TEN
Carlos Hernandez was born in the Honduras capitol city of Tegucigalpa, a city nestled in the southern highlands of the Central American country. At the age of fifty-two, Carlos would find himself at odd moments vividly recalling treasured moments of his Tegus childhood. Christmas celebration had always been his favorite time of year. His two older siblings always emoted various levels of anticipation anxiety for the arrival of San Nicolas. Carlos, however, never got too antsy because Christmas presents were always preceded on Christmas Eve with delicious food and loud fireworks.
For one particular Christmas, a five-year old Carlos begged incessantly his parents for a Superman action figure. The deluxe version of course. Carlos prepped to the point of writing a letter to San Nicolas. The letter went little beyond, "please give me Superman deluxe."
On that Christmas Eve night, with a belly full of delicious, homemade nacatamales, Carlos' chubby legs propelled him to one specific present with his name on it. It was the perfect shape to house his desired treasure. Christmas wrapping flew everywhere joining the hurricane of paper debris from his other siblings. And there it was, a twelve-inch high Superman action figure with removable cape, boots and belt. The deluxe component was a "signed" card by Superman welcoming the proud, new owner to the Superman fan appreciation club. The front of the card had an artistic rendering of Superman giving the thumbs up. The back of the card listed the member's rights and responsibilities to be agreed and signed by the new member. Carlos took ten minutes writing his name on a blank piece of paper before he finalized it on the card.
Carlos took the poseable action figure with him everywhere. His parents did however, forbade Superman making the journey with him to school. Regardless, even in moments of sheer recklessness there would be the Superman figure in his hand. A seven-year old Carlos, draped with a red towel around his shoulders and neck, leaping off the top of the one-story Hernandez house. Fortunately, Carlos had the sense to always target a soft landing upon a high mound of dirt. He would stop actively playing with the action figure several years later. He did not trash the toy despite much of Superman's suit being either torn or dirtied. Rather, he kept it stored in a cardboard shoe box under his bed.
At the age of nineteen, Carlos left his home to join the Honduran military air force. Carlos quickly rose through the ranks with a career of many highlights punctuated with a sequence in which he assisted the actual Superman. A pair of low-powered super villains decided their best career opportunity was to become twentieth century pirates. To attack and rob all manner of ships sailing in and around the Caribbean Sea. The villains landed on Superman's radar when they robbed a second cruise ship fifteen miles off the northern coast of Honduras. Superman arrived on the ship minutes after the robbery.
Carlos, at that moment, was piloting a F-5 fighter jet and was in position to chase after the villain's helicopter/airplane hybrid vehicle. He was unable to lock missiles on them. Worse yet, he was pushing his jet near maximum speed to keep up. He was half a mile trailing when he caught sight of a booster ignition flash accelerating the escape vehicle further away. He relayed position to his air command. The villains were soon to leave Honduran airspace.
Superman caught the communication exchange while speaking with Honduran military representatives who had made their way to the cruise ship. Just as his F-5 was nearing Guatemalan territory, Carlos saw a blue and red whooshing trail blow past his plane. The villain's vehicle contraption came to a halt as Superman crunched its turbines.
A grinning ear-to-ear Carlos piloted his plane back to base. As soon as his feet hit the tarmac, he heard and sensed something from above. Before he could register, there was Superman standing no more than two meters from him.
"Captain Hernandez," he greeted.
Carlos could not move. He could barely speak, only to utter, "Yes, sir."
"Please. It's Clark," Superman said extending his hand. "Thank you for the help up there. I shouldn't have let those two operate as long as they did."
Carlos managed to get his body to cooperate and shake Superman's hand. It took him a moment longer to realize Superman was speaking in Spanish.
"Yes, sir," Carlos said. "I mean, Clark."
Superman smiled. "Stay safe," he said taking up and off.
"Wait!" Carlos blurted upward waving his arms towards Superman. He watched what must have been a mile up, Superman stopping and coming back down towards him.
"You okay?" Clark asked landing in front of Carlos.
Carlos managed his breathing. He had also managed to pull his cellphone out from one of the many pockets on his air suit.
"I'm sorry," Carlos said. "I know you must get asked a million times…"
Clark eyed the phone and smiled. "Of course," he said moving to Carlos' side. "Let's move this way so we can have your plane in the background."
All Carlos kept thinking, as Clark turned he and him in position, was, "His Spanish is impeccable. Even the accent."
Carlos clicked the picture of Clark's arm around his shoulder. And then one more for sure.
"Thank you," he said. Thank you, Clark. And thank you for everything that you do."
"It's a team job, Captain," Clark said preparing to take off. "I need you too."
Clark left in a blur as air force officials and maintenance techs reached Carlos' plane.
Carlos would call his parents that day to not only tell them about meeting Superman, but also to ask if a certain cardboard box was still at the house.
Twenty-four years later, Carlos Hernandez would become Watchtower's Director of Security and Safety. In his position, Carlos is one of few individuals who have detailed knowledge about all Watchtower workers and residents inclusive of the Justice League.
He sits in his Watchtower office staring at the glass display case on the far wall. It borders the side of a window showing space and Earth down below. Many artifacts and pictures decorate the display case, but the top shelf is reserved for several objects – a boy's childhood favorite beat-up toy along with a card that has since been laminated. And a framed selfie that re-centers Carlos in times of stress.
He jokes about it every time Clark comes into his office. Carlos loved to raise the embarrassment level for Clark a bit more by telling and re-telling the action figure's history to whomever asked. He would, however, salve Clark's mock anger with nacatamales that his mother still makes on a regular basis. Outside of his family, there is no one Carlos looks up to more than Superman. Literally and figuratively he would joke. Superman was the primary reason Carlos learned to speak English. On many occasions, alone in his office, he will verbally assure himself in incredulous tone that he is a friend and colleague with Superman. To him, Clark.
Yet, Clark did not want Carlos to be a "yes man" when he was recruited to join Watchtower. Clark demanded of Carlos to express his opinion when asked. Not to express what he thought Clark wanted to hear. Carlos has never failed in that regard; however, he has only disagreed twice with a Justice League/Watchtower course of action.
He hears his office door chime. The solid metal door becomes a one-way, translucent window allowing Carlos to see who is there.
"Enter," he announces to Watchtower's automated system.
A middle-aged woman comes through the open entrance. Her dark red, two-piece, skirt suit snugs her body accentuating muscles honed in a gym. The suit's color matches attractively against her caramel skin complexion. The door silently closes behind her. Carlos stands up from his chair motioning her to the chair at the front of his large, glass top desk.
"Always good to see you, Amanda," Carlos effectively lies noticing her always tight facial expression, bordered by a shortly cropped, curly hair style.
"Carlos," Amanda Waller replies sitting down.
"Drink?" he asks motioning to a small refrigerator unit in the office.
"No," she says.
Carlos plops down into his high-back office chair. "As you like. What can I do for you in person that I couldn't do over computer vid?"
"I don't have one hundred percent faith in the integrity of such communication," she says.
"There's none stronger and least corruptible than here to the White House," he replies. "As President Stilton's Chief of Staff, you don't trust your end?"
"The operative word in all of that is, least, which means there is potential," Amanda says. "Besides it took me less than five minutes to come up here. But I digress. What's going on with Hal Jordan and J'onn J'onnz."
"What about them?" Carlos asks.
"Kent delivered a report to the UN. What's the latest?" she asks.
"The latest is the report," Carlos says.
"The inside scoop?" Amanda pressed.
"Good god, how many times, Amanda?" Carlos raises his voice. "Clark Kent is the most transparent person there is. The report, which was updated yesterday, is the latest."
"I know we all have our blind spots," Amanda oozes casually while purposely looking at Carlos' display showcasing Superman.
Carlos grunt laughs. "What's your? My error. What is the White House's concern here?"
"Hal Jordan was a United States military officer who is now in the employ of an alien world, intergalactic policy federation," she states. "And he has gone missing along with a Martian."
"Green Martian," Carlos corrects.
"Green Martian," Amanda mutters. "Why? What purpose? Is there any effect on America? Earth?"
Carlos leans back in his chair. "Don't know. Don't know. Don't know. And, don't know."
As Amanda Waller's eyes narrow toward Carlos, the upper right portion of Carlos' desk flashes red.
"What's that?" Amanda queries.
"Usually," Carlos says. "Nothing good."
"Am I being dismissed?" Amanda asks.
"Transparency, Amanda," he says tapping a part of his desk.
A three-dimensional hologram of a young man appears. He is attired in a similar black and white Watchtower uniform as Carlos.
"What's happening, Dan?" Carlos asks.
"Sir, a ship just appeared exactly one hundred miles off the moon. Near S.T.A.R."
"From where?" Carlos asks as Amanda moves to the edge of her chair.
"Don't know, sir," Dan reports. "There is no trail. It was not there one moment. There the next."
"You have a feed?" Carlos asks.
"Here, sir," Dan says as another three-dimensional hologram appears.
"Scale?" Carlos asks.
"As you can see, circular in shape," Dan states. "Circumference measures close to three thousand meters."
"Two miles," Amanda mouths in astonishment at Carlos.
"Communications with S.T.A.R.?" Carlos asks.
"Trying, but nothing yet," he responds.
Another part of Carlos' desk begins flashing.
"Keep trying to reach S.T.A.R.," he says. "Hold on." He taps another portion of his desk putting Dan on mute.
"Batman," Carlos states as the caped crusader's cowl-covered face appears.
"Anything on your end?" Batman's baritone voice asks.
"I assume you mean the ship. Nothing," Carlos responds. "I'm putting Watchtower on lockdown protocol B-one. I was about to contact you and the rest."
"I've notified Arthur and Barry. Have you heard from Clark or Diana?" Batman asks.
"No. Comms not going through or theirs not coming through," Carlos replies.
Batman grunts. "Me, Arthur and Barry will go directly to the S.T.A.R. facility," he says. "Stay on B-one. If anything comes up, contact me."
"You need backup?" Carlos asks.
"Not at this time," Batman says. "But have the Eagles ready to go."
"Confirmed," Carlos says. "Good fortune."
Batman's image disappears.
Carlos looks at Amanda Waller. "I don't know," he says anticipating her questions.
The ship hangs in space. It shows no signs of movement until venting exhaust can be seen from presumably the top and bottom of the orb-shaped ship.
"Kal?" Diana asks looking out of the S.T.A.R.'s moon lab window. "Braniac?"
"Don't know," Clark responds. "Scanning now. I may need to get closer to see better. That ship has a dense exterior. Steve, is the shield up over S.T.A.R.?"
"Yes," Dayton responds.
"What is it venting?" Diana asks.
"Look," says Professor Hamilton motioning the others to a monitor.
Clark and Diana hesitantly leave their viewpoint from the window.
"It's extending something. Top and bottom. Simultaneously," Hamilton points out on the monitor's live video feed of the alien ship.
"What the hell?" Dayton chimes in.
"It's not Braniac," Clark states.
"How do you know?" Diana asks.
"Those two straight, horizontal extensions on either end of the orb. Remind you of anything?" Clark asks.
"Of course," Emil says.
Diana looks wide-eyed at Clark. "Hal's ring. A Green Lanterns' ring."
Clark raises an eyebrow in agreement.
"So, we're not getting blown to kingdom come?" Dayton asks.
"Not at the moment," Clark responds walking over to a nearby wall housing a pad unit. He taps several buttons.
"Watchtower?"
Pause. Silence.
"Watchtower?" Clark repeats.
Clark hits several more buttons. "Batman?"
Pause. More silence.
Clark looks out of the window to the ship. "Is that on purpose or incidental?" he asks.
"Communications are good internally," Dayton says. "Everyone is commenting. Lot of scared folks."
Clark walks over to the window, Diana at his side. Victor rushes in through the door.
"What the hell?" Victor says. "You guy notice the ship and its shaped like…"
"…a Green Lantern ring," Diana finishes. "We noticed."
"Steve, put me on speaker," Clark says. He looks at Steve who gives him a nod.
"This is Clark Kent," he begins. "You have all undoubtedly seen what is hovering above us. Right now, we are going under the belief, this is a friendly. I repeat, a friendly. I understand how this is a scary proposition. But our world did not end when it confronted the reality of life beyond Earth over a century ago. Nor when we learned Martians were a real thing. It's not going to happen now. Together, we got this. Stay tuned for more information, and as hard as it is to do, resume what you were doing. Or, at least pretend you are. Thanks everybody."
Diana takes Clark's hand as Dayton cuts the audio feed.
The gigantic, bronze colored ship, in the shape of a Lantern ring, starts to emit pinpricks of light across its exterior.
"Now what?" Diana voices.
"We're receiving a transmission," Hamilton states.
Clark, Diana and Victor look over to Hamilton click-clacking upon a keyboard. The room is bombarded with a loud, momentary white static noise and then silence except the rapid, anxious breaths coming from Hamilton and Dayton.
"Superman, are you there?" a male's voice invades the room.
"Is this you? The vessel?" Clark asks.
"Yes," it says.
"You're from Oa," Clark states.
"Yes," the slightly, high-pitched voice answers. "We are in need of your services."
"Braniac?" Clark asks.
There is a pause. "You know of him?" the voice says.
"Hal Jordan? J'onn J'onnz? Where are they?" Clark asks.
"Jordan is on Oa. We believe J'onn J'onnz to be aboard Braniac's ship?"
"A prisoner?" Clark asks.
"Unknown," the voice.
"What do you mean, unknown?" Diana demands.
"Analyzing. Wonder Woman. Unknown, we know not his current state. Jordan reported J'onn J'onnz's last position to be on Braniac's ship."
"Hal wouldn't have left him there," Victor says.
"Victor Stone. He had little choice," the voice says.
"You breathe in similar manner to us, correct," Clark states.
"Yes. Why?" the voice says.
"Because we're coming aboard," Clark says. He motions Dayton to cut the comm feed.
"Anything?" Clark says looking to Victor.
"Big ship," Victor replies. "But I believe less than ten percent of it is habitable."
"Explain?" Hamilton asks.
"Don't get me wrong," Victor says. "That ten percent can comfortably hold a thousand individuals. I think the majority of that ship is how it was able to appear almost out of thin air. Space."
"Almost," Clark said. "Some form of interstellar travel. Greater than our own abilities. Yet, once again, is it coincidence they show up when we've reached an epiphany on our own interstellar capabilities?"
"Good question," Victor observes.
"Yeah," Clark smiles. "For another time. Right now, we need answers on Hal and J'onn. You, me and Diana to the ship. You two watch over S.T.A.R."
Dayton and Hamilton nod affirmative to Clark's direction.
"Speaking of," Steve asks. "What of Watchtower? Earth? We're still not getting a connection."
"We'll address that with our, friends," Clark says.
Diana looks to Clark. "We should change clothes," she says.
Lois looked at Clark. "Take a gander at you. That's some outfit."
Clark, wearing his Kryptonian suit, stood in Lois' apartment. The snow had yet to abate outside. It made it easier for Clark to fly to an apartment he was renting several miles away. And make his way back in Kryptonian attire without detection.
"So, will the world look at me with fear or hope?" Clark asked.
"That is the question, isn't it?" Lois said. "You know as well as me, Clark. Fear and humanity go hand-in-hand. Trust is so hard to gain. So easy, quick to lose."
Clark moved over towards the apartment window. He cared very little if someone should happen to look up through Lois' open window drapes. Irony being that he could see everything in front of him. Through pretty much anything, except lead. X-rays, a component of his vision, did not work well with lead constructions.
Lois shifted towards and sat down on the couch. "I learned less than an hour ago that beings from other planets exist," she said. "And not just exist, but have, super powers."
Clark laughed. He removed his cape and sat down in the recliner chair opposite Lois.
"What's so funny?" Lois asked. She swung her hand out motioning for Clark to let her touch the cape. He made a couple of folds and handed it to her.
"Super," Clark said. "Something my mother said."
"Martha Kent?" confirmed Lois marveling at the cape's texture in her lap.
"Yes," Clark replied.
"Clark," Lois said. "Just the idea you want to help the world is a statement in of itself. You could do anything you wanted. Anything. And your choice is benevolence."
"You say it like I'm to rule the world, Lois," Clark said.
"The powers you have," Lois observed. "Who could stop you?"
Clark bristled at the notion. He grabbed one of the loose candy bars, twiddling it between his fingers. "What are your thoughts on this Wonder Woman? You believe it?"
"I was hesitant to," Lois said. "And now, you. Are you related?"
Clark opened his mouth, and contemplated. "I was quick to think, no," he uttered. "Could she be Kryptonian? The powers Pete witnessed, reported on. I don't know. I've been led to believe there may be a ship of Kryptonians out there. Thirty years ago. But, what's more intriguing, Lois, a relation to Wonder Woman or no relation?"
"And are there more?" Lois questioned.
"Questions I am still attempting to answer," Clark said. "My life is about to change irrevocably. I'm aware of that. How do I navigate what is to come?"
"That's impossible to answer," Lois said. "Clark, you are such an outlier to not only this country, but this world. There is no before you to draw upon. This Wonder Woman came and went. Why? She hasn't been seen in over a year."
"She was an inspiration to get me to this point," Clark said. "Bad, horrific things happen when people, who have the power to make a change, choose not to act."
"You have to ask yourself to what end?" Lois said. "You can't stop death. You won't be able to save everyone."
"Nice pep talk," Clark responded.
"Clark," Lois said with a hint of sadness.
"I'm joking," he said. "I get what you're saying."
Lois smiled. "I'm piling on now, but you have to expect there will be resentment. Why were you there instead of here? My, insert family member, is dead because you failed to save him. Her. Them."
Lois could see how much of this was weighing down upon Clark. "I'm not helping, am I?"
Clark floated up out of the chair. He noticed Lois's open mouth amazement. She slowly shook her head back and forth still reconciling in her mind what her eyes were witnessing.
"To the contrary, Lois," Clark said. "Talking about this has helped me. The bottom line being, in for a penny, in for a pound. Yet. Yet, reconcile the fact, not the opinion, that I cannot be everywhere all the time. My parents, all four, would not want that for me. I don't want that for myself."
"The demand on you will be great," Lois said. "Once opened, you can't put that genie back in the bottle."
"I can save lives," Clark said. "Is there a price too great to pay for that?"
"A regular superman you are," Lois said.
"What did you say?" Clark barely believed his ears.
"A superman. Superman," Lois repeated in softer tone. "Clark, everyone will see the S on your chest. Wonder Woman. Super Man. It's perfect."
"The two women in my life and they both come up with the same nickname," Clark stated.
"Your mother, Martha, you mean?" Lois asked with trepidation and a hint of jealousy.
Clark smiled looking away and then back to Lois. "Yeah."
"Good," Lois grinned. "So, we both came up with Superman?" Lois queried. "It's perfect. Perfect name."
"Not pretentious?" Clark asked.
"You didn't give it to yourself, Clark. The two women in your life have," Lois said with a lingering look at Clark.
He smiled finishing off a bite of the candy bar.
"Your Kryptonian knowledge?" Lois asked.
"Yeah?" Clark responded.
"Could it better Earth? Advancements? Cure diseases?"
"I don't want to turn Earth into Krypton," Clark stated. "Should there be a crisis, here on this planet, where resolution can only be found in Krypton history and knowledge, then I will do what I must. But, it's not absolute, Lois. I cannot solve all Earth problems via Krypton. Medically, our physiologies are just different enough that many of the diseases that Earth humans are afflicted with were never present on Krypton. As of today. Now. I'm here to be a cog in history, not its wheel."
"That sounds like a statement you've thought about. I appreciate the sentiment. I truly do. I just don't know if the world will allow you to stick with it," Lois said.
"I know. My eyes are open," Clark replied. "The world can be an ugly place. A demanding place. I hope to bring some light to that darkness."
So where do you start?" Lois asked.
Clark smiled.
On Sunday, January 4, 1920, the world was introduced to Kal-el of Krypton. His picture, in full Kryptonian attire, was prominently displayed on the front page of the "Daily Planet" newspaper under the headline, "FEAR NOT, SUPERMAN IS HERE." His story, written by Lois Lane and vetted by none other than the publisher/head editor, Perry White himself, took up the remainder of the front page and two more pages inside.
Clark realized he could not reside in a populated area. He assigned Kelex the task of finding them a place he could operate out of while also being a place of respite from the world's demands upon him. Kelex's idea and blueprints seemed a little extreme to Clark, but in a non-stop work span of two weeks, Clark constructed what Kelex deemed a Fortress of Solitude in a nowhere area of Antarctica. Clark was able to redirect warmth from hydrothermal vents in order for some semblance of human comfortability at the Fortress. The Fortress would become a never-ending project for Clark as he would constantly add and improve.
Martha and Jonathan Kent remained on their farm despite the onslaught of journalists, government officials, film and radio executives, religious faithful and charlatans descending upon them. Superman, however, made it clear in no uncertain interpretations that his family was off-limits. He placed one of his satellites in line of solely Smallville with his family farm at the epicenter of its watch. He gave his parents a device that when used, he would be there in Superman-time. Additionally, the people of Smallville took it upon themselves to shield not only the Kents, but also their small town from overzealous individuals.
Did those measures always stop the bad individuals? No, but Clark Kent, son of Martha and Jonathan Kent, did.