Howdy, nerds! Here's your usual update (sorry, it's a little short), along with the great news that I am now on Wattpad! Same story, new platform, but also a new cover which I will soon be adding here as well. Please enjoy and review! I love chatting with you guys (if you don't want to chat, please at least say hi to Kylie (my dog))!

UPDATE: I am so sorry, I am an idiot. Barely 24 hours after publishing this did I remember that it's A) winter, B) set in the Arctic Circle, and C) the Arctic Circle is dark as heck in winter. I went back and tweaked the chapter a bit, and I'm going to go over the next few just in case. Thank you so much for your patience! (I also apologize for my obsession with remaining scientifically accurate [even if this is a sci-fi fic] I do try).


Chapter 26: The Ship


Clark watched the small iceberg receding in the night as the ship ascended, Lois' still form a grey spot against the white snow where he'd arranged her as comfortably as possible in plain sight of any passing rescue vehicles. He sighed, promising himself he'd done the right thing despite his unusual reluctance to leave the gorgeous reporter on her own.

"She'll be fine," came a familiar voice behind him as the bay doors closed shut of their own volition, and Clark turned around to face her, "Are you sure? Hypothermia-"

"She'll be fine," Darcie repeated again firmly, "The patrol helicopters pass directly over this area and there is no way they could miss her. A rescue team will get here within hours."

He nodded reluctantly in agreement, earning an odd look from her which he brushed away with another question, "Where do you think the ship is taking us?"

The ship in question had taken its first flight in thousands of years only the night before, assumedly after it had overheard its two passengers discussing what to do with Miss Lane and the ancient starcraft.

Clark had mentioned trying to fly the ship to somewhere secluded where humans were less likely to wander in and get hurt, and only moments later the engines thrummed in response to his words. It didn't take long for them to figure out that the ship took vocal commands from Clark (it refused to listen to Darcie, probably because it was Clark's key that was powering the craft). After returning to the bridge and half-an-hour of experimentation, Clark ordered the ship to break free from the glacier and fly south-east.

Darcie gave him directions to the flightpath of the military and cargo helicopters that kept the Ellesmere camp well supplied, and after another hour of searching in the dark for a suitable spot and figuring out how to get the damn ship to land, Miss Lane was safely deposited well in sight of any passerbys.

The reporter had remained mostly unconscious throughout the flight, only groggily waking up when the ship had broken out of the glacier, but she went back to sleep after Darcie had pinched her neck in what was apparently a 'nerve strike' and 'perfectly harmless if done correctly'. Clark had simply nodded and made sure that her coat was zipped up tight against the cold before gently scooping the unconscious woman up in his arms. He noted that she smelled faintly of cherries and wool, and she slept with her lips slightly parted, almost like she was waiting for a kiss. He had tried not to think about that as he carefully laid her down in the snow on the iceberg, scooping out a shallow depression for her to lay at least partly out of the wind.

Clark had been aware of Darcie watching him from the ship as he made sure the reporter was comfortable, but he was reluctant to leave her on her own in the open like this. Deep down, he knew she would be just fine and that every moment he stayed was another where she might wake up and interrogate him again in her way he had found bemusedly interesting. He had liked talking to her, even if it was in a life-or-death situation, and part of him hoped she'd wake up just so they could talk again.

She hadn't, and Clark was forced to return to the ship, sighing to himself as he stepped inside.

"Let's get out of here," he'd muttered to Darcie, to which she had simply nodded as the ship responded to the command.

They had been in flight for a few minutes now, but still had no idea where they were going or what intentions the semi-sentient spacecraft had for them.

"I'm not sure," Darcie replied to his question of their destination, cocking her head to the side as if listening, "What about the man?"

"The one we saw earlier?"

She nodded, listening again, and Clark followed suit, both scanning the ship for any sound that might be out of place, but neither could detect even a footfall that wasn't theirs.

"No heartbeats besides ours," Clark stated after a moment, wondering where on Earth the mysterious figure had disappeared to. Darcie nodded in agreement and turned to head back deeper into the ship when he called after her. "Where are you going?"

"The ship is going somewhere, but neither of us are piloting it. I'm going back to the cockpit to see if I can figure out where it's taking us," came the reply. He nodded, watching her leave as he stood there a few moments longer before making up his mind and setting off to explore the rest of the craft.

Wandering through the smooth extraterrestrial passageways, Clark came across many closed doorways and pods embedded in the walls, flowing with the naturalistic design of the ship. He absently wondered if his command of the ancient craft extended to unlocking various rooms, but he didn't dwell on it long.

His exploration uncovered another vein-like hall splitting off from the main one, and out of curiosity, he followed it until the passage widened into a large vaulted chamber. A wall of glass gave him a clear view into an enormous tank of some sort, filled with a luminous clear liquid in which feathery branches of some alien kelp swayed gently in the current. On the slim branches budded empty golden globules that seemed to glow with an inner light, far different from any seaweed he had ever seen, yet somehow familiar in an odd way. The room reminded him of some sort of hydroponic garden or a kelp forest like he'd seen at an aquarium as a kid, but he had no time to question its purpose further when he felt the ship lurch slightly as it landed. Clark realized Darcie must have figured out how to control the ship manually and began to make his way to the bridge to join her.

He found the room easily enough, nearly every passage led to it eventually, and as expected he also found Darcie within, intently observing the various control panels that were flashing some alien text as the engines powered down.

'Recursive diagnostics complete.' a sleek, feminine voice stated as Clark entered the chamber, 'Guiding presence authenticated. All systems operational.'

Across the room, Darcie nodded in acknowledgment of the message. She was standing in front of the wide panel of windows that were now looking out over a snow-covered plateau, her gaze trained on the distant horizon where grey sky met white mountains. The clouds were just beginning to lighten in the south, but Clark doubted it would get much lighter than a hazy twilight as was typical for winter in the Arctic Circle.

"Where are we?" he asked, coming to stand beside her, and she shrugged stiffly in reply. "A good ways farther north and west of Alert, I think, though I could be wrong."

"Didn't you land the ship?"

"No," she shook her head, glancing up at him for the first time, "It landed itself."

Before he could ask how that was possible, a soft baritone interrupted him, "Kal."

The voice caught him by surprise, and obviously Darcie too as she went into what he could now only think of as her 'Battle Mode'. Her eyes flashed bright with solar fire as she twisted around to crouch protectively in front of him, the pale winter sun glinting off the steel of the hunting knife clasped in her right hand.

The man she was threatening to attack seemed completely unfazed, but his brown eyes smiled softly as if amused or affectionate. He stood a few feet away from the pair and was wearing a textured robe of alien leather over a navy blue skinsuit embossed with a curving shield over his chest, and his neatly trimmed beard gave him an air of wisdom. Clark recognized him as the man he had caught a glimpse of when they first entered the ship, the man who didn't have a heartbeat, but looking at him now he could tell why. Though he looked solid enough, the man shimmered and seemed to flicker in and out of reality when he stepped into the light, combined with the fact that he made no sound except for his voice indicated that he was some sort of complex three-dimensional hologram. Clark put a calming hand on Darcie's shoulder to hopefully keep her from attacking, and addressed the stranger.

"Who are you?" he questioned, keeping his tone polite, but there was a subtle hardness in his voice. The hologram didn't appear to have any harmful intentions towards them, but Clark got the sense that they should tread carefully.

"I am your father, Kal." the man answered with a soft smile, gently abating the pair's wariness of him before his joy faded regretfully, "Or at least a shadow of him, his consciousness, if you will. My name was Jor-El."

"And Kal?" Clark gestured to himself, understanding washing over him. "That's my name."

Jor-El nodded, his proud smile returning.

"Kal-El," he corrected gently, "It is."