Home IV: Honeymoon

by Nan Smith

Part 4 of the Home series; Lori and Clark investigate campus drug murders while settling into their new marriage.

2. Chapter 2

Clark was returning from the site of an aircar accident, his flight
taking him directly over the grounds of New Troy State University
when he heard Meriel's scream, not only in his ears but in his mind.
Instantly, he changed course to zero in on the cry. He saw her
groundcar lurch drunkenly across the street, nearly sideswipe a
second car, the collision prevented only by the other vehicle's
automatic defenses, and swooped down to seize the erratically weaving
vehicle.

Inside, he could see Meriel, her face white with panic and tears
flooding down her face.

"Meri!" he shouted. "It's all right! Take your foot off the accelerator!"

His voice must have startled her out of her shock, for the engine
ceased its roaring, and she collapsed forward over the steering
wheel, her shoulders shaking. Clark brought the car to a stop at the
side if the road. The door was locked, and for an instant, he
considered the wisdom of tearing it from its hinges, then thought
better of it.

"Meri, unlock the door," he told her. "It's all right. You're safe."

It took several repetitions for the message to get across, but at
last, she obeyed. Clark pulled the door open and had to catch her as
she flung herself into his arms.

"Easy there. It's all right," he told her. She was trembling, and
he could hear her heart pounding furiously. Something had happened,
all right, but she was too shaken to answer him coherently at first.
"You're safe. What happened?"

"He tried to kidnap me," she gasped out finally.

"*What?* Who?"

"Him! The guy in the parking lot! I hit him with my car."

Clark hadn't seen anyone in the parking lot, but he hadn't really
been looking. He slipped an arm under her knees and the other behind
her back and lifted off from the street. An instant later they were
hovering over the lot, but there was no sign of Meriel's attacker.

"There's no one here now," he said. "What happened?"

She stammered out enough to give him some idea of what had occurred,
and he scanned the area where her groundcar had been parked with his
enhanced vision.

"Drops of blood," he said. "He was here, but he isn't anymore." He
examined his great, great, granddaughter's face. The pupils of her
eyes were dilated widely. "Are you all right, Meri? What's the
matter with your eyes?"

She closed them and dropped her head on his shoulder. "He fired a
stunner at me. I was in the car." She gagged slightly. "I feel a
little sick."

That explained her erratic driving. "Just keep your eyes closed and
take some deep breaths," he directed her. "You'll feel better in a
few minutes."

"Okay." Her voice sounded muffled.

"I'm going to take you to the Daily Planet," he said. "We can come
back for your car later. Just hold still and breathe."

She inhaled deeply, obviously trying to regain control of her
stomach. "Thanks, Grandpa Clark," she said. "I...I guess I
shouldn't have called you. I should have called the police, but I
didn't even think of it. I just screamed for you."

"I'm glad you did," Clark said, soberly, "even if you didn't mean to.
But it looks like you did pretty well on your own."

She shivered. "It was like it was somebody else doing those things,"
she said. "Then, when I got away, I just fell apart."

"That's not surprising," he said. "You did fine. It's almost like
old times, isn't it?"

Meriel's giggle was half-hysterical, but it told him that she was
recovering from the shock and the stun beam. "Yeah, it is." She
took another deep breath. "It seems like you were always getting me
out of trouble when I was little."

"Well, yes. *How* many times did I pull you out of trees or something?"

"I lost count." Another deep breath. "My stomach's starting to feel
a little better."

"You didn't get much of the charge. Just take it easy. It'll wear
off pretty quickly."

He made the flight through the air as smooth as possible. After a
few minutes, she sighed and raised her head. Her complexion was
still pale, but her eyes looked normal again. "I feel better."

"Good. I'd hate to have you throw up all over my Suit."

"It wouldn't look very good for Superman, would it?" Meriel agreed.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm awfully glad
you're back, Grandpa Clark. I've missed you."

"I missed you, too," he said. "I'm sorry I left like that."

"You were looking for her, weren't you?" she asked. "Your soulmate.
Like in the story you told me when I was little."

"You remember that?" Clark asked, a little surprised. "You were barely three!"

She nodded, careful not to move her head suddenly. "Of course I do.
*Were* you?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"And all along she was here in Metropolis."

"Well, not really, but that's where I found her." He regarded her
soberly. "We always knew you had my Kryptonian telepathic ability,
like your dad, Meri. You have the photographic memory too, don't
you?"

"Yeah," she said. "I don't need dream dust to pass tests. I wish I
could have given it to Rena."

"So do I," he said. "We're going to catch whoever's distributing
this stuff, Meri. That's a promise, and I think you can help us even
more than you already have."

"How?"

"The guy that tried to kidnap you. Do you think you could describe
him to an artist?"

"I guess so," Meriel said. "What artist?"

"Me," Clark said.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "I didn't think. You used to draw all those
pictures for me when I was a kid."

"I still can," Clark said. "We'll try it when we get to the Planet."

**********

When Clark and Meriel finished talking, there was a silence around
the table in Conference Room 1. John's face was ashen, and he seemed
unable to form words for the moment. Lori, ever curious, fastened
upon one aspect of the story.

"Meriel, you and your dad have Clark's telepathy. You could have
called for help, and the guy would never have known. Why didn't you?"

Meriel looked a little embarrassed. "I never even thought of it.
As kids, we were always taught that trying to read the minds of our
relatives is bad manners. I'll sure remember it next time, though."

"There's not going to be a next time," John said. He looked grim.
"Clark, I don't care what you and Lori have to do, but I want this
guy caught. And Meriel, you and I are going to practice thinking at
each other. You're not a little girl anymore. It's time you got
used to using it-- just in case."

"Okay," Meriel said. "I'm sorry, Dad. I really messed up, I guess."

"No, you didn't," Clark said. "You stayed alive, and that's the
important part. Meriel and I are going to try to draw this guy,
John. She got a good look at him, so we'll see if we can produce a
good enough picture to try an identification."

"When you get the picture drawn, give it to me," Lori said. "I
managed to get into the University's files through the Clarion's
computer." She smiled, feeling quite pleased with herself.
"Somebody forgot to change the password since I was the editor. If
you can give me a fairly good drawing, I can have the comp compare it
to the pictures in the records. We might find a match if he's a
student there."

"Check out the roster of instructors, too," Clark said. "He might be
a TA. Meri did say there's this 'Professor' who might be involved.
You never know."

"That's a scary thought," John said, "although not entirely unprecedented."

**********

Lori was cross-checking the schedules of the six students whose names
Meriel had supplied, when Fred approached her desk. Lori ignored the
copy boy. Ever since the day he had made the mistake of accusing her
of sleeping with her partner, the two had maintained a sort of armed
truce, but Lori was well aware that Fred regarded her as the enemy.
Fred stood still, watching her expressionlessly, then he smirked.
"Didn't take him long, did it?" he asked.

"Huh?" The remark was genuinely confusing. "What the dickens are
you talking about?"

"Your partner." He nodded at the conference room, where Clark and
Meriel could be seen in deep conversation. "I guess he got tired of
you, didn't he? Not that I blame him."

Lori looked incredulously at Fred for a long moment, then burst into
laughter. "Fred, go pester somebody else before I tell Mr. Olsen
what you're saying about his daughter!"

Fred had obviously not expected her reaction. He stared at her for
several seconds, then turned and walked away. Lori snickered to
herself. She had his number, now. Routing Fred was going to be
something she enjoyed. The office boy was crafty and certainly
capable of holding a grudge, but he was neither imaginative nor
particularly bright, and when she had the opportunity to arrange it,
he was going to meet his Waterloo. She had a number of things to
settle with him, and she was definitely going to let him know who was
boss. Why she had ever let the pathetic little weasel upset her was
a mystery to her now. The fact that Clark Kent, a man so incredibly
superior to Fred that there could be no comparison, had fallen in
love with her and married her outright had been a tremendous boost to
her self-confidence, and she found that because of it, Fred's barbs
had no power to hurt her.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," Clark's voice said in her ear.

She looked around and up at him, and he surprised her by bending down
to kiss her squarely on her half-open mouth. Someone cheered, and
there was a patter of applause. Clark straightened up and grinned
unrepentantly. "Okay, everyone, now that we have your attention, I'd
like to make a short announcement," he said. He waited until the
slightly surprised murmur died down and continued, " I'm very happy
to announce that Lori and I were married day before yesterday." He
reached down and held up Lori's hand to display the wedding ring on
her finger. Lori felt herself blushing as applause rippled over the
room, but she couldn't restrain a smile.

"All *right* Clark!" someone shouted.

Again, Clark waited until the noise died away. "We'll be holding a
Traditional ceremony for the benefit of friends and family in
October," he continued, "but we thought we should let everyone here
know. Okay, that's it. As you were." He bent down and added softly
in Lori's ear, "That should take the wind out of Fred's sails."

"You heard?" she asked. "Wait, what am I thinking. Of course you heard."

"Yes, and you handled him perfectly," he said. "I just thought I'd
add my two cents."

Andrea Waltham drifted up to Lori's desk and looked Clark over
wistfully. "Oh, well," she said, "I tried. Nice catch, honey. As
for you, Clark, you better treat her right." She winked suggestively
at Lori and glided away, leaving the pair of them staring after her
in astonishment.

"I hate to think what that means," Lori said.

"You know perfectly well what it means," Clark said, with a grin.
"But, since it already runs parallel to what I was thinking..."

"Behave yourself!" Lori said, trying not to giggle. "Did you and
Meriel manage to produce that drawing?"

"As a matter of fact, we did. Here you go." He presented her with a
sheet of printer paper with the face of a handsome young man sketched
clearly on it.

"Wow," Lori remarked. "Meriel's got a great memory."

"Photographic," Clark said, very softly in her ear.. "And my being
able to see the picture in her mind when she's thinking hard about
something helps. Will this do for your project?"

"It better. Let me scan it and we'll let the comp do its magic,"
Lori said. "How's Meriel doing?"

"Better. She's tougher than she looks."

"I guess that would follow. She's your descendent. If we get a
match, what do we do?"

"Research on his background for starters, and after that we'll do
what seems appropriate, depending on what we find."

**********

It was approximately ten minutes later that she saw Clark lift his
head and then make the flying signal to her. She nodded and watched
him hurry out of the newsroom. A moment later, John exited his
office, headed for the elevator. At her desk, he paused. "Where's
Clark?"

"He left a few minutes ago," she said, making the same signal Clark
had made. John nodded.

"Okay. I've got a lunch meeting with the suits upstairs, if anyone
asks. When Clark gets back, you can tell him that we've got a lead
on the last piece of jewelry. Some guy named Gerald Smitt bought it.
He was a geology teacher over at Metro City College, but he's changed
apartments and jobs, so we're still trying to get his new location.
Shouldn't be long, now."

"Clark will be glad to hear that," Lori said.

John smiled slightly. "Gotta run. Meriel's in my office. She
mentioned wanting to get her car back pretty soon, before Campus
Security issues her a citation. She and Clark sort of left it by the
side of the road, earlier. You might tell Clark, if you see him
before I do."

"Okay," Lori said. "Have a good lunch."

When John left, Lori leaned back in her chair and stretched. The
computer was still working and for the present, she had nothing to
do. After a moment, she stood up and headed for the editor's office.

Meriel Olsen answered her knock, and rather shyly invited her in.
This was the first time they had had the chance to get acquainted
without the presence of John and Clark. Lori hesitated, almost
changing her mind. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No. To tell you the truth, I'm a little bored. Dad doesn't want me
to go anywhere I might usually go, at least not alone. He's afraid
something will happen to me."

"That sounds familiar," Lori said. "We were on stakeouts the last
couple of weeks, and Clark was worried about leaving me alone the
whole time."

The two young women laughed together. "That sounds like Clark,"
Meriel said. "Gra--Clark used to regularly get me out of trouble
when I was a kid, and lecture me about it afterwards. I could tell
you stories you wouldn't believe."

"Oh, I don't know," Lori said, recalling some of the events in her
life for the past few weeks. "I might. Why did he have to get you
out of trouble so much?"

Meriel shrugged. "I liked to fly with him, so I was always climbing
things. Once I got stuck on the roof of our church. One of the
choirboys--an older kid named Billy Stevens-- dared me to do it and
naturally, I couldn't back down. I was about seven."

Lori giggled. "Of course you couldn't," she said. She was beginning
to like Meriel. "So, how did you get down?"

"Clark got me down," she said. "Naturally he couldn't do it as
Superman, because Superman wasn't supposed to be around then, but he
'climbed' up and back down with me hanging on piggyback. Actually,
he was flying and I knew it, but no one else did. Then Dad got hold
of me and I lost my vid privileges for a week, but flying with Clark
was worth it."

"I'd think so," Lori said, wondering what it would be like, growing
up as a non-super child in a family where many of the adults could
fly. "Didn't you ever feel cheated, not being able to fly, yourself?"

"Sometimes," Meriel said. "But neither of my brothers could fly,
either, and neither could Dad or Mom. Uncle Aaron and Aunt Carrie
sometimes took us flying, but that wasn't the same thing. After
Henry and his sisters started to fly, it was a little different. I
envied them for a long time, but I really felt sorry for Edward."

"Who's Edward?" Lori asked, feeling a little bewildered.

"Oh, I forgot, you haven't met most of the family, yet," Meriel said.
"Edward is my cousin. He's thirty, and he's the only one of Uncle
Aaron's kids who doesn't have super powers. He was pretty
disappointed for a long time, but he finally got over it."

"Poor kid," Lori said. "That would be awful!"

"Well, he's a research scientist now," Meriel said. "He's smarter
than all the rest of us put together, except maybe Clark. He also
races aircars in his spare time and holds some kind of amateur title.
I think he's making up for it in his own way, to tell you the truth.
Anyway, I liked flying with Clark most of all. He'd fly with us
sometimes, but he was really careful not to be seen. All of us kids
were crazy about him. He actually enjoyed playing with us, not just
pretending like some people do. I think he really loves children."

Lori hesitated again, wondering whether she should ask the question.
"Do you think he'd like more kids of his own, someday? I do, in a
few years, but I know he's already been through it, once."

"I think he'd love it," Meriel said, at once. "If there's one thing
Clark really enjoys, it's children. Why do you think he always
volunteers at those Christmas charity things every year? It's so he
can play with the underprivileged kids and make them feel special for
a day. In some ways, I think he's a big kid at heart."

"That sounds like Clark, all right," Lori said. Her stomach chose
that moment to growl and she laughed. "I'm hungry, and I bet you
are, too. Let's go get some lunch, and you can tell me more about
the family I've married into."

"What I'd really like to do is go get my car before Campus Security
tows it," Meriel said, "but Dad doesn't want me to. Do you suppose
Clark could take us? We could go to lunch afterwards. I *am*
hungry."

"He's out on some kind of emergency," Lori said. "Look, why don't we
go get it, ourselves? Nobody's going to bother the two of us
together. Then we can drop in down at Mamacita's, if you like
Mexican food, and I can tell you what happened the first time Clark
tried to take me there. We can leave a note for Clark and John."

**********

Lori and Meriel descended the elevator to the lobby and exited out
onto the street. It was just noon and the sky was a bright blue with
tiny clouds dotting it. Meriel glanced at Lori, assessing her
beloved Grandfather Clark's new wife. Lori was a beautiful girl, she
thought, not very tall, but athletic and slim, exactly as Meriel had
always dreamed of looking. Her eyes and hair were very dark brown,
almost black, and her eyelashes... Meriel sighed, aware of a slight
touch of envy. She had to wear false eyelashes to achieve that look,
but she could tell right away that Lori's were real. If she hadn't
been so nice, Meriel could cheerfully have hated her, but she didn't.
For one thing, Clark was obviously crazy about her, and it would have
made him unhappy to think that Meriel disliked Lori. For another,
Meriel just liked her. Lori was smart and friendly, and obviously
trying hard to help find the persons responsible for putting Rena in
the hospital.

Lori glanced at her wrist. "Darn!"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing important. I just keep forgetting. My wrist talker's
at the repair shop as of this morning, in critical condition."

"What happened to it?" Meriel asked.

Lori grimaced. "Would you believe the strap came apart and it fell
off in Clark's microwave oven? I didn't even notice it until I came
back to take out the oatmeal."

"Ouch," Meriel said. "That couldn't have been good for it. It
sounds like it would be less expensive to just get another one."

"Not exactly; it's kind of special. My brother, Brad, gave it to me
for my twenty-first birthday. Anyway, Clark thinks they can repair
it, but until then I'm without a chronometer."

"And a wrist talker," Meriel said. "I don't have one either. I was
going to pick mine up from the shop this afternoon, after my English
exam. The guy in the parking lot kind of messed up my plans for the
day."

"We can do it after we get your car, I guess," Lori said. "It's too
bad we haven't got better transportation, though. We'll just have to
use the slidewalk. It won't take too long."

"I guess there's no reason for Clark to have a car," Meriel agreed.
"I never thought about it before."

"No, and I haven't gotten one yet," Lori said. "Oh, well, walking's
healthy, I guess. Where is your car, exactly?"

"Not far from the English department," Meriel said, "on 'H' Street.
Clark put it on the shoulder of the road, just opposite the statue of
the Founder."

"I hope the pigeons don't carry it off," Lori observed dryly. Meriel laughed.

"It's a subcompact, so they might," she said. "I just hope whoever
that guy was, he's not watching the car, waiting for me to come back."

"He's probably sitting somewhere with an ice pack on his nose," Lori
said. "I never heard of anyone using their computer for self
defense, but that was really smart."

"It was all I could think of," Meriel said. "I took a class in
women's self defense for physical education, but I never really
expected to use it."

""Well, it was a good thing you did," Lori said. "Whoever is behind
this, they must have overheard you asking questions and gotten
worried."

"That's what I figured," Meriel said. "If someone is dealing on
campus, though, why would he worry about someone like me asking
questions? I'm not a cop or anything."

"I don't know," Lori said. "It makes you wonder if there's something
more behind it than just people dealing dream dust. Where were you
asking the questions, anyway? Was there anyone around who could have
overheard you?"

"I don't know," Meriel said. "I asked questions at the dorm, I know.
I was trying to find out about Pete Bremerton, the guy they took out
last Monday. I talked to my friends in the ER, after Rena was
admitted there, too. I guess someone could have been listening."

"Maybe," Lori said. "Who did you talk to at the dorm?"

Meriel thought about it. "I talked to his roommate, and a couple of
other students who were in his geology class with him. Nobody wanted
to talk about it, really."

"I guess that doesn't surprise me," Lori said.

"No, I didn't really expect any answers," Meriel admitted. "You
don't suppose one of them might have told whoever is distributing
this stuff that I was asking questions, do you?"

"Maybe. When was this?"

"Last night, after I got back from Dad's. Nobody knows where Pete is
or what happened to him--at least no one will tell me if they do
know."

"Do they know what happened to Rena?"

"Probably. The paramedics weren't exactly subtle when they came in.
You know: big flashing blue light and a siren that could be heard six
blocks away. They woke up the whole dorm."

"Yeah." Lori was looking thoughtful. "I wonder if it would do any
good to look around his room at this point."

"I don't know," Meriel said. Was Lori really advocating that they
sneak into Pete's room without permission? Still, Mel, his roommate,
wasn't being very forthcoming with answers. Maybe they could find
something. "His stuff's probably been taken out by now, but we could
try."

Lori raised an eyebrow at her in an exact imitation of Clark.
"Maybe, and maybe his roommate knows more than he's saying, too."

"Yeah, I guess he might. Somebody must have told on me. It could
have been him."

"Unless it was just a random carjacking attempt, and it didn't sound
like it. Do you want to take the risk?"

Meriel hesitated. If they got caught, they could be in trouble but
if they found something that could lead them to whoever had sold Rena
the dream dust, it might be worth it. Besides, if someone came in,
she could make some sort of excuse about having lost something last
night while she was there. "Sure. What do we do?"

"You can still get into the dorm, can't you?"

"Sure. I don't have to check out until Saturday, actually. Exams
are still going on through tomorrow."

"Okay. After we pick up your car, here's what we'll do..."

**********

The little, red groundcar pulled into the dorm's parking lot and
Meriel Olsen cut the engine. It was nearly one o'clock in the
afternoon, and here and there students hurried along the University's
paths and slidewalks, or lounged on the emerald green lawns, shaded
by the leafy trees dotting the greensward. Some had their recorders,
portable computers and electronic books spread out around them as
they studied for exams, others were simply enjoying the early
afternoon sunshine, and one or two slept, stretched out on the grass
oblivious to the occasional gnats and bees buzzing about the area.
The air was warm, but not too warm, the sun was high in the sky and
little white cirrus clouds dotted the blue expanse. It was a perfect
day.

Lori and Meriel left the car and walked briskly toward the doors of
the shabby, white building where Meriel had lived for nearly a year.

Lori glanced around, grimacing at the plain, utilitarian hallway as
they hurried toward the stairwell. She had lived in another dorm
very like this one for three years until last June, when she had
graduated and the most exciting part of her young life had begun.
The big, uncurtained windows let in the afternoon sun, and she could
smell the familiar scents of the dorms--the faint aroma of cooking
food drifting in from somewhere, the smell of the commercial
disinfectant solution the cleaning staff used to wash the floors and
the sharp, over-perfumed odor of cheap floor wax. It was amazing,
she thought irrelevantly, how familiar they were, although when she
had lived in her dorm she had never before been consciously aware of
them.

"My room is on the third floor," Meriel said. "Pete's is on the second."

"Okay," Lori said. "Lead on."

They took the stairs to the second floor. The first floor hall had
been nearly deserted; many students had already departed to enjoy the
short vacation time left to them before the start of the new session,
some were taking finals, and others were in their rooms, cramming for
their upcoming tests. Many were simply outside, enjoying the warm,
summer day. Meriel and Lori emerged onto the second floor and stood
for a moment, taking in the situation.

This corridor was completely deserted. Here and there, a door gaped
open, and Lori could hear the hum of a computer and an occasional
voice as students talked, or listened to recorded lectures.
Somewhere, a soap opera was playing. Lori recognized her mother's
favorite, a long-running drama to which she had been subjected every
summer for as long as she could remember, and grimaced. "The Lonely
Road" held no interest for her, although Mariann had practically
identified with Inga and her numerous marital troubles a couple of
summers ago.

"This is it," Meriel said, softly. They had paused before a closed
door, halfway down the hall. Lori held up crossed fingers, raised
her fist and rapped sharply on the panel.

Silence greeted them. Lori knocked a second time and they waited,
glancing hopefully at each other, but no one came.

"Looks like no one is there," Meriel said.

"Okay, stand behind me in case someone comes," Lori said.

The locks in the dorm weren't electronic. The University never
spared money for anything they didn't have to when it came to student
housing, and the ancient dorms had been there for at least fifty
years, subject to various repairs and innovations. The cheap,
mechanical locks were a cinch for anyone who had taken the minimum
time to figure out how to open them, as Lori had the first year of
her residency here. A long, twisted wire, a minute spent feeling
around for the tumblers and the shear point, and she applied pressure
in the correct place, aligning the two. There was a click.

"Wow," Meriel said. "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Lori said. "I always wanted to be an investigative
reporter, and that sometimes means getting in where they don't want
you. Come on." She eased the door open silently, and they slipped
inside.

There were two beds in the room, one unmade and the other with the
bedding carelessly pulled up to cover the pillow. The spread dragged
on the floor and several electronic books, a stack of computer disks
and half of a somewhat desiccated cheese sandwich adorned the upper
surface.

Meriel made a face. "That was there, last night when I talked to
Mel," she said, indicating the sandwich.

"I guess Mel didn't sleep there, then," Lori said, stepping over a
soda can that lay on its side on the floor. "Or, at least I hope he
didn't. Check the dressers for starters."

Both dressers had clothing in them, but nothing unusual emerged.
Meriel dug in the closets and under a pile of dirty laundry there
without results.

"This place is a pig sty," Lori observed, feeling under the mattress
of the half-made bed and then under the box springs. "Nothing here."
She proceeded to the other bed and treated it in a like manner.
"Nothing...wait." She knelt, feeling under the end of the bed.
There was something here, although it was probably just a discarded
bag of fast food or something, judging from the condition of the rest
of the room. It was stuffed up under the box springs, and difficult
to reach, but at last she managed to grasp it with the tips of her
fingers and wiggle it loose.

A small, wadded-up paper bag emerged. In some disappointment, Lori
opened it and looked inside. In the bottom, folded up, was a plastic
bag, half full of a fine, greyish powder. She regarded it for a
moment, then unsealed the bag, took a tiny pinch of the substance
between her thumb and forefinger and carefully resealed it. The only
container she had available was a little metal box in the bottom of
her purse that had contained cold pills, but it would do. She found
it, dusted the greyish power into it and snapped it shut.

Dropping it into her bag, she turned. "Meriel, look at this."

Meriel emerged from the bathroom where she had been searching the
medicine cabinet, and hurried to her side. "What is it?"

Lori held up the bag. "Look. Is this what I think it is?"

The taller girl examined the plastic bag. "It might be," she said.
"It sure looks like it."

Lori replaced the plastic bag inside the paper one, closed it and
shoved it back into the springs as close to where she had found it as
she could get it. "So they have dream dust here in the room--if
that's what this stuff is. I suppose it might be Pete's, but that's
an awful lot of dust for one person. Do you suppose one of them was
selling it?"

"Maybe. Which means either Pete or Mel might know the supplier,"
Meriel said. "We've got to find out where Pete was taken. If he's
still alive and able to communicate, we might be able to identify
who's behind this."

They grinned at each other. "In the meantime, let's get out of
here," Lori said. "I think we've pushed our luck about as far as we
should."

"I'm with you there, girlfriend," Meriel said. "Let's go."

At the door, they paused, listening. Footsteps were approaching, and
as they waited, the sounds stopped just outside. A man's voice said:
"I've got some on hand. Wait here and..." The voice broke off.
"That's funny, the door's not locked."

Meriel's eyes met Lori's, agonized. The panel swung open. A thin,
blond man stared at them in shock. "What are you two doing here?" he
demanded.

**********

When Clark returned to the Daily Planet, he glanced automatically at
Lori's desk, but she wasn't there. As yet unperturbed, he looked
around the room and in the editor's office and conference rooms, but
there was no sign of Lori or Meriel, and he couldn't hear her
heartbeat anywhere in the building.

Fred went past, a box of doughnuts in his hands. Clark debated for
an instant, and hailed him. "Hey, Fred, do you know where Lori went?"

"Nope." The copy boy continued on his way.

Clark glanced around. Andrea Waltham was working at her computer,
frowning slightly in concentration. "Andrea, where did Lori go? Do
you know?"

The gossip columnist looked up. "She and Ms. Olsen left about an
hour ago, I think. Lori said she left you a note on your desk."

"Thanks." Clark returned to his desk, but a brief search confirmed
that there was no note. Well, maybe Meriel had left one for her
father. He scanned the editor's office, but nothing resembling a
note was to be seen. That was odd. He tried to consider the
situation objectively. If the two of them had left together, it was
possible they had just gone to lunch. But knowing Lori's curiosity
and determination to dig up the truth, and the fact that she was with
Meriel, who, like her great, great grandmother Lois, always seemed to
attract trouble like a magnet, left him a little worried.

Another question remained as well. If Lori had told Andrea that
she'd left a note for him, then she'd left a note, so where was it?
Perhaps it had blown off his desk. He scanned the room with his
enhanced vision. The note wasn't on the floor but... There was a
wadded-up ball of paper in his trash basket, with Lori's handwriting
on it. Could that be it? He x-rayed the paper and read the message
with only the slightest of effort:

"Clark, Meriel and I have gone to get her car before Campus Security
tows it. We'll probably go to lunch at Mamacita's afterwards.

Love,

Lori

P.S. If you get back in time, why don't you join us?"

Oh, great. Clark sighed in resignation and fished the note from the
trash, holding it by a protruding corner and using the tips of his
fingers. It was unlikely that Lori had discarded the note, so
someone else had. Why someone would do such a petty thing was
unclear, but he intended to find out who it had been, if possible.
In the meantime, at least if they got into anything too bad, Meriel
could call for help. The last thing he wanted was for Lori to feel
that he didn't trust her. She was young, but she had a lot of common
sense, and neither of the two women was stupid. He wrapped the wad
of paper in his handkerchief and tucked it into his pocket. He'd
just have to hope for the best, he decided, optimistically, and with
any luck, they'd be back before long with the car.

**********

"What are you two doing here?" Mel demanded.

Meriel smiled. "Hi, Mel," she said, doing her best to sound
cheerful. "I wondered where you were."

"How did you get in my room?" Mel demanded. Behind him a dark-haired
young man whom Meriel recalled vaguely as having seen around,
appeared to be trying to retreat quietly into the background.

Meriel frowned. "You left the door unlocked," she said. "I thought
you must be around here somewhere, because I knocked and it just
swung open."

"I left it locked!"

Meriel shook her head. "Maybe, but it wasn't when we got here.
Anyway, I just came by to see if I dropped my monogrammed pen while I
was here, last night. My dad gave it to me for my birthday, and I
had it in my purse when I came down here. Have you seen it? It's
gold, with a capital M on it in rhinestones."

"No," Mel said, curtly. "Next time don't come into my room unless I'm here."

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Meriel said, striving to sound annoyed. "Look, if
you see my pen, let me know, okay? I really don't want to lose it."

"How long have you been here?" Mel asked, suddenly.

"A couple of minutes," Meriel said. "Since you weren't here, we
figured you'd gone to somebody else's room or something, and waited
for you."

"Well, next time wait *outside*!"

"Okay! Geez! You don't have to have a hemorrhage over it! Come on,
Lori, I guess we're not wanted!" Meriel flounced out the door, past
Mel, and Lori followed quickly, looking offended. Neither of them
relaxed until they had reached the door to the stairs and gone
through it. Then Meriel exhaled explosively.

"Whew! That was close!"

"You were great!" Lori said. "You should have been an actress. You
almost had me convinced!"

"Thanks!" Meriel fought the desire to giggle nervously. "I guess
now we better go tell Clark what we found, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I think we've taken enough risks for one day," Lori agreed.
"Did you hear what he was saying to that guy?"

"I sure did. I hope he's not selling him any dust. You think Mel is
our dealer?"

"Well, it's either him or Pete," Lori said. "Assuming that stuff was
really what we thought it was. We'll find out."

"What do you mean?"

Lori grinned and patted her purse. "I got a sample. Clark knows
some people who can analyze it for us."

**********

Clark was on the verge of going in search of the two women when the
vidphone on his desk chimed softly. He glanced at the small screen
and sighed in relief. The call was coming from Meriel's car.

"Clark Kent," he said.

The palm-sized screen lit up. "Hi, Clark," Meriel said. "Did you
get our note?"

"Yeah, but I want to talk to you about that," Clark said.

"Want to meet us at Mamacita's? We'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Lori's face had appeared behind Meriel's. "We have something to tell
you that we don't want to talk about over the air."

Clark had to resist the urge to breathe heavily. Obviously, the
retrieval of Meriel's car had not been the only thing on the agenda.
At least they were both all right. "I'll be there."

The lunch traffic at Mamacita's wasn't heavy today. When Clark
arrived, after hiking over on foot, Lori and Meriel were just pulling
into a parking spot. His pretty wife waved at him cheerily, and the
two young women hurried over to the entrance where he stood waiting
for them.

"Clark, who do you know that can analyze something for us?" Lori asked at once.

"I guess Arnie could help us, over at STAR Labs," Clark said. "Some
of his colleagues handle that kind of stuff. Why?"

"We need to find out if the powder we found in Mel's room is really
dream dust," Meriel said, matter-of-factly.

"*What?*" Clark had to work to keep his voice fairly level. "I
thought you were just going to pick up your car!"

"Well, we decided to check on something while we were there," Lori
explained. "It was on our way. Anyway, I found a bag under his
mattress, and I got a sample."

Clark took a few seconds to remind himself that Lori was just being
an investigative reporter and that neither she nor Meriel had gotten
hurt. The friendship the two of them had obviously struck up
promised to cause serious disturbances for his peace of mind in the
future, however. It looked as if Rhonda's wish for him to marry a
woman who would keep him hopping had been fulfilled.

Lori's expression changed slightly, and she put a hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry, Clark. Are you mad?" she asked, a little apprehensively.
He inhaled deeply and shook his head.

"No, I'm not," he said, firmly. "You did what you thought you should
do. I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't." It wasn't an
error he'd make a second time, he told himself. Lois hadn't liked
his attempts to protect her from herself by making decisions for her,
and he was at least smart enough to learn from his mistakes--if
someone hit him over the head with them often enough. Even he could
learn a lesson like that, eventually.

Lori's smile told him he'd said the right thing. He put an arm
around her, telling himself to calm down. Lori and Meriel were smart
women. Besides, if they'd gotten in too deep, they would surely have
called him. "Let's go get something to eat," he said.

"Good idea," Meriel said. "I'm starved."

"Me, too." Lori slipped her hand into Clark's, and he squeezed it
lightly. "I feel like having a Combo Grande. I didn't eat much of my
oatmeal after I found my wrist talker in it."

"Oh, yes, the shop called while you were gone," Clark said. "Their
technician was in, and he thinks he'll have to replace most of the
inner parts. He recommended scrapping it and buying another one. He
said it would cost less. I told him to replace the inner parts
anyway, because the talker was a gift from your brother. He
estimated two weeks before it's fixed, but he said he could do it."

"Thanks, Clark," Lori said. "You didn't need to do that."

"Yes, I did," he said. "Some things are more important than saving money."

**********

While they sat waiting for their meals, Lori and Meriel filled Clark
in on their afternoon activities. Clark listened, consciously making
an effort not to criticize. They had gotten caught, but had talked
their way out of the situation and were justly proud of themselves.
As a matter of fact, he was proud of them, too. If he looked at it
dispassionately, they'd done a pretty good job. It was just that
from his perspective, it was hard to be dispassionate.

"Nice work," he said, when Meriel had finished. "Maybe you should
have been a reporter instead of a doctor, Meri."

His great granddaughter grinned, but shook her head. "A doctor is
kind of an investigator, too, Clark, and that's what I want to be.
Right now, though, I want to find out who's poisoning the students at
NTSU."

"We haven't got very long," Lori said. "Tomorrow is the last day of exams."

"That doesn't mean we won't be able to track down the source," Clark
said. "Classes start again in three weeks, and it's probable they'll
be back."

"Maybe," Lori said. "I've got a kind of bad feeling about this,
Clark. Whoever is behind it apparently went after Meriel just
because she asked some questions. What if there's something more
involved that we don't know about?"

"Like what?" Clark wanted to know.

"I don't know. Something, anyway. I just have the feeling it isn't
only about someone selling dream dust to college kids."

Clark considered that. Lori had an almost intuitive instinct about
such things. Maybe she was right. "Well, the only thing we can do
right now is attack it from this angle until we get more information.
I'll get the sample to Arnie right after lunch, and we'll see what he
comes up with. By the way," he added, "where did you leave the note
that you wrote me?"

"On your desk," Lori said. "I set your coffee cup on top of it, so
you'd be sure to find it. Why? Shouldn't I have?"

"That wasn't where I found it."

"Where was it?" Lori asked.

"Somebody crumpled it up and threw it in my trash can."

"Who would do a thing like that?" Meriel asked. "I saw where she put it."

"So did other people in the office," Clark said. "Somebody threw it away."

Lori stared at him, her forehead puckered slightly, then realization
dawned. "Fred!" she said, indignantly. "That little creep!"

"Who's Fred?" Meriel asked.

"The office copy boy," Clark said. "He blames Lori for the upcoming
end of the world."

"What?" Meriel said. "It sounds to me like he's got a serious mental problem."

"That, too," Lori said. "He's part of the Gaia's Children movement."

"You mean that group of whackos that tried to sabotage the
Mayflower?" Meriel asked.

"That's the bunch," Lori said.

"Lori had a packet of information about one of their leaders and they
were trying to get it back," Clark explained. "We think they used
Fred to spy on Lori and set her up for a kidnapping, but we were
never able to prove it. After we uncovered the plot, Fred blamed
Lori, since the organization thinks that when the big ship gets to
Alpha Centauri, Armageddon is going to arrive here."

Meriel shook her head. "Fanatics," she said. "You know, there's a
lot of different groups out there that are out of the
mainstream--people that still think the Earth is flat, people who
think technology is going to destroy the planet--but Gaia's Children
has got to be one of the strangest."

"Exactly." Clark glanced around. "Here comes our food."

**********

"Arnie says he'll give it top priority," Clark told Lori an hour and
a half later. "One of his colleagues said he'd get right to it as
soon as he finished with what he was working on, so we ought to have
the results before the end of the day."

"Good." Lori squinted at him. Her eyes were watering from the
overly bright computer screen, and she wiped the moisture from her
cheeks with the back of her hand. A dull headache had begun behind
her eyes some time ago and she closed them momentarily, pressing the
heels of her hands against them.

"Are you all right, Lori?" Clark's voice sounded worried. "What's
the matter?"

"Nothing. I've just got a headache. The lights are a little bright in here."

Clark's warm hand rested against her forehead for an instant. "You
don't seem to be running a fever, but you don't look like you feel
well. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's just a headache."

Clark moved around to massage her shoulders. "I guess it's been a
pretty stressful couple of days. Does this help?"

"A little," she said, untruthfully. If she were entirely honest, she
might have admitted that she felt slightly nauseated as well.

Clark wasn't fooled. "Lori, what's the matter? You look terrible."

"I don't know," she said. "My head hurts, and I feel a little sick
to my stomach. You don't suppose it was the Mexican food, do you?"

"I doubt it. Mamacita's is a good restaurant. You could be coming
down with something, though." Again, he rested the back of his hand
against her face. "I think I should take you home to bed. To rest,"
he clarified.

Lori nodded, reluctantly. She was feeling more miserable by the
minute. "All right."

Clark helped her out of her chair. "Okay?"

"Uh uh." She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I think I'm going
to..." Lori ran for the ladies' room.

When she returned a few uncomfortable minutes later, Clark was
waiting by the door. "I told John I'm taking you home. Come on."

"How about Meriel? Is she okay?"

"She's feeling fine. I don't think it was the food." He put an arm
around her. "Come on, honey, let's go."

Lori was eternally grateful that Clark didn't try to take her home
via the slidewalk. He guided her through the door to the stairs and
then she felt herself swept up in a pair of strong arms. She put her
throbbing head down on her husband's suddenly Spandex-clad shoulder
and closed her eyes, barely aware of it when he shifted into
super-speed mode. Within what was probably seconds, she felt herself
being tucked into bed. The bedsprings creaked and sagged as Clark
sat down next to her. He rested a hand on her cheek again. "Lori?"

She forced her eyes open. The light in the room seemed incredibly
bright and she closed them quickly.

"Just a minute." Clark moved away, and even behind her closed
eyelids, she could see the light dim. "Okay, try again."

She cracked an eyelid. The illumination of the room had lessened
considerably, but her stomach lurched slightly. "Clark?"

"I'm right here. Honey, I think you need to see a doctor. You got
sick awfully fast."

She moaned faintly. "I don't want to move."

"Okay, I won't make you." He stroked her cheek with one finger.
"I'm going to call Rhonda. I don't like this."

"Okay." Lori couldn't bring up the will to protest. The room seemed
to be rocking unsteadily, like a ship at sea and it was making her
sick. She closed her eyes and fought the urge to lose the contents
of her stomach again. There couldn't be much there after the episode
in the ladies' room at the Planet.

From somewhere, she heard vaguely the whoosh that announced the
arrival of one of Clark's relatives and then the murmur of voices,
but it was all in the background as she fought a desperate battle
with her stomach. She started retching again and was barely aware
when a pair of warm, masculine hands lifted her head and held a basin
for her. Eventually the dry heaves subsided. The voices in the
background slowly faded away as well, leaving only confused images
dancing in her head. Then those also vanished, leaving nothing.

**********

She wasn't Lori. She was moving through a bedroom that was familiar
and unfamiliar at the same time. Somewhere was the vague knowledge
that she was dreaming, but she had never had a dream like this one.
This was the townhouse, her home, something in the back of her mind
told her. Part of her had never seen this place before, but another
part had. She looked in the mirror of an antique cherry wood dresser
and saw a face that was familiar and yet strange. The face was more
mature, and resembled hers, and yet it wasn't. Lori didn't
understand, but when she heard Clark's voice call, she knew he was
speaking to her. Lois. He had called her Lois, and she was Lois.

Clark came into the bedroom. He was Clark, but he was a different
Clark. He wore the glasses she had seen him wear in the photograph
at the Planet, and he was dressed in the period clothes of the turn
of the century. He was waiting for her. The Kerth Awards were
tonight, and they were up for their first joint Kerth. The smile on
his face, however, wasn't for that. They had learned only today that
they were expecting their first child. Clark hadn't been able to
stop smiling since he had heard the news, and she, Lois, who had
never wanted children until she had married Clark Kent, was thrilled
and happy. Part of her mind found all this strange and foreign, but
part of it wasn't at all disoriented. This was natural and normal,
the way things should be.

Somehow, then, she was looking at the scene from the outside, an
observer. The woman who was herself and yet not herself and Clark
were suddenly outside the townhouse on the sidewalk, and Clark was
opening the door of a silver ground vehicle that she had never seen
before. She felt herself drifting farther away from them, the scene
beginning to fade.

What was happening to her? Lori thrashed about, the figures in her
dream becoming distant and shadowy again. She didn't want to leave
this dream. She tried desperately to grasp the images, but for all
her frantic struggling, she couldn't move, couldn't hold on. The
dream shapes melted like mist, and she nearly cried out in her
frustration. There was something about what she was seeing that
meant something, but what it was she hadn't discovered. There was
something she didn't want to lose...

**********

Lori opened her eyes to find herself held tightly in Clark's arms.
Her husband was lying beside her, holding her with her head tucked
under his chin. Lori lay still for several confused minutes, trying
to figure out what had happened. The stomach-churning nausea was
gone and so was the throbbing headache, leaving only faint
discomfort. The painful, over-sensitivity of her eyes to light
seemed to have disappeared as well.

"Clark?" Her voice didn't want to work and the word came out cracked
and raspy, but the effect on Clark was like magic. His arms tensed
and then slowly relaxed, releasing her.

"Lori?" He sat up, looking down into her face. "Ronnie! She's
awake! No, Lori, lie still. Ronnie!"

"Take it easy, Clark, I've still got my super-hearing." Rhonda Klein
was standing in the doorway. For the first time since Lori had met
her, except for a very brief interval when she, Lori and Clark had
been in disguise, she wasn't wearing the pink costume of Ultra Woman.
Clark's granddaughter was wearing a pair of jeans, a white blouse,
tucked in at the waist, and a pair of jogging shoes. Her dark hair
was tied back in a swinging ponytail, and she was half-smiling at
Lori.

"Ronnie?" Lori asked. She rubbed her face and blinked at the doctor.
"What's going on?"

Rhonda moved forward and sat down on the edge of the bed. "That's
what we're hoping you can tell us, Lori. We'd like to know what
happened. No, don't move for now. I don't want you to start feeling
sick again."

Lori frowned, trying to make sense of the words. How was she
supposed to know what had happened? Then the second part registered.
"I don't feel sick."

"No nausea?" Rhonda leaned forward, examining her eyes. "No
headache? Your eyes look normal. No photosensitivity?"

"A little headache. Not much." Lori cleared her throat. "I
feel...pretty okay, really. Kind of...spacey, I think." She blinked,
still frowning, noting for the first time that a line of plastic
tubing was connected to her arm, running from a bag, half full of a
clear fluid, hanging at the head of the bed. "What happened?"

"Lori, you had an adverse reaction to a dose of dream dust," Rhonda
said. "Fortunately it was a very light dose; only a trace, really.
If it had been any stronger, we'd have had to put you in the
hospital. It was touch and go there for awhile whether I was going
to admit you anyway."

"Dream dust?" Lori wasn't sure she'd heard it correctly. "I
didn't... That can't be..."

"It was dream dust," Rhonda said.

"But, how could I have..."

"That's what we're trying to figure out. Clark told me you found a
bag of what you thought was dream dust in someone's dorm room. Did
you smell it? Maybe to try to tell what it was?"

"No, of course not! I'm not crazy!" Lori said, horrified. A little
pulse beat of pain, like a shadow of the previous one began to throb
behind her eyes. "All I did was take a pinch of it and transfer it
to the pillbox. I never got it near my face. In fact, I held my
breath while the bag was open."

Rhonda looked searchingly at her for a long moment. "You're sure."

Lori nodded, cautiously. "Of course, I'm sure. She grimaced
slightly and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"Headache?" Rhonda asked.

"A little bit."

"Close your eyes, lie still and relax," Rhonda told her. "It's all
right. You'll feel better in a little while." She glanced at Clark.
"So, she didn't inhale it at all. All she did was touch it."

"I told you she wouldn't," Clark said.

"I know," Rhonda said, slowly, "and I believed you, but I had to be
sure. It looks to me like we've got a bigger problem on our hands."

"I better call Arnie," Clark said. He squeezed Lori's hand. "I'll
be right back, honey. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Not likely," Lori mumbled, closing her eyes in relief.

Rhonda's hand rested lightly on her forehead. "The stuff is mostly
out of your system, Lori. You should be feeling normal in a couple
of hours."

"Ronnie, how could I have..."

"Shh." The superwoman spoke soothingly. "That's what we're going to
find out. Don't give us a scare like that again, okay? Clark was
almost frantic."

"I didn't..."

"I know. I never thought you did it on purpose. Try to go back to
sleep, now. It's the best thing you can do for yourself."

**********

"Ronnie, I don't get it." Clark kept his voice low so as not to
disturb Lori, sleeping in the next room. He could tell by listening
to her deep, even breathing that she was resting far more peacefully
than she had been a short time before. Her restless tossing and
turning had scared him and threatened to pull out the intravenous
tubing Rhonda had placed in her arm several hours ago, and he had
ended up lying next to her, holding her to prevent the thrashing.
"Why did she react so violently to the little amount you said was in
her bloodstream? Kids have to snort it to get the usual effect."

Rhonda shook her head. "Kids snort the usual stuff to get the
effect. This isn't the usual stuff."

"I figured that."

"I was talking to Dr. Frazier while you were in there with Lori,"
Rhonda said. "The powder was dream dust, all right, but there's been
a chemical alteration made to its structure. That was why I had to
make sure of the way Lori contacted it." She poured herself a cup of
the tea one of them had made several hours ago and warmed it absently
with her heat vision. "She touched it, Clark. She didn't even
inhale it. Under normal circumstances, a person could roll in the
stuff and not have any reaction to it at all as long as they didn't
inhale it or inject it. It doesn't penetrate the outer skin. Not
normally."

"But it must have this time," Clark said.

"Yes, exactly. It's somehow been changed to pass through the
epidermal barrier and into the capillaries--and thus into the bloodstream.
It probably took a while--that would explain the delayed reaction."

"You mean, it isn't instantaneous."

"No," Rhonda said. "Especially on the skin of the hands. If she'd
washed her hands within a few minutes, there would probably have been
no effect at all."

"We went to lunch about half an hour later," Clark said. "She and
Meri went into the restroom to wash. Neither one was impressed by
the cleanliness of Mel's room."

Rhonda shook her head. "She would have absorbed some by that time.
It may have lessened the effect, though. That may be why she only
had a trace of it in her system. I hate to think what the full dose
might have done."

"And a trace amount was enough to do that to her."

Rhonda shook her head again. "Yes, and that's something I haven't
figured out. The stuff *is* more powerful than standard dream
dust--there's no question about that, but it shouldn't have affected
her so badly, unless there's something else about it that we haven't
figured out yet. Arnie said they're not completely finished with the
analysis. He'll probably have more for us in a couple of days." She
paused, frowning. "You said there's been more dream dust cases than
usual this exam week."

"That's what Meriel's friends in the ER said. About three times as
many and it's only the summer session. There aren't as many students
taking exams as there are during the normal school year."

"There might not be a connection," Rhonda said, "but I tend to
distrust coincidences like this."

"In other words, something about this stuff causes more people to
react badly to it than the ordinary, garden variety dream dust."

"That would be my guess. 'Why' is another question, though. An
ordinary chemist just manufacturing dream dust to sell wouldn't go to
that kind of effort, and certainly wouldn't deliberately produce a
product more likely to kill or cripple its buyers. So what's really
going on?"

"Lori said she thought there was something else behind it," Clark
said. "On less evidence."

Rhonda's expression relaxed into a smile. "She still does it,
doesn't she, Clark? It's almost like old times."

"Yeah." Clark poured himself some tea and heated it up. "Don't
mistake her for Lois, though, Ronnie. She isn't."

"No, of course not. But I still see her do things that remind me of
her." She sipped the tea slowly. "Are you going to tell her?"

Clark didn't answer for a long moment, then he shook his head. "I
don't know. Certainly not for a long time, unless something really
unforeseen arises. What would you do if someone came along and told
you that you were the reincarnation of his dead wife?"

Rhonda grimaced. "I see your point. I'd think he was crazy."

"In Lori's place, wouldn't you be hurt, too, thinking I'd married her
because I thought she was Lois, come back? I couldn't do that to
her. I love her too much."

"You're probably right. How many people know?"

"CJ knows. Lara, Jon, Ann, you and John are the others. Meriel
guessed about her being my soulmate from a story I told her when she
was little, but she doesn't know about the past lives aspect."

"That's just as well," Rhonda said, thoughtfully. "None of us will
say anything, of course. It isn't our decision to make."

"Thanks." Clark tuned his hearing to Lori's breathing, relieved to
hear her slow, natural respirations. "It isn't an irrevocable
decision. If it seems like the right thing to do, I will, but the
circumstances would have to be unusual. Some odd things have
happened, though. I'm not sure how to explain them."

"What things?"

"You remember the Kryptonite bracelet. She somehow knew enough to
dislike it. She's seen things of mine that she saw as Lois and she
keeps having deja vu over them. I'm not sure what to think."

"What things?" Rhonda asked.

"There's a picture at the Planet of Lois and me receiving our first
joint Kerth, for one. That also happened to be the day we found out
that we were expecting CJ. It was an important day for us in two
ways. And, there's my fertility statue." He jerked a thumb at the
little object sitting on the bookcase shelf.

"Is that all?"

"Other things, here and there. The picture of my Mom and Dad was
another. But it didn't happen when she saw CJ, Lara or Jon--or even
you. I don't understand it."

"Grandma never had it happen to her, did she?"

Clark shook his head. "Not like this. Everyone has an occasional
case of deja vu."

"Yeah." Rhonda poured more tea into her half-full cup, frowned at
the now lukewarm liquid, and Clark saw the faint flicker of red in
her eyes. Steam began to rise from the surface. "I wish I could
give you an answer, Clark, but I don't have any." She smiled
ruefully. "Science thinks there's a physical explanation for
everything, and maybe there is, but there are still a lot of
unanswered questions in the world. Maybe your friend HG Wells could
explain this one."

Clark made a face. "Let's not talk about that," he said. "Every
time he appeared on the scene he brought trouble with him. It wasn't
his fault, but it happened, all the same. I'll find my own answers."

"I don't blame you a bit," Rhonda said. "Tinkering with time raises
a whole new set of problems I'd rather not even think about, much
less tackle."

"That's about how I feel." Clark poured himself more tea and heated
it. "This dream dust mess, though..."

"You and Lori are going to keep investigating, aren't you?"

"I guess so," Clark said, a little reluctantly. "We have to,
really--unless we can convince the authorities to take it seriously.
I just don't want to expose Lori to that kind of danger again."

"A lot of choice she's going to give you," Rhonda said.

"Yeah." Clark looked morosely at his granddaughter. "I hope you're happy."

"I am. You need a wife that keeps you on your toes, Clark. She'll
do it, too."

"To say the least." Clark rose. "I need to make more tea."

Rhonda got to her feet as well. "I'm going over to STAR Labs to talk
with Arnie and his friend. Maybe we can figure out a few more things
about this new variety of dust. It's going to take some time to
study it completely, but I think we need to. I'll be back to check
on Lori before I go back to Houston, though."

"Thanks." Clark dropped a kiss on his granddaughter's cheek. "Has
anybody ever told you that you're a pushy woman, Ronnie?"

"Sure. Lots of people."

"They were right, and it's a good thing they were. Thanks for all your help."

"You're welcome. Lori's a sweetheart. When she wakes up, tell her
I'll be glad to help her with the big wedding. We'll talk about it
at the barbecue."

**********

Waking up the second time was more pleasant than the first. Lori
opened her eyes to the aroma of classic chicken soup cooking. The
wall chronometer told her it was past eight o'clock in the evening.
Had she really slept that long?

"Clark?" she called.

Clark appeared in the doorway on cue. "Hi, honey. How do you feel?"

Lori stretched, noting that somewhere along the line Clark had
changed her office wear for a pair of pajamas, and the plastic
intravenous tubing had disappeared. "Pretty good, actually. Where's
Ronnie?"

"She had to go home, after she checked you over one last time." He
came to sit on the edge of the bed. "I was scared, Lori."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It wasn't your fault." He reached out to pull her into his arms.
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now."

She cuddled into his embrace. "You're not going to. I promise I'll
be more careful from now on."

He hugged her tightly, then released her. "Good. I've got something
on for you to eat. Ronnie said your stomach might be a little
sensitive for awhile, so I stuck with my mom's old standby--chicken
soup and herbal tea. Would you like me to bring you some?"

"Could we eat in the living room?"

"Sure. Let me get your robe." He turned to retrieve it from the
bedroom chair. She slid her feet over the side of the bed groping
for her slippers. Clark turned back.

"Here you are. Can you walk okay?"

Lori sighed. "I'm *fine*, Clark."

"Okay." He waited while she put on the robe. Lori sighed resignedly.

"If you'd like to give me a hand to the bathroom, I'll be there in a minute."

He grinned. "Sure. I'm sorry, honey. I'm just worried about you,
that's all."

She held up her hands and let him give her a boost to her feet. "I
know, and I really appreciate it, but I'm not made of china, you
know."

"I know."

The way he handled her said otherwise, however. Lori figured that to
a man who could swallow bombs, most of humanity indeed must seem as
fragile as the proverbial china. That was probably why Clark, and
Superman, was the gentle soul that he was. He had to be. She
sighed. That was something she wasn't likely to be able to do much
about if the indomitable Lois Lane hadn't been able to. How could
she possibly convince him that something so incontrovertibly true to
him wasn't? She glanced up at him and shook her head, wryly. Oh
well, there were much worse things a woman might have to put up with
than a husband who was unfailingly considerate of her welfare.

"What?" Clark asked.

"Nothing." She let him put an arm around her and help her to the
bathroom. "I'll be fine, Clark. Why don't you go set out the soup?"

"Okay." He released her and waited until she closed the door. Lori
shook her head again, but had to smile at the same time. She vaguely
remembered lying miserably in the bed, throwing up, and Clark holding
a basin for her. If that wasn't the true test of love, what was? It
would be easy for Clark to tell her he loved her when all was going
well but when he still loved her, even in such thoroughly unromantic
circumstances as that, there wasn't much else to say. No matter what
anyone tried to tell her from now on, she knew the exact truth of
Clark's feelings for her.

"Lori Lyons," she murmured to herself, "you are one very lucky woman."

**********

She negotiated her way into the living room a few minutes later. In
spite of her claim, she discovered that her legs were a little shaky,
and she had to stop and rest a couple of times, grasping onto various
pieces of furniture for support. Clark had set out two bowls of soup
and some French bread (probably really from France, too, she thought)
along with two cups of herbal tea and his genuine Chinese teapot. He
had arranged the cushions on the sofa for her comfort and drawn the
big armchair up to the coffee table so he could sit across from her,
and as she negotiated her unsteady way into the room, he was there to
extend a supporting hand. "Doing all right?"

"Yeah." Lori settled onto the big couch with a sigh of relief. "I'm
sure I'll be fine by morning."

"I'm sure you will," Clark said. "Especially if you take it easy
tonight. Want to try some soup?"

Lori picked up the spoon and tasted the liquid cautiously. It was
hot, but not too hot, and tasted delicious. "This is really good,
Clark. Where did you learn to be such a great cook?"

"My mother taught me a lot of it," Clark said, settling back in his
chair. "When I left home, I learned a lot more. Cooking got to be a
bit of a hobby for me for awhile, and then when Lois and I married I
did most of the cooking. Lois was brilliant, but she wasn't a cook."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Oh, eventually she got so she could handle basic stuff, but
it was never something she did well, so it was my job, mostly."

"And this is your mother's chicken soup recipe?"

Clark nodded. "I was never able to improve on it. I really didn't
want to, anyway."

Lori nodded. "I can see why. I wish I'd known her."

Clark smiled a little sadly. "I miss her. I miss them both, really.
They would have liked you, I'm sure." He turned his head as the
vidphone chimed. Both his eyebrows went up. "It's your dad's office
calling. Want to take the call?"

Lori hesitated. "I guess so, but if it's Mother, I don't want to talk to her."

"Screen block on," Clark said. "Yes?"

"This is Robert Lyons," Lori's father's voice said. "I know you're
not taking calls from Mariann, but I need to talk to Lori."

"Block off," Clark said. The screen lit up and Robert Lyons' face
appeared. Her father looked a little worried, but he gave her a one-sided
smile when he saw her.

"Hello, Clark, Lori. Am I calling at a bad time?"

"No," Lori said. "I just don't want to talk to Mother, unless she's
prepared to be reasonable about Clark."

Her father smiled ruefully at her. "I understand, Lori. Your mother
can be trying, to say the least. First, I wanted to say
congratulations to both of you."

"Thank you," Clark said. "We appreciate that, Mr. Lyons."

"Rob," Lori's father said. "You're my new son-in-law, after all,
Clark." He turned to Lori. "Are you all right, honey? You don't
look well."

"I'm okay, Dad. Clark's taking good care of me."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm going to be in Metropolis on business
tomorrow. I wondered if I could come by to see you? I wanted to
talk to you, and to explain a few things."

"Sure," Lori said. "That is, unless something happens. We're sort
of in the middle of an investigation right now."

"Would eight be all right?"

"Eight will be fine," Clark said. "Mr. Lyons--"

"Rob."

"Rob," Clark said, "I'm sorry if we've caused you any problem over this."

"No, don't be," Robert Lyons said. "Mariann has her own ideas about
how Lori should live her life. I'm happy to see that Lori didn't let
that stop her from doing what was right for her. I'm only sorry that
I wasn't there to see the two of you married, but I understand why
you did it this way."

"As for that," Clark said, "there's going to be a formal ceremony in
October, for the sake of both our families. You and Lori's mother
will be receiving an invitation. I hope you can be there."

Robert Lyons smiled. "I'm sure I will be," he said. "We'll talk
more tomorrow. I have a few things to say that I don't want to go
into over the phone. Good night, now."

"Good night, Rob," Clark said.

"Good night, Dad."

The screen went off. Clark raised an eyebrow at Lori. "That was
interesting. I'm glad your father is happy for us, anyway."

"I thought he would be," Lori said. "Dad doesn't say much, but he's
always wanted me to be happy. He was the one who stood up for me
when I wanted to go to NTSU to get my journalism degree. Mother
didn't want me to. She wanted me to go to the local university, but
NTSU has one of the best journalism programs in the country."

"That doesn't surprise me," Clark said. "I never thought your dad
was intimidated by your mom. I'll be interested in what he has to
say."

"You won't tell him about what happened today, will you?"

"No." Clark shook his head. "That's our business. No one else
needs to know about it."

"Good." Lori picked up her cup of tea and sipped it. "We need to
find out where this stuff is coming from, Clark. Did I hear Ronnie
say this happened to me just because I *touched* it?"

He nodded. "According to Dr. Frazier at STAR Labs, the dream dust
has been chemically altered so it can pass directly through the skin.
It takes a little longer, but that means it can affect people without
their even knowing they've come into contact with it."

"Well, I figured I'd probably come in contact with it, but I didn't
realize it would hurt me or I wouldn't have touched it."

"Of course not," Clark said. "There's more, though. This stuff is
stronger than the standard dream dust and something about the
chemical alteration makes more people tend to react badly to it, like
you did. Ronnie thinks you didn't get the full effect of the drug
because we went to Mamacita's right afterwards. You washed it off
your hand before you had time to absorb the full dose, or you would
have been a lot sicker."

Lori sipped her tea, thinking that over. "Clark, this can't be just
your standard drug dealer."

"You're probably right," Clark said. "But there's the rumor Meriel
reported that there's a 'Professor' kids can go to if they're having
trouble passing exams." He picked up the afghan that lay folded on
the back of the couch and spread it over her lap. "How's that? Are
you comfortable?"

Lori nodded. "That's fine. You know, it might not be connected,"
she said, returning to the previous subject with her usual tenacity.
"Or, maybe the guy manufactures the regular stuff, too, and sells it.
It would be a nice little sideline, if he needs money to finance his
project--whatever the project really is."

"But why would he give his special stuff out to students to sell?
That seems like an unnecessary chance to take."

Lori shook her head. Her mind felt a little numb, maybe a lingering
effect of the dream dust, she thought. "Maybe he didn't," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if some of the students know this guy manufactures dream dust,
could someone have stolen some of it to sell on his own?"

"And maybe got some of the altered dust by accident," Clark said.
"That's possible. If it's true, it means that student is in danger,
too. If he touches it, he could react as violently as you did."

"Like Pete or Mel," Lori said. "Maybe that's what happened to Pete."

"It could be exactly what happened to him," Clark said. "And Mel has
the dust you found in his room."

"Clark, if we're right, there's no time to lose," Lori said. "If Mel
knows about it and sells it to other kids, some of them are going to
die."

"I think I better have a talk with Velma Chow," Clark said. "Maybe
Superman can convince the cops there's something more serious here
than just another dream dealer selling dust to college kids."

"Do you think they'll do anything?"

"Maybe." Clark hesitated. "I probably should do it right now, but I
don't want to leave you alone."

"Clark, tomorrow is the last day of exams. If he's going to sell any
dust, it's going to be tonight." Lori set down her teacup. "You
better go. I'll stay right here until you get back."

Clark got to his feet. "All right, I will, but if you start feeling
sick, I want you to call me."

"I will. Hurry up. I don't want anyone else to die because we
weren't fast enough."

**********

When Clark had left by way of the skylight, Lori poured herself
another cup of the herbal tea and settled back against the cushions.
The apartment was quiet, but somehow comfortable and welcoming. She
found herself looking around at the place that had so suddenly become
her home, and smiling.

Clark's apartment wasn't luxurious, even though it was in a high
security building, and the furnishings in it were his, gathered over
more than a century of living. He'd told her most of his things were
either in storage or in the attics of homes belonging to his four
children. Maybe when they decided to buy a house of their own in a
few years he would bring some of them out to use.

Beyond the French windows, she could see the skyline of Metropolis
and the moving lights of the aircars in the Bayview Skystream out
over the harbor. This was the night of the new moon but despite
that, the sky of Metropolis wasn't dark. A haze of reflected
illumination hid even the brightest stars. The city was alive with
multicolored lights, and it never failed to fascinate her with the
thoughts of the millions of people, each living their own life in the
vast city below her.

Clark's antique clock chimed nine o'clock as she watched the parade
of lights and she automatically glanced at her wrist, only to recall
the tragic fate of her wrist talker. It had been sweet of him to
tell the repairman to fix it for her, in spite of the fact that it
could have been replaced at half the cost. Clark seemed to
understand instinctively that some things were worth much more than
their monetary value might indicate.

The vidphone began to sound in the background, and she glanced at the
identification on the screen. Her eyebrows went up. The call was
coming from Marcy's apartment in New York.

Well, it was probably from Marcy, since Mariann and Lori's sister
rarely spoke anything but superficial pleasantries to each other.

"Yes?" Lori said.

The screen lit up. Her blond, beautiful sister's face smiled at her.
"Hi, Sis," she said.

"Hi," Lori said.

"I hear you got married," Marcy said, sounding surprisingly pleased.
"Nice move, kid. Mom's having a fit."

"Where did you hear that?" Lori asked.

"From Mom," Marcy said. "She didn't have anybody else to complain
to, so she called me. You married Clark, huh?"

"Yes. We were married in Las Vegas, night before last."

"Great," Marcy said. "Mom says you sneaked off because you were
afraid of what she'd say."

"We did," Lori said. "I didn't want to have to put up with her
nagging me to break my engagement."

"No kidding," Marcy said. "I don't blame you a bit. Are you happy?"

Lori nodded. "Yes. Clark is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?" Marcy said. "Where is he, anyway?"

"We're in the middle of an investigation," Lori explained, glibly.
"I came down with some kind of 24-hour bug, and we were supposed to
meet an informant tonight, so Clark went by himself."

"You didn't even have a honeymoon?" Marcy asked.

"Not yet. We're going to have a big wedding in October so our
families can attend, then Clark and I are going to spend two weeks in
Hawaii." Lori could feel the flush rising in her cheeks. "Clark
wants a cabin on our own private beach and..."

"I get it," Marcy said. "You don't have to draw me a diagram." She
winked. "All by yourself with a gorgeous guy like that..."

Lori knew she was scarlet but she couldn't help smiling. "He is, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes. Anybody could see you were already crazy about him when we
met him at your graduation. That's why Mom didn't like him."

"Really?"

"Sure," Marcy said. She hesitated, and Lori could have sworn she was
blushing. "I wanted to tell you, Lori, I've met a really wonderful
guy."

"Again?" Lori couldn't help saying.

Surprisingly, her sister didn't take offense. "Yeah. Only this
time, I think it's the real thing."

"Really?" Lori couldn't help a slight skepticism, but she hoped it
didn't show. "Who is he?"

"His name's Ryan Kent."

"Kent?" Lori said.

"Yeah. He's some kind of relative of Clark's. I met him back in
June, when you and Clark were investigating those crazy cultists.
Clark asked him to bodyguard me, I guess, and you know how much I
hate good-looking guys hanging around me."

"Oh, yes," Lori said, dryly. "You can barely stand them."

Marcy laughed. "Anyway, we liked each other a lot and we've been
going out. Yesterday, he told me he loves me." Her voice dropped.
"Lori, he wants to marry me--for life. No guy...no guy has ever
wanted that before with me. They always wanted a six month
contract--just for the fun of it." For the first time in Lori's
life, Marcy seemed genuinely vulnerable. "I was really jealous of
you for awhile, you know. When we were in Houston, Clark was just so
crazy about you, and I tried to flirt with him, but it wasn't the
same. I think that was when I realized I was falling in love with
Ryan. It's never been like this with any of the others. I feel this
incredible connection to him--like we were always meant to be
together. It kind of scares me, but...I never wanted anything more
in my life."

Lori had to consciously close her mouth. "That's great, Marcy. What
did you tell him?"

"I told him I wanted to think about it for a little while--just to be
sure--that I didn't have the best track record when it came to guys.
He understood. He said I was right because there were things about
him I should know, too."

Lori didn't let her mouth drop open again, but it was a struggle.
Marcy's relationships usually took about a week before she and the
new guy in her life took out a six-month marriage contract. This was
definitely not the Marcy she knew. And Ryan was a relative of
Clark's? Was it possible that he was one of the supermen? She had
to talk to Clark about this. "I think you're being smart, Marcy.
What does he do? And when do I get to meet him?"

"He's a private detective," Marcy said. "He works for Brandon and
Wallace Detective Agency here in New York. I don't know exactly when
we can make it down to see you, but it will be soon. Okay?"

"Sure," Lori said. "Just give me a little warning so we'll be sure
to be here. Clark and I have a pretty busy schedule."

"Yeah, I know." Marcy grinned, but without a trace of the
superiority that had always accompanied her dealings with Lori in the
past. "Kent and Lyons of the Daily Planet. I don't know what Mom's
complaining about. It looks to me like you've got a pretty good
start at your career."

Lori shrugged. "You know Mom. If there's a guy involved, then it's
automatically bad. Marcy, do you have any clue why she didn't want
either one of us to get married? She didn't mind when Brad did."

"No." Marcy shook her head. "I just know that she tried to keep me
away from guys. You know, if she hadn't tried so hard, I wouldn't
have gotten married just to get away from home. I'm glad I did,
though, or I might not have met Ryan, and that would have been
awful." She glanced at her wrist. "He'll be here in a few minutes.
We're going out to dinner."

"You mean he's not--um..."

"No, he's not living with me. He did stay here while he was guarding
me, but that was all, and it wasn't for lack of trying! He said that
while he was on duty, he couldn't let himself get more personally
involved. Now, he says he wants to wait until we're officially
engaged! Men!" Marcy said in exasperation.

"It sounds to me like he's pretty serious about you," Lori said.
"Besides, waiting until it's official isn't so bad."

"You *are* kidding aren't you?" Marcy said. "You haven't *seen* him!
He's gorgeous! It's not that it's all physical--it isn't. Ryan is
just such a great guy to be around--but I *want* to get physical with
him, and he knows it!"

Lori was at a loss over that. Fortunately, Marcy's door chime
sounded in the background at that moment, putting an end to that
particular subject. Marcy called, "Come in! I'm on the phone!"

Somewhere behind her, there was the sound of a door opening and
closing. Marcy said, "Come over here, Ryan. I want you to meet my
baby sister."

A tall, well-built man who appeared to be about Clark's age, moved
into the screen's pickup. He looked a lot like Clark, Lori noted.
His eyes had the same shape as her husband's and his face the same
structure, but he had a rakish air unlike Clark's GQ style. His
dark, waving hair was a little longer than Clark's, and there was a
trace of five o'clock shadow on his upper lip and jaw. He wore a
black pullover shirt and black slacks, and managed to look both
dangerous and extremely attractive at the same time. Lori felt her
eyebrows climb.

"Lori, this is Ryan," Marcy said. "Ryan, this is Lori, my little sister."

He flashed Clark's smile at her. "Hi, Lori," he said. "I'm glad to
finally meet you."

"Hi," Lori said. "It's nice to meet you, too, but I'm afraid I'm not
really dressed for any introductions right now."

"Got a cold?" Ryan asked. "Don't worry about it on my account. You
look fine." He turned to Marcy. "Are you ready, honey? Our
reservations at the club are for ten."

"Yes. Let me grab my coat." Marcy turned back to Lori. "Good
night, Sis. I'll talk to you later."

"Good night," Lori said. "Enjoy your dinner."

"I hope you feel better," Ryan said. "Say hi to Clark for me. Good
night." The screen went dark on the word.

Lori was left staring at the screen for a long minute before she gave
a soft laugh. She'd be willing to bet that Clark hadn't expected
this when he'd asked Ryan to bodyguard Marcy, but if it turned out
that the same thing had happened to Ryan Kent and Marcy as had
happened to Clark and her, then maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Of
course, there would have to be a lot of explaining to do before they
were done...

**********