Clark returned five minutes later. There was no sign of the green-wrapped explosive device. Instead, he carried some grayish rocks. I sniffed – was that a gunpowder smell?

Clark dumped the rocks onto the surgery tray. "Here, Bernie, a present for you. Moon rocks."

"Ooh…" Bernie goggled, looking like a kid at Christmas. "Where are they from?"

"The Moon."

Bernie persisted. "Where on the Moon?"

"Mare Tranquilitatis."

Perry looked up. "Did you see Armstrong and Aldrin's ship?"

Clark nodded. "The bottom half of the LEM – it's still there."

"You didn't put the bomb there, did you?" I asked. It would be heartbreaking if it exploded and destroyed the evidence that humans had, at one time, aspired to greatness.

"No. I put the bomb a few craters away," Clark answered patiently.

"Good. Now let's get to that download," Perry said, dismissing the Moon.

"What?"

"Way back at the beginning, Jor-El said that, to make use of the Fortress, you and Martha had to have a download."

"I'd almost forgotten," I muttered. "What with one thing and another…"

"Yeah," Clark agreed.

'Let's get to it," Perry said briskly. "Can you call up Jor-El and get things going?"

"With Bernie here?" I felt a rush of embarrassment.

"Especially with Bernie here," Perry said. I noticed he was worried. "And Martha goes first."

"Why?" Clark asked evenly.

Perry gave him another one of those straight-on looks. "As I recall, when this whole thing started, Jor-El informed us that your destiny was to rule the Earth."

Clark cast an anxious glance at Bernie, who seemed engrossed in the moon rocks. Then he met Perry's gaze squarely. "And you'll also recall that I denied that. Emphatically."

"Martha goes first, and I want an independent observer to see if…"

"If I've changed?"

"Just saying."

Clark said slowly, "And if Martha goes first, and she knows how to use the Fortress, and then I go, and if I get brainwashed, hopefully she can take me down." He smiled. "Good thinking, Perry."

"You're not insulted?" Perry asked cautiously.

"No. I'm kicking myself for not thinking of it, actually." Clark shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. Then Perry gave me a look. I called out for Jor-El and the avatar appeared.

Jor-El was perfectly happy to arrange the download – he'd had it ready right from the beginning. It was Klein, actually, who delayed matters. We'd had to explain the whole thing, and Bernie got tremendously excited at the thought of a direct knowledge dump and the implications. He pelted Jor-El with questions, until even the avatar's machine-created patience began to fray at the edges. Clark just looked on, not even bothering to hide his smile.

Perry finally succeeded in silencing Bernie – how, I don't know. I'd have to ask him later. I met Jor-El's eyes. Strangely enough, they seemed kindly. In a sudden flashback, I couldn't help but contrast them with Zod's dead, soulless gaze.

"Martha Kent, are you ready to receive the instruction which will acquaint you with the capabilities and controls of this Fortress?" the avatar asked formally.

"I am." I felt the weight of responsibility settle on me. Up to this point I'd been a dilettante – sure, the avatar would talk to me, but did I know what to do? I had power, supposedly, but I didn't know how to use it. Now I would.

"Jor-El, this will not hurt Martha, will it?" Clark asked.

"I assure you, my son, the download has been modified for humans. Martha Kent will be unharmed."

"Well, then." I think Perry muttered that.

"What do I do?" I asked.

"You have but to stand here," Jor-El said, indicating a spot near the control console, a circular patch on the floor starting to glow. "I will monitor you throughout."

I shrugged and stepped forward. Perry caught me. "Just in case," he said roughly. He gathered me close to him and kissed me, thoroughly and intensely. I felt dazed when he let me up.

Clark was waiting to shake my hand, a smile on his face. "You'll be fine." Unlike the last time we'd faced a Jor-El "procedure", this time Clark was confident.

Bernie waited at the edges, looking a little lost, left out of our threesome. I went to him, and clasped his hand in mine. "Bernie, I want to thank you for everything."

He perked up. "Martha, what an opportunity! You have to let me know all about it when you're done." He looked like he was about to spout into another fountain of questions when Perry cleared his throat meaningfully. "Oh. Uh, you're welcome."

I gave Perry one last hug, then went to stand in the illuminated circle. "Jor-El, I'm ready." A beam of light enfolded me and everything changed.

The first thing was words – I felt the Kryptonian words nestle sideways, next to their English counterparts. The flow came slowly, and an overwhelming presence asked me with every word (or so it seemed) Do you understand this? Does this make sense? Understanding would come, I would agree, and we would move on. The flow became faster. Ideas, concepts, things moved in for which there were no human equivalents. Still, the foundation had been built, and the presence guided me through. See, this is how it goes. This is what it means. This is how you do it.

My mind stretched, my thoughts flew in unaccustomed ways. My head ached and then the pain was soothed away. I could almost feel new pathways being formed, new bridges building. The flow became a deluge. I stood up to it, cataloging the information, putting each bit in its proper place, erecting an edifice of new knowledge. Kryptonian language, Kryptonian law, Kryptonian history, Kryptonian science, the paths of knowing that had led to this Fortress, the tender balances that must be preserved, the delicate acts here that would cause gargantuan changes there – all came to me, all with Jor-El guiding me, supporting me, constantly asking, Are you all right? Can you learn more? And I would say yes.

It seemed to last years, that time when I learned. Later, Perry told me it had taken less than five minutes. The deluge turned into a Niagara, and I knew there was much more. And yet, if I tried to take it in, I would be washed away. I remembered Clark saying that, in his world, with his Fortress, another man had tried the download and had ended up in a coma. I knew why. He hadn't been able to stop the information, stop the flow. He'd been eroded away, erased by the hammering flood of information.

I told the presence, I must stop. The flow diminished to a tiny drizzle. Jor-El held me up while he tidied away the last few bits. I opened my eyes.

Outwardly the Fortress had not changed, nor had the men anxiously awaiting me. I stepped forward and hugged Perry. "I'm OK," I whispered. Perry's fervent hug made it clear he'd been worried.

"Are you all right?" Clark asked. He looked even more worried than Perry.

"I greet you, Kal-El," I said. I spoke in Kryptonian. It felt natural. He grinned.

"I greet you, Honored One," Clark replied, also in Kryptonian. "Tell me, I beg you, of the things that happened."

Kryptonian seemed to be a more formal language than English. "Your esteemed father guided me safely. I know there is more to learn, but alas! My humanity denied me. You must learn what I cannot."

"Honored One, I hear and obey." Was there a twinkle in Clark's eye? I resolved to treat that as a social formality – Clark obeyed me only when he wanted to, the rat.

Perry figured it out. "I assume you two are speaking Kryptonian."

I turned to him, eyes sparkling. "Yes!"

"Did you learn anything about the Fortress?"

"Yes!"

"Well… a demo?"

"Clark, would you mind being the guinea pig?" I asked. "Nothing too serious."

Clark raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

I touched the control console, knowing exactly where to go and what to do. Another beam of light speared down, this time illuminating Clark.

"This is it?" Clark asked.

"Come over here," I said sweetly.

"OK." Clark stepped – and he stayed exactly within the confines of the beam. "Hey!"

"Imprisoning field," I said cheerily.

"I know a few people who could benefit from that," Perry muttered.

"Martha?" Clark called.

Klein came nosing around. "Very interesting! Can you reach out, Clark?"

Clark couldn't.

"Can I reach in?" Bernie stuck his fingers in the light beam and touched Clark's arm. "I guess I can." He stared at the field. "I wonder how this works."

"It's an application of – " and here I came to a halt, realizing that the explanation depended on one of those Kryptonian concepts for which there was no English equivalent. At least not yet.

"Clark, now I want you to get out," I told him. "Use all your strength."

Clark raised another eyebrow at this, but complied. He battered himself against the walls of the restraining field. I seemed to enjoy some near-telepathic connection with the Fortress, for I could feel the field weakening as Clark redoubled his efforts. If I fed more power to the field, I knew Clark would not be able to overcome it. But, curious, I let Clark batter it down.

"Interesting," Clark said, once he had won free. I saw he was breathing heavily and was actually sweating.

"Intruder control," I explained.

"But Clark could get out of it," Perry interjected.

"If I'd given the field more power, even Clark couldn't have gotten out."

"Did you do this with your Fortress in the other world, Clark?" asked Perry.

"No. I never really learned how to use it." Clark said ruefully. "I certainly don't want to repeat that mistake here." He stepped up to where I had been standing and said, "Jor-El, I'm ready."

Jor-El didn't waste time; the beam came down and encompassed Clark immediately. We waited, and I observed with interest. Had my face showed such expressions? Had my features been obscured by the light? Bernie tried to ask questions but I ignored him, and Perry followed my lead.

The light beam switched off, and Clark staggered. He met my eyes and smiled – I knew exactly why. The light of knowledge shone in his eyes too. I knew he wanted to try things out.

"Don't repeat my little experiment," I told him, speaking in Kryptonian just because I could. And because the thought of once again being imprisoned in the Fortress brought up very bad memories.

Clark's smile faded. He knew why I said that. "No, Honored One," he replied. "We will work together to fulfill our goals."

"Hey, speak English, OK?" Perry was annoyed.

"Right." I came over and took his hand, enjoying the feel of human contact, enjoying it more because it was Perry.

"What's happening?" Bernie asked plaintively. Just standing around and watching without understanding was killing him, I could tell.

Clark took pity on him. "Martha and I have become… familiarized with this structure, and now have the knowledge of what the Fortress can do and how to use it."

"Ah!" That struck Bernie speechless. He looked up at the vaulted beams, the crystalline girders, the alien setting. Before he could gather himself, Perry stepped in.

"So what are you going to do now?" That was Perry, always practical.

"Well, our basic goals were…"

I interrupted what was going to be Clark's long-winded explanation. "Just a minute. This calls for lunch. We never got any lunch."

Perry smiled. "I'm always in favor of lunch."

"Let me try something new…" I fiddled with the control console. The very first time we'd come to the Fortress, we'd asked Jor-El for a table. As I gained familiarity with the controls, I made some choices. Food, drink, dishes, tableware – they all sprang into being on the tabletop.

"Whoa!" Perry exclaimed. Clark didn't say anything, but lifted a hand in a salute.

"How did you do that?" Bernie said, going up to the table and lifting a bottle of wine. "This is amazing!"

"Matter replicators," I said. "They can duplicate what we've brought into the Fortress. They can't create living things, though." I shooed everyone over to the table. "Bon appetit."

We sat down, and after a slight initial uncertainty, everyone dug in. Bernie couldn't stop running his finger over the flatware, and sniffing the cheese. He opened his mouth, and I knew we were in for another flurry of questions. I headed him off.

"So, Perry, in answer to your question, our basic goals were to get Clark home."

"And restore the Earth," Clark said stubbornly.

"Get Clark home? Back to Krypton?" Bernie asked. "Does this Fortress have interstellar capability?" He goggled again.

"No." Clark was curt.

"Krypton was destroyed," I explained to Bernie. I'd seen it in the download. Seeing the death of an entire planet was a sorrow almost too great to be borne. I wondered how Clark felt about it.

"Destroyed? How did that happen?" Bernie just could not stop asking questions.

"It's a long story." Unspoken in Clark's phrase was the addendum, that I don't want to talk about. His frown made that clear.

"OK, then." Bernie could take a hint, if you pounded it in with a mallet. "What do you mean, get Clark home?"

Clark sighed. "I was sent to Earth as a baby, before Krypton's destruction…" he went into the whole long and convoluted series of events. Bernie had heard it once already, but he seemed to want to hear it again. He had a whole series of new questions all ready to go.

I'd heard this story before. Perry and I played a little footsie and drank some wine. I found myself thinking of spending the night at Perry's again. Hmm, maybe we could take the wine along.

"So, you're from an alternate world?" Bernie looked even more fascinated, if such a thing were possible. "I'm a little shaky on quantum theory. I always thought the "many worlds" hypothesis had some serious flaws. I guess I'll have to go back and re-read the literature…" Bernie trailed off, lost in thought.

"Don't you think we should ask Jor-El?" Perry suggested, suddenly sitting up straight. I mourned the loss of our surreptitious contact.

"Good idea," Clark and I said simultaneously. We laughed nervously.

"Clark, you want to do the honors?" I asked.

Clark nodded, closed his eyes. I assumed he was making the mental adjustment that would "call" Jor-El, and the sudden presence of the avatar at our lunch table confirmed my assumption.

Perry began, when neither Clark nor I showed any inclination to start. "Jor-El, how can Clark get home?"

"By home, I assume you mean the alternate Earth whence he came, Perry White," the avatar said formally.

"Yes."

"This Fortress possesses the capability to open a gate between universes," Jor-El began. "It is an energy-intensive process. Fortunately, a direct tap of the solar mass will supply needed energy. As to the details…" Jor-El switched to Kryptonian. I followed the words but couldn't understand the meaning. Either I had missed some necessary concepts when I had to terminate the download, or my sketchy science education (or lack thereof) hadn't included those concepts before I had the download.

Clark, however, seemed to have no trouble following the conversation, and by listening to his frequent questions, I slowly understood one of the drawbacks. Actually, it was a huge drawback. The Fortress didn't know which alternate Earth Clark came from. Considering there were an infinity of possible worlds, this was more than a little disconcerting. And the avatar didn't seem to have any idea how to solve the problem.

Clark's conversation with Jor-El grew more frustrated, and finally Clark gave up and silenced the avatar with a wave of his hand.

"What?" Perry asked. He'd grown bored at the long conversation conducted in Kryptonian.

"I could go to another world, but Jor-El isn't sure he'd send me to the right world," Clark explained glumly.

"Why not?" Bernie piped up.

"I didn't understand everything," I began, "but what I got is that it's a "music of the spheres" thing. In this universe, Clark is very slightly off-key. But Jor-El doesn't know how to find Clark's home universe - the world where Clark is in tune. And we don't know how to tell him how to find it."

"That's very interesting," Klein burbled, oblivious to Clark's disappointment. "How'd you get here, then?"

"The Fortress in my world sent me."

"Hmm… doesn't seem to be information transfer between universes… on the other hand, you're here, Clark, and you are certainly information." Bernie unconsciously rubbed his head. He began muttering to himself.

As Bernie nattered on, inspiration struck. "Clark."

"Yes."

"Jor-El can do all this stuff – if we tell him to."

"Yes."

"But Jor-El is an artificial intelligence. A machine, basically."

"Yes."

"Machines are not known for independent thought."

"True." Clark began to get an inkling where I was going.

"Bernie is an idea guy. Give him the download and let him tussle it out with Jor-El."

Clark's immediate "That's crazy!" was drowned out by Bernie's sudden silence and then outright begging.

"Can you do that? That would be great. Jor-El, you said he was a scientist on Krypton? I'd love to talk with him, get his take on basic theory, applications, technology, you know." Bernie was almost shaking with the force of his wanting.

Perry grinned. "Why not?"

"Because it's not safe. " Clark spouted the words automatically.

I raised an eyebrow. "Maybe with your Fortress, on your world, it's not safe. But this is my Fortress." I backtracked a bit when Clark cleared his throat. "Well, it's our Fortress. So why not give Bernie the download? I've shown that humans can take it. It's safe."

"But…"

"Because you're used to keeping the alien thing a secret? Well, buster, this secret is blown already. And even if people don't know about the Fortress, they know you're an alien."

"Unfortunately, yes. But…"

"Because it's your Fortress? Well, it's mine, too."

"Excellent point," Perry said, grinning.

"Bernie wouldn't be a controller of the Fortress. He'd just get Kryptonian and the basics, so he could talk to Jor-El."

I could see Clark weakening.

"Besides, do you have any better ideas? There's probably not another guy on Earth right now with Bernie's qualifications. Clark, I think he can help you get home."

Clark gave in. "It's crazy. But when you put it that way, it makes sense. But one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Perry gets the download too."

"What?" Perry and I exclaimed simultaneously.

Now it was Clark's turn to grin. "It's hardly fair to give it to one and not the other, is it? Besides, all kidding aside, I think we might end up needing someone to rein us in and force us to meet deadline. Perry's good at that. If he can handle the Daily Planet staff, then he can handle a space alien – two space aliens if you count Jor-El, a mad scientist, and a crazy lawyer."

"I am not crazy!"

Perry gathered me in and hugged me. "Yes, you are, but in a good way." He leaned down to kiss me.

"I'm not," I repeated weakly. But only Perry heard me.

"So, Clark, you think we're going to have a deadline?" Perry asked.

"What do you think, Perry?" Clark asked rhetorically. "You know Lex is keeping an eye on me. How long do you think it'll take him to find out about this place?" He gestured at the crystalline beams, once alien, now familiar. "In fact, Bernie, you've got to give me your word not to talk to anyone about this."

"Why?"

I rolled my eyes discreetly at Bernie's naivete. Of course, he didn't know the whole story. He'd led a sheltered life. "Because it could – it would – get us all killed."

"Why?"

"I'll explain it later," Perry said, exasperated. If you were holding a contest to determine the Anti-Machiavelli, Bernie Klein would win. He was the most clueless man regarding politics that I'd ever met. And he was pretty clueless on interpersonal relationships, too. But he was nice. He had that going for him.

"So, Bernie, will you promise not to talk about the Fortress and what happened here to anyone? Except for me, Martha, and Perry, of course."

Bernie got a stubborn look. "If I get the download."

Perry began chuckling. "Is that blackmail?"

"Yes! No! No, it's not blackmail," Bernie said. "It's… it's a surgeon's fee."

I looked at Clark. He sighed and nodded. "He's got a point there."

"OK, Bernie. Just give us a minute to talk with Jor-El." Clark and I lowered our voices and spoke with the avatar. Jor-El confirmed my guess that Bernie would not be an authorized user of the Fortress, but that he could be given the Kryptonian language and much of the knowledge.

"OK. Stand right here." Clark pointed the spot to Bernie. Bernie, to his credit, didn't hesitate a moment. He stood where Clark indicated and stayed still as Clark told Jor-El to begin.

This download seemed to take longer, and I saw Perry looking at his watch. "Is it me or is this taking longer?"

"It's not you," Perry said. "It's probably been ten minutes. You and Clark each took less than five."

At that moment, the light switched off, and Bernie staggered slightly. Clark was there to support him. "Oh, wow," Bernie said, in a dazed tone.

"Bernie? You OK?" Clark asked, gently guiding Klein to a chair."

"Yes… just thinking."

Clark raised an eyebrow but let Bernie sit back.

"I had not expected to find a human of such breadth of intellect," Jor-El observed. "Indeed, I shall enjoy talking with Dr. Klein."

"Glad to hear that," I muttered.

"OK, Perry, time for you." Clark affected a false jollity.

"Come on. I thought you were kidding."

"No, I'm serious. Dead serious. And something else."

"What?"

"I want you to be the backup Fortress controller if Martha and I are both dead or incapacitated."

Why hadn't I thought of that? It made total sense. "Yeah."

"You're pretty hard to kill, Clark," Perry said. He made no mention of me. Humans had been shown to be easy to kill. We'd died in the billions over the last three years.

"Things happen," Clark replied. "And, if Martha and I are both gone, then what's going to happen with the Fortress? Will Jor-El take it on himself to fulfill "Kal-El's mission"? Rule the Earth? You know that's what he's thinking of. Perry, if you're in charge, I know things will be OK."

Perry flushed. "You're putting a lot of confidence in me, Clark." I knew what Perry felt. The responsibility, the weight of that power… it was a heavy burden.

"You've trusted me. I trust you."

Perry nodded. "Don't make me have to step in."

"I'll try not to."

Clark and I had another quick conversation with the avatar, and confirmed that Perry could indeed be our backup.

Perry didn't go to the download with eagerness as Bernie had; instead, he went to the spot as if he were a condemned man taking that last lonely walk down the corridor the electric chair. But in the end, he agreed, and the light washed over him.

It took only three minutes, by my count, before the light went away and Perry stood there, his brain full of Kryptonian knowledge. "I think I got less of that than you did," Perry said, trying and failing to reach his usual cheerful cynicism.

"It didn't take as long as I expected," I said cautiously.

"I'm a reporter. I know a little bit about a lot, and a lot about very little. I'm no Dr. Klein."

I hugged him. "I don't want you to be Dr. Klein. I want you to be Perry White."

I saw him push away the somberness of the burden he'd accepted. "Well, today's my lucky day, then." He laughed, leaned over, and kissed me.

We gathered once again at the table. Perry and Klein both had the inward look – I'd had it too, right after the download. You were getting used to what had been put in your head.

I started. "OK. This is the meeting for Operation Get Clark Home."

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute." Clark half stood up in his chair. "I think you've forgotten something. I'm flattered, but this should be the meeting for Operation Restore the Earth." He met my eyes squarely. "I'm not leaving till I do something to help."

How had I forgotten? Maybe because everything had gone so smoothly so far, I didn't want to think about the mostly-dead and blasted Earth. "Oh. Yes."

"Restore the Earth?" Perry asked cautiously.

"Here's something I've wanted to ask for a long time. Jor-El!" Clark called the avatar. Unconsciously, we'd left a place for the hologram at our table.

I felt like Jor-El should answer "You rang?" as he materialized, but instead, the avatar merely inclined his head and said, "Yes, Kal-El?"

"How many people are left on Earth?"

Jor-El raised a hand, and a hologram of our planet sprang into being. Tiny lights dotted the continents, with the major concentration in North and Central America. Every continent, though, had at least one or two lights on it. "As depicted on this representation, the current human population of this planet is fifty-one thousand, four hundred and forty-seven."

I gasped. I knew billions had died, but I didn't know our numbers were that low. Perry shot me a grim look as Clark went on.

"How many species became extinct since Zod's arrival?"

The holographic Earth remained spinning on its axis as Jor-El considered. "The number is variable depending on taxonomic definition."

"Please clarify."

"Results are regarding the plant and animal kingdoms only. Monerans, fungi, and protozoans were not strictly catalogued."

"That will suffice," Clark said. He met my eyes and added sardonically, "I don't think we have to discuss which bacteria got wiped out."

"Based on the most currently accepted taxonomic classifications, fifty-seven phyla, one hundred eighty-nine classes, and nine hundred sixty-one orders have become extinct."

Klein's indrawn gasp told me Jor-El's statement had great significance. "What?" I asked.

"Taxonomically speaking, Martha, phyla, classes, and orders are big groups," Bernie explained. "For example, in the Phylum Chordata, which includes us as vertebrates – animals with a backbone – " Klein added, "there's the Class Mammalia. Mammals. If an entire class disappeared, that means all the orders, families, genera, and species in it became extinct, too. There are, well, there were, probably eight thousand species of mammals."

"So, if sixty-seven classes went extinct, and they all had eight thousand species in them…" I tried to do the math in my head.

"Not every class will have eight thousand species," Klein said. Some classes only have a few."

"Or a lot more," Clark said grimly. "I haven't heard any frogs in all the time I've been traveling around. What if amphibians are extinct? How many species of frogs and toads were there?"

My heart plummeted. Somehow, the lack of spring peepers and croaking bullfrogs meant much more to me than dry recitations of taxonomic losses.

"And large animals. Elephants, rhinos, tigers – they were in trouble even before Zod came. None of them made it through. We're lucky to have some sheep and goats left."

"We've still got rats," Perry said sarcastically. "And cockroaches."

Clark nodded cheerlessly. "I've been thinking a lot about this. All of us – we all knew what Earth was like, before. But the kids – they'll grow up in a world with nothing. Almost everything has been killed off." His voice grew hard. "That's unacceptable."

"So what do you plan on doing about it?" Perry challenged.

"At first, I thought there was nothing I could do. Then, when we got the Fortress up, I realized change was possible."

"Don't tell me you're going to go back in time and prevent the whole episode."

Clark had an odd look on his face. "I'm sorry. No."

I knew why. I knew this Fortress probably had contained one "go back in time" crystal. But Brainiac had used it to go back to Krypton, in his attempt to keep baby Clark from leaving Krypton and coming to Earth.

I hoped that Perry and Bernie didn't get the knowledge that time travel – at least once – was possible, given the Fortress's capabilities. I hoped they'd overlook the fact that Clark had refused, rather than saying time travel was impossible. They'd want to use it, and who knew what could happen? The deaths of seven billion could not be so lightly overturned.

"No," Clark repeated. "We have to go forward. We have to rebuild."

"With what?" Perry challenged him again. "I don't see much here." His skeptical gaze took in the stark crystal architecture of the Fortress, our human-derived table and chairs only emphasizing its alienness.

"We can go to alternate worlds." Clark said it softly. "An infinity of alternate worlds."

Bernie got it first. "But can we bring stuff back with us?"

"I think we can," Clark said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Bernie got there first again. "We're going to steal things."

"Not stealing," Clark said reprovingly. "Exchange." He smiled. "Jor-El will open a gate to an alternate world. We'll figure out some way to trade our bit of Planet Earth for theirs."

"This would be a world without humans?"

"Worlds, Perry, worlds. We'd look for a world without humans but fairly comparable, exchange a small amount of ours with theirs, and move on to the next world. Repeat as needed."

"Spread our trash all over the neighborhood?"

"I prefer to see it as limiting the damage to any particular world. Drop in one tiny section of, oh, burned-out territory – " I immediately thought of the heat-fused, glassy moonscape of what had once been the Kent Farm as Clark went on – "into, say, the Great Plains of an alternate North America, and let Mother Nature and Father Time do their work."

"And then we bring back that same section from another world, a world that never had humans or aliens, um, disturb it." I got what Clark was aiming at.

"So if we use a lot of different worlds… hmm. Each alternate world only exchanges with a little bit of our damaged world. We repair our own world by stealing a tiny bit from a lot of other places. All those tiny bits add up and our world's damaged territory is replaced by pre-human landscape."

"You've got it, Perry."

Perry whistled. "You don't think small, Clark."

"I can't afford to, Perry."

"Restoring the Earth, a piece at a time… it's a laudable objective. It's a goal worthy of this Fortress." Perry actually sounded awed.

"I can't do it without you, Perry. Without all of you." Clark gestured to include Bernie and me.

Perry swallowed. "Well, since it's my job to keep us on deadline, I'll start by asking those newspaper questions. How are we going to do it? When?" He chuckled. "I guess we have the who, where, and why already covered."

"Yes," said Clark. "We've got a lot of planning to do."