Lois had offered her home up to her father during this operation. Though she could tell now that he knew how she felt about him, he had his reservations.
Her father stayed outside the front door for a minute instructing the guards in the hall.
"This is your apartment?" Clark asked in surprise.
"Not up to your standards?" she asked with sarcasm. "I would have thought that this would seem like the Taj Mahal after your last living quarters."
"I just mean I've seen fancier places owned by the upper middle class. A millionaire would snub his nose at this apartment and your ex is a billionaire."
"Ollie has sunk a good portion of his funds into land in his effort to mine kryptonite. I also prefer to live simply, and he knew that. Besides which, you'd be surprised just how much it costs to live in a part of the city not overridden with crime though one could have argued whether any part of the city was safe with you in it."
"Okay, okay, I get it. You can stop with the verbal tongue lashing now."
The general walked in, looking at them with some suspicion as if he'd expected to catch them necking.
"Well, Luthor, you get the guest bedroom tonight. You won't leave that room for any reason without permission unless you want a bullet through your head. We'll discuss strategy tonight, and tomorrow, you make contact. Any questions?"
"Yeah, where's the bathroom?"
He rolled his eyes and muttered as he pushed him in its general direction.
Lois had decided to lock her own self up in her room long before Clark started being his usual irritating self. She had to focus on the reason for his being here: to save the world from an alien invasion. Besides, if prison hadn't caused him to take stock of his life, what could? She had to emotionally distance herself before she got involved again though maybe it was already too late on that score.
sss
"You be certain to tell them in no uncertain terms that we're not to be trifled with," Sam said, giving him parting instructions though they'd been over this a thousand times already.
"I thought this was a move for peace."
"It is, but I know people like them."
He cocked his head at this, sure they were an anomaly, other than himself, of course.
"It doesn't matter, Luthor, whether they're from this planet or another one. I've studied war enough to know this: when one group of people decides another group of people is weak, those people get stomped on. And my son-in-law-"
"Ex-son-in-law," he felt the need to point out.
"Has found enough kryptonite to blow them all back where they came from," he said, ignoring his interjection entirely.
"I'll keep that in mind. You can relax. I learned the art of negotiating at my father's knee. This whole thing will be a breeze."
"It better be, or you'll find yourself back in your cell so fast, you'll think you had superspeed again."
He was a hard man, not as hard as his father had been, but hard. Maybe he did share more with Lois than he thought. The difference was behind his emotional distant behavior, he loved his child. Lionel didn't have the first clue what paternal love was. "Trust me, General Lane. We want the same thing."
Sam had driven him up to the headquarters of the Kryptonians though he didn't go with him. They both figured he would have better luck if they talked alien-to-alien.
Still, he wasn't sure whether he would be greeted with hostility or friendship despite his heritage.
"Freeze, human, if you value your life."
He did, and fear rose up. It was still such a new feeling, this awareness of his fragility. Life had never been fragile, minus the brushes with kryptonite. How did humans do this everyday, live knowing it might be their last? Maybe they were stronger species.
It was then that Clark noted the man in the doorway of the fortress, holding a gun. Why did he need a gun if they could blast people with their eyes? He began to laugh.
This puzzled the man. "Is there a problem?"
"No problem. I just realized you couldn't possibly be Kryptonian. You have no powers."
"I'm Kryptonian all the same, but how would you know about having powers?" he asked with suspicion, but Clark noted that he lowered his weapon.
"Because I am Kryptonian."
"You couldn't be. Could you?' he asked, looking at him more closely though it was impossible to discern from appearance alone.
"I could be. And I thought I was the only survivor. How are you here?"
"Come in," he asked, looking behind him and checking to see if he'd been followed. "Let's talk."
It was as he'd been told. There was a whole group of them, and they were all looking at him, which was fair, because he was looking at them too.
"I don't get it. There's so many of you. How have you gotten here after all these years? Why don't any of you have powers?"
"We are clones of Kryptonians," the man still wielding the gun answered. "The scientist who oversaw our creation decided to protect the weakling Earthlings even as he ensured Krypton's legacy. Our DNA was manipulated so that don't have any powers under a yellow sun. What about you? Prove you're Kryptonian."
"I can't," he said, ashamed. "They fused my DNA with blue kryptonite. I am as one of them."
"They may have suppressed your powers, but you're not one of them, brother. We have a plan to turn the sun from yellow to red. Our reversed genes will thrive under it, and our powers will awaken. Will you join us?"
They awaited his answer. What could he say but, "Yes."