at this wall or that, asking him if he was seeing things that weren't there.
While, technically, the answer was "yes"; he was seeing things using his X-ray and telescopic vision, but instead, he found himself falling back on the same excuse: "I was just thinking really hard."
He placed his briefcase on the desk and made to sit in his chair.
"KENT!" the shout came.
Clark's rear hadn't even touched his chair when Perry came storming out of his office. He was wearing a white button up, grey slacks and a matching tie that hung loosely around his neck.
"My office! NOW!" Perry barked.
Clark swallowed hard and followed the man inside the largest office on the floor.
Perry slammed the door behind him.
He made his was around his desk like an angry storm. Clark simply stood there, and braced for the inevitable tirade that was to come.
Perry stood with his back to Clark, between his desk and chair, staring out the large floor to ceiling window at the city beyond. He took a deep breath.
"What newspaper do you work for?" he asked finally.
Clark let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I work for the Daily Planet, chief." He answered.
"Do you?" Perry asked; turning and facing him. "Because I can't tell. You're barely here. And when you are, your mind seems to be a hundred miles away. You disappear for days at a time; no call out. No doctors excuse. And then you just reappear like everything's dandy. So it leads me to think that that either, A.) Maybe you don't really work here, or B.) Maybe you shouldn't."
"I-I'm sorry, chief. My mom was sick and I had to rush home…"
"No excuses, Kent! I've heard enough of them to last a life time. 'Your mother was sick. Your dog was lost. Your car broke down. Lois was missing.' Enough already." Perry flopped down in his chairs and looked up at the man in front of him. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. He eyed him in silence for a long moment. "Kent," he began. "You're a great writer. You are the fastest typist I've ever seen, you get stories that even Lois can't get, and I don't even want to know how. But these disappearing acts will not be tolerated. I need reporters who are dedicated, Kent. Reporters who put the story first. Unreliable reporters are no use to me. No matter how good they are. This is a dying media, Kent. Sales are down across the board. We need to be better, faster, and more reliable, than the Journals, and the Posts, and the Times of the country. That means my reporters have to be the best, Kent. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"I-I really do, chief. And I apologize. I just… well… it was my mom, you know… and I had to make sure she was alright…"
The door burst open and a young photographer blew in to the room like a gust of wind.
"CHIEF! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! Oh, hey C.K." Jimmy Olsen said as he pulled the remote control from his boss's desk.
"Hi, Jimmy." Clark responded with a smile, glad for the interruption.
"My door was closed, Olsen." Perry said, sitting forward. "When my door is closed, that usually means I don't want to be disturbed. Now was one of those times, Olsen."
"I'm sorry chief…" Jimmy apologized, flipping channels. "But trust me; this is gonna be worth it." He found the news station he was looking for.
A woman was holding a microphone to her mouth. The sky behind her was dark purple with the hint of dawn on the horizon. The CNN logo was firm in the bottom left hand corner of the screen and next to it; the reporter's name, one Tammy Langston, was apparently reporting LIVE! From the Australian Air Force base.
"… unconfirmed, but reports from surrounding outpost are all the same; that at four twenty-eight a.m. local time, and explosion lit up the sky and sent tremors along the ice shelf that were felt as far as four hundred miles away. The epicenter of the explosion is believed to be the Stangin Research facility located in a remote location of the Antarctica, roughly three hundred and sixty miles northeast of the Ronne Ice Shelf."
"Isn't that where Lois went?" Jimmy asked.
Perry glanced over at Clark, who swallowed hard, but didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"Because of its remote location, authorities are having a difficult time reaching the facility to confirm the amount of damage and whether or not there are any survivors. Based on the reported nature of the Stangin Research Facilities experiments, namely experiments with nuclear fusion; local authorities have been prompted to send out a N.E.S.T.; Nuclear Emergency Search Team; as a precaution. Again, the reports of a nuclear incident are unconfirmed, but an explosion did rock the northern area of Antarctica and as of now, all we can do is hope and pray for the men and women located at that research facility."
The news had shifted to an unrelated story, but Perry was still looking at the screen. "Tell Alice and Walter to contact their sources in the UN and find out what the joint nations are planning to do about the collection of international scientist that were at the facility. Tell Doris to get in touch with Jason Wright at the Sydney Morning Herald; it's a bit of a rag, but he owes me a favor."
Perry picked up the phone and start dialing. "Clark," he said as he punched numbers into the phone. "I want you on the next flight to Sydney. I'm sure Lois is alright, and I want you there when she pops up. Maybe between the two of you, you can get a decent story out of all this…"
"Umm… chief…" this from Jimmy.
Perry looked up and saw Jimmy standing in front of an open office door. Clark Kent was no were to be seen.