When Clark returned over an hour later, he found his wife sound
asleep on the couch, the afghan pulled up around her shoulders. He
debated for a moment over whether to simply pick her up and carry her
to bed or to wake her, but before he made up his mind, she opened her
eyes and yawned slightly. "Back already? How did it go?"

He sat down next to her. "Good and bad," he said, a little grimly.
"Velma believed me, but there wasn't any probable cause to search
Mel's room. At least there wasn't until we checked on his
whereabouts."

"Where is he?"

Clark clenched his fists, trying to tell himself, as he had been for
the past hour, that it hadn't been his fault for not realizing the
implications sooner. It didn't help. "In the morgue, now. He was
dead in his room. He'd been dead for several hours at least."

"Oh, no!"

"Yeah." Clark shook his head. "I'm supposed to call tomorrow to
find out more, but it looked like his death was the result of dream
dust poisoning."

"From the new stuff?"

"Probably. We found the plastic bag. It was empty, but there was
enough residue that Velma thinks they'll be able to do an analysis
with no trouble."

Lori shivered. "How about the people he sold it to?"

"We don't know. Velma's people called the college administration and
are trying to get the names of all the students who have exams
tomorrow. Two have turned up in the emergency room, but the only
report we have so far is that they're in critical condition."

Lori put her arms around him. "Oh, Clark..."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I should have done something, Lori.
We knew how dangerous the stuff is."

"You knew *after* Dr. Frazier's friend analyzed it, Clark. It might
already have been too late for Mel by then, anyway. And besides, you
had something else on your mind, too. It's not your fault you didn't
think of everything." She pulled back and fixed her eyes on his
face. "You are *not* to blame yourself, do you hear me? Mel was
selling that stuff. He had to know it could hurt people. He wasn't
exactly innocent, even though I didn't want him to die. Clark, this
isn't over. Someone created the new dream dust. He must have had a
reason. We have to find him before more people end up dead."

Clark continued to hold her, letting what she had said penetrate.
Somehow, when she said it he was far more willing to accept it as the
truth, although he had been telling himself essentially the same
thing since they had found Mel's body. She was right. He might be
Superman, but he was neither omnipotent nor omniscient. The only
thing they could do now was to find the "Professor", or, if he wasn't
the source, locate the real one. That was much more important and
far more productive than assigning blame.

"Thanks," he said, his voice muffled in her hair. "You're right."

"Of course I am," she said, quietly. "You can't take on the
responsibility for the whole human race, Clark. You can only do the
best you can."

"I love you, Lori," he said. "You make sense, when nothing else does."

"So do you," she said. "I had no idea what life could be like until
I met you." She sniffled unexpectedly. "Please don't feel guilty
about this. It wasn't your fault."

"Hey." He tilted her face up to his. "Don't cry, honey."

"I just don't like to see you upset," she said. "You're such a...a
good man, Clark. Nobody could try harder to help. You can't be
everywhere and do everything. No one can." She scrubbed at her face
with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm a little emotional
tonight."

"You have some reason," he said. He stroked her hair. "How did I
get along for so long without you?"

"I don't know." She looked up at him. "We don't have anything else
to do tonight, do we?"

"Well, there's the dishes..."

"Forget the dishes," she said, sounding suddenly determined. "I want
to...you know what I want to do."

He felt his eyes widen. "Are you *sure* Lori? You were so sick
today, and I'm not sure we should--"

"I feel much better," she said, "and I just need you to, tonight. Do
you really mind?"

He had to struggle not to laugh. "Of course not. I just don't want
to overtire you."

"You won't," she said. "It's been such an awful day. At least we
can make it end right."

**********

"How are you feeling, Lori?" Andrea Waltham looked up as Lori and
Clark passed her desk on the way to the editor's office the next
morning. Fred glanced sullenly at the two reporters as they paused
by the gossip columnist's desk.

"I'm all right," Lori said. "It turned out to be a touch of food
poisoning, probably from that sandwich I had for a snack yesterday
morning."

"That must have been one stale sandwich," Andrea said. "I'll be sure
to stay away from the sandwich machine from now on. I'm glad you're
feeling better, though."

"Thanks," Lori said. "Is Mr. Olsen in his office?"

"Yeah. He got in about six-thirty this morning."

"Thanks, Andrea," Clark said.

Lori glanced over at Fred, who was sc
owling at her. She'd had just
about enough of his dirty tricks and nastiness. Fred was going to
find out how it felt to have the situation reversed in the very near
future, just as soon as she had a chance to concentrate on it.

They went on to the editor's office and Clark knocked lightly.

"Come in," John's voice called. Their editor looked up as Clark
opened the door and let Lori enter ahead of him. "How are you doing,
Lori?"

"I'm all right," Lori said. "How's Meriel?"

"She's fine," John said. "Why shouldn't she be?"

Clark pulled forward a chair. "Sit down, Lori. John, you got the
story we sent in last night?"

"Of course."

"We wanted to tell you what really happened." He made sure the door
was locked and took a second chair. "In case you hadn't guessed,
there was more to it." Quickly, he sketched the events of the day
before.

John listened in silence until Clark had finished. "My God." He
turned to examine Lori's face. "Are you *sure* you're all right,
Lori?"

"Ronnie came by this morning. She gave me a clean bill of health,"
Lori assured him. "Where's Meriel?"

"She and Marilyn went over to the hospital to visit Rena," John said.
"She's out of her coma, thank God, and the doctors don't think
there's any brain damage."

"That's one mark in the positive column," Clark said. "John, this
isn't over. Whoever is manufacturing the stuff is still loose. I
know the police will be investigating, but I'd feel better if we can
keep on it, too."

"Do you have any leads?" John asked.

"A few. We need to talk to Rena first," Clark said. "We have to
find out who sold her the dream dust."

"I thought it was Mel," John said.

"Not necessarily," Lori interjected. "It could have been Pete
Bremerton, the roommate Meriel said was taken out by the paramedics
on Monday night. Mel may simply have been an opportunist after Pete
got sick. If it was, we may be able to find out from him where he
got it--assuming he's still alive and his mind is still intact."

"There's always that," John said. "What if he can't help you?"

"We'll deal with that when we come to it," Clark said. "This
'Professor' may have been selling ordinary dream dust to other
students as well. If he's our man, we might be able to locate him
through some of the other victims--the ones who got their dust from
him rather than Mel or Pete. Anyway, it's a shot." He paused. "Any
more word on the Kryptonite ring, by the way?"

"Just what I told Lori, yesterday," John said. "A geology teacher,
one Gerald Smitt from Metro City College, bought it about six months
ago, but he's moved since and changed jobs. Apparently there was
some sort of scandal in his personal life, according to the guy our
man talked to, and he quit voluntarily rather than have it brought up
for public scrutiny. As soon as we have more, I'll let you know."

"All right. So, I take it you want us to keep on this?" Clark said.

John nodded. "It looks as if you've still got some avenues to
pursue," he said, "and we still haven't figured out who it was that
attacked Meriel. I want to be sure she's safe. By the way, did you
find anything from that search program you were running yesterday,
Lori?"

"I haven't had a chance to check," Lori said. "I'd only just
gotten back here when I started feeling sick. I'll take a look at it
in a few minutes."

"All right, get going," John said. "You've got work to do."

When they emerged from John's office, Lori headed for her desk.
Since she had become Clark's permanent partner, her small desk had
been exchanged for a larger one located close to his. Fred was
standing next to it as she approached, and he looked up guiltily
before scurrying away. Lori gazed after him, frowning. What was the
little weasel up to this time?

"Computer on," she said. "Results of search program 3."

The computer hummed softly into life, but after several seconds, the
screen flashed an error message.

Lori frowned and tried again. Again, the same message resulted.

"What's the matter?" Clark asked.

"My program's been erased," Lori said. "All the data is gone."

"That's odd," Clark said. "Can you set it up again?"

"Yeah, I think so, but I'll have to start all over." Lori went to
work, recreating yesterday's efforts. When she finally had it
running, she sat back, thinking. That shouldn't have happened, she
knew. Everything should have been saved automatically the way she'd
directed it to do, until and unless someone deliberately deleted it.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to Fred, disappearing into the storeroom.
He wouldn't have been that foolish, would he? She'd left the
computer running and unattended. He could have done it without much
effort. It wouldn't take a computer expert to accomplish the feat,
although if he'd gotten caught it would result in a severe reprimand
if not outright termination. Was his dislike of her so great that he
would stoop to trying to sabotage her work in such a stupid way?

There was no way she could prove it, she knew. Not this time. But
there was an elementary trap that she could set up. Nora, her best
friend during her high school years, had shown her a trick when
someone had broken into the personal student computer files in her
history class and stolen her work for her history term paper one
semester. She'd caught the little creep when he'd come back for
more. The whole incident had given her a completely undeserved
reputation--at least, undeserved at the time--for being a computer
whiz. She'd learned a lot in the intervening years. This one was
going to be a masterpiece.

Carefully and quickly, she began to work.

**********

New Troy State Medical Center was a cluster of buildings set on
spreading, landscaped grounds. It had been there for nearly a
hundred years as a major teaching hospital for medical personnel of
all sorts, and had a worldwide reputation. The saying was that if
you had an ordinary disease you shouldn't go there because no one
would pay you any attention, but if you had something strange and
exotic there was no better hospital for you.

Meriel Olsen glanced uncertainly at Clark and Lori, as they hurried
down the wide, antiseptic-scented corridor and squared her shoulders,
determinedly. This wasn't something she really wanted to do, but it
was important. Her best friend had nearly died of a near-fatal dose
of dream dust. Finding the source of this deadly new form was of
paramount importance. Rena was likely to be upset, but Meriel knew
it had to be done.

She paused outside Rena's private room, took a deep breath and
knocked firmly. "Re, may we come in?"

"Meri?" Rena's voice answered, and Meriel winced at the sound. It
was hoarse and tired, not the voice she expected from her childhood
friend.

"Yes. I've got some friends with me. May we come in and talk to you?"

"Sure." Rena's voice seemed almost drained of life. Meriel entered,
and her companions followed.

The girl in the bed was lying back against a pair of hospital pillows
and turned her face listlessly toward the door as Meriel entered,
followed by Lori and Clark. Rena's thin face and huge, tired eyes
made Meriel wince, and reaffirmed her determination never to touch
illegal drugs. The price her best friend had paid all because she
had wanted to pass a chemistry test was much too high. "Hi," she
said, softly.

"Hi," Rena croaked. "I figured you'd be back after your mom went to
work. You don't have to say 'I told you so'."

"I wouldn't say that!" Meriel said.

"Well, you could." Rena closed her eyes. "I was stupid. You were
right. Who are these people? Cops?"

"No, these are my Uncle Clark and his wife, Lori. You know--Kent and
Lyons from the Daily Planet?"

"Oh." Rena opened her eyes again to survey Clark and Lori with dull
curiosity. "I remember. You were talking about them. What do you
want? An interview about how to be a moron?" A tear rolled down her
cheek. "I can tell you first hand. If the judge doesn't put me in
mandated counseling, maybe I'll be lucky and get to take the whole
course over again."

"No," Clark said. "I don't think you're a moron, Rena. I think you
made a mistake and nearly paid for it with your life. You don't need
me to tell you that."

Rena closed her eyes and nodded. "That's for sure."

"Re, I doubt anyone's told you," Meriel said. "There's a new kind of
dust. It's stronger and more dangerous. That's probably the kind
you got. We're trying to find out where it came from, and who's
making it. It's killed two people in a week and more may still die,
or never be normal again. We need you to tell us where you got it."

Rena hesitated. "If people find out I--"

"If you don't tell us and people die, how are you going to feel?"
Lori said, bluntly. "This stuff can kill you just by touching it, if
you happen to react the wrong way to it. Mel Hanson is dead. Was he
the one who sold it to you?"

Rena stared at her, obviously shocked. After a second, she
swallowed. "No," she whispered. "No, it was Pete. Pete sold it to
me on Monday."

Meriel looked at Lori, almost angry at her tactic, but Lori didn't
flinch. "Thank you, Rena. You probably saved some people's lives
today."

"Yeah." Rena said. Another tear leaked down her cheek. "I'm sorry,
Meri. I've been such an idiot."

Meriel looked helplessly at Clark. What was she supposed to say,
especially when she'd been thinking the same thing for nearly two
days? But she couldn't say that to Rena, especially when she was
feeling like this. Besides, Rena was her friend, a friend who had
made a nearly fatal mistake.

"It'll be all right," she said. "We're going to find out who's
making this stuff, and we're going to stop him, Re. You've helped us
a lot."

Rena closed her eyes. "That is if Pete isn't dead, too," she said.
"I should have realized, but I wasn't thinking. I should have
figured... It was just this one time. I just wanted to pass the
test." She began to cry softly.

Meriel put a hand on top of hers. "Re, when you take the class
again, I'll help you study for the tests, I promise. Just please,
don't take any more dust. I don't want you to die."

**********

"So Pete Bremerton was the one selling the stuff before Monday
night," Clark said, a short time later. He opened the door of
Meriel's little car for Lori, let her squeeze into the rear, then
folded his muscular frame into the only marginally more roomy
passenger seat. "It sounds like Mel just took over where Pete left
off."

"That doesn't make it any better," Lori said. "Now we need to find
out where Pete wound up. If he was dead, you'd think it would have
been reported somewhere. I 'm going to run a search for him when we
get back to the Planet. If he's still alive, maybe we can track him
down and get some answers. Assuming he can answer questions."

"That's the big 'if'," Clark said. "There's still that unidentified
guy who went after Meriel, too." He glanced at his great
granddaughter as she got into the driver's seat. "Somehow, I doubt
Mel sent him after her. Maybe our 'Professor' was trying to get some
answers. If he knows his super dream dust was stolen, he may be
trying to find out who took it. Meriel might have looked like a lead
if he was getting desperate."

"Yeah," Lori said. "I hope you're being careful, Meri."

"Meri doesn't make the same mistake twice," Clark said. "I never had
to rescue her from any tree, rooftop or cliff more than one time. Of
course, if I hadn't known she liked to fly with me, I'd have wondered
about her obsession with heights."

Meriel looked at him with a half-smile. "I always wondered how long
it was going to be before you figured it out," she said.

Clark chuckled. "I think the time I pulled you off your Uncle
Aaron's garage roof when you were three was when I put two and two
together," he said.

"You mean you knew all along?"

"Sure." Clark glanced back at Lori and winked. "I'm not galactically
stupid, you know."

**********

Galactically stupid.

The phrase was familiar, although Lori was sure she'd never heard it
before. The sensation of deja vu, which had been all too common in
recent weeks, was back with a vengeance. Now why should such simple
words trigger the almost otherworldly feeling that somewhere, in some
other time and place that was of great importance, she had heard them
before?

"Lori?" Clark's voice sounded worried. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah...sure. You know that deja vu thing? It's back."

"What deja vu thing?" Meriel asked.

"Just something we were discussing the other day," Clark said. He
was frowning slightly. "What brought it on?"

"When you said 'galactically stupid'. I've never even heard it
phrased that way before, but it's like it means something important
to me. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," Clark said. "Really weird." He was looking hard into her
eyes, his own intense and concerned, but he said nothing more.
Meriel pulled the little groundcar out into traffic, and a moment
later they were headed back toward the Daily Planet.

She was turning into the parking lot under the Daily Planet building
when Clark's wrist talker beeped.

"Clark Kent," he said.

"Clark, this is Arnold Frazier," the voice from the little speaker
said. "Superman told me to contact you if I need to get hold of him.
I have some information for him about the altered dream dust that he
brought to me yesterday."

"Yes, Doctor?" Clark said.

"Tell him that I need to see him right away. I believe we have the
answer as to why the chemical changes were made."

"I'll tell him right away, Doctor. Thank you." Clark shut off the
wrist talker. "Better let me out here, Meri."

Meriel pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. A second
later, Clark was out the door and had disappeared.

Lori and Meriel looked at each other. "Life with a super-hero is
never dull," Lori said, at last. "Maybe we'll finally get a few
answers."

"I hope so," Meriel said. "I've been wracking my brain trying to
figure out what's behind it, and every idea I come up with is more
crazy than the last. Terrorists, mad scientists with mind control
schemes, blackmail--but it all seems like a lot of effort to go to
when something more simple will do."

"Yeah, I know," Lori said. "So have I. Thank heavens for Dr. Frazier."

"It's nice to have friends in high places," Meriel said. She opened
her door. "I promised Dad I'd stay within sight for another day at
least. At least I brought something to do."

"Well, I've got that search running, if someone hasn't erased it
again," Lori said. "I want to see if it's turned anything up yet."

"Erased it? What happened?"

Lori scrambled out after Meriel. "I came in this morning and found
out someone had wiped out the records of the search I was running to
try to identify that guy who tried to kidnap you, yesterday."

Meriel wrinkled her nose, looking puzzled. "Why would anyone do a
thing like that? Couldn't it have been an accident?"

"It would have had to be a really strange one," Lori said. "I think
the reason is a lot more likely to be human. Our office gofer has
had it in for me ever since Clark and I messed up the plans Gaia's
Children had to blow up the Mayflower."

"You mean that guy you told me about yesterday?"

"Uh huh."

"What a little jerk!"

"Well, yes, my opinion exactly," Lori said. "If I can catch him at
one of his little tricks with the evidence to prove it was
deliberate, I think I can fry his bacon for him, but it all depends
on if he comes back."

"You said yesterday he's already been warned a couple of times.
He'll be back," Meriel said. "If he hasn't straightened up yet, then
he's not going to. Give him time to hang himself. He will, sooner
or later."

"I hope I can help him along a little," Lori said. "I set a trap
with my computer. If he comes back and tries again, it's all over."

"What did you do?" Meriel asked, curiously.

"Well, it's a variation on a trap that I used once in high school to
catch a guy that liked to steal other students' work and present it as
his own..."

**********

When the elevator opened on the newsroom floor, Meriel was laughing.
"I'll bet that was a shock!" she was saying.

"Oh, yes. The thing was, I had him dead to rights, with pictures and
a record of every move he'd made," Lori finished. "And he'd done it
all to himself. Of course, I couldn't have managed it without Nora
to help. She taught me an awful lot about computers. See the blond
guy carrying the doughnut box? That's Fred."

Meriel glanced casually in the direction she had indicated. "Not a
bad-looking guy if he'd smile," was her verdict.

"I guess." Lori hadn't considered Fred's looks since she had come to
know his character. "Let's go check the computer."

The computer had finished its search. Lori retrieved the information
and displayed it. "Is this the guy, Meri?"

Meriel examined the picture presented. "It sure looks like him," she
said. "Who is he?"

"Well, according to this, he's a TA in the geology department at
NTSU. His name is Lester Norton."

"A geology TA tried to kidnap me?" Meriel said, sounding slightly
aggrieved. "What a let-down! I thought villains' sidekicks were
supposed to be sinister characters with a hunchback, one eye and a
telltale limp whose masters cook up plans to rule the world in their
dank, dark lair."

"You've been watching too many vid dramas. Besides, the brains
behind the operation may yet turn out to be a mad scientist," Lori
said, getting into the spirit of the thing. "I'd like to bring down
a mad scientist."

"Me, too," Meriel agreed, enthusiastically. "Maybe he's the
sinister, limping, one-eyed hunchback."

"Yeah, maybe. Seriously, though, you've never seen this Norton guy
around campus, before?"

Meriel shook her head. "You know how big the campus is."

"Yeah." Lori examined the face of their suspect. "Well, I guess
looks can be deceiving. He sure doesn't look like an evil sidekick."
She glanced at Meriel. "It's funny, I have the feeling I'm missing
something, but I don't know what it is. We'll have to check Mr.
Norton out. First, though, I want to run a search for any mention of
Pete's death."

"Yeah," Meriel said, dropping the joke, "I wish this really was a vid drama."

"You and me both. Maybe Clark will be able to shed some light on the
whole thing when he gets back," Lori said. "In the meantime let's
see if we can find any mention of Pete Bremerton."

The search program had so far turned up no mention of Peter Bremerton
when Clark walked into the newsroom twenty minutes later. Lori was
still at her desk and Meriel was sitting beside her in a borrowed
chair. The two of them were immersed in a computer game while the
machine continued to mine the net for any mention of their quarry.

"Well," he said, quietly, "I see you're both hard at work."

Lori grinned. "Sorry, we got bored. What did Dr. Frazier have to say?"

"A lot of things," Clark said, "most of which went over my head. But
his colleague has completed a thorough analysis of the dust, and they
think they know what the purpose was for making the chemical changes."

"Well, what was it?" Meriel asked, impatiently.

"Apparently," Clark said, "someone is trying to make a dream dust
that's addictive. They haven't succeeded yet, but the chemical
changes suggest that that was the purpose."

"You mean he's trying to *addict* people to this stuff?" Meriel was horrified.

"Yeah. And the chances are that he's going to keep trying until he
succeeds," Clark said. "I already told Velma Chow. They're trying
to find Pete Bremerton, too, by the way, but it looks as if he's
disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Great. Has anyone contacted his parents?"

"Velma Chow contacted them. They're residents of New Jersey, and
they claim they haven't seen him."

"They're not worried about him?" Lori asked. "I'd expect them to be frantic!"

"Dr. Bremerton spoke to Lieutenant Chow. He said they haven't heard
from Pete for two weeks. He declined to answer any further
questions. Lieutenant Chow is trying to find out more through the
local cops, but it's slow going."

"I can see that," Lori said. "It sounds to me like they know exactly
where he is."

"I'm going to get hold of Lisa," Clark said. "Maybe she can find out
what we need to know."

"Who's Lisa?" Lori asked. "Another member of the family?"

"Yeah," Clark said. "Lisa Brent O'Brien--one of Ronnie's daughters.
She's married to her partner, Matt O'Brien--they're plastic surgeons,
and live in Newark. They'll be at the barbecue on Sunday, so you'll
get to meet them."

"I'll be there too," Meriel said. "Henry promised to give me a ride.
Don't be nervous, Lori. There's going to be an awful lot of us
there, but there'll be people who know you, too and everybody wants
to meet you. It was supposed to be your engagement party, but now I
guess it'll be sort of a wedding party. It's a big deal for the
whole family, you know."

"I guess I didn't really think about it," Lori said. "I suppose it will be."

"Don't forget me," Clark said. "I'll be there, too--just for moral
support, you know. And I hear that Ryan's coming with his fiancee."

"You're kidding!" Meriel said. "You mean he finally decided to stop
playing the field and settle down?"

"He says he's finally found the right woman," Clark said. "He called
me this morning with the news. I've never seen him so happy. He was
literally walking on air."

With anyone else, that would be hyperbole, Lori thought, but with
Clark's family it might be physically true.

"It took him long enough," Meriel said. "Who is she?"

"He didn't say," Clark said, "but he says he told her about himself
last night, and he wants us all to meet her."

Lori opened her mouth and then closed it. The middle of the newsroom
wasn't the spot to discuss private family matters. Instead, she
said, "We identified the guy who attacked Meri, yesterday, Clark.
He's a geology TA named Lester Norton."

Clark frowned. "Geology? That's interesting."

"Yeah," Lori said. "It's probably only a coincidence, but didn't
John say the guy who bought the ring was a geology teacher?"

"He did. He said Gerald Smitt was a geology teacher over at Metro
City College before he resigned," Clark said. "Can you dig up a
picture of him?"

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe the DataNet would have him." Lori
turned to the computer.

"That's a scary thought," Meriel said. "If the guy with the ring is
also the guy making the dream dust..."

"I'd say the odds against it are fairly high," Clark said. "Besides,
if he's at NTSU, I'd think our people would have found him by now."

"Unless he's there under another name," Meriel said.

"Well, maybe," Clark said. "Anything, Lori?"

"It's looking." As she finished speaking, the screen lit up with a
picture of the man in question. Gerald Smitt was a short, rotund man
of about 40, with a round, ruddy face and short, red hair. "Let's
see...he's a graduate of MSU, with a Ph.D. in geology, married once and
divorced. Employed until six months ago by Metro City College.
Apparently he hasn't gotten a job since, or it would be in here."

"Well, he could have just taken a sabbatical," Clark said.

"That's possible. He's apparently well-traveled. He's spent time in
several foreign countries, including the Antarctic as well as Mars
and the moon, studying geologic formations."

"Can you check his picture against the roster of instructors at NTSU,
and see if he's there under another name?" Meriel asked.

"Sure. This shouldn't take as long. There aren't nearly as many
instructors as students," Lori said.

"Meanwhile," Clark said, "I think we need to check up on this Lester
Norton. If he's involved in this business--and I can't see why else
he'd have gone after Meri--maybe he can lead us to his boss."

"You don't think he's the bad guy?" Meriel asked.

Clark shrugged. "It's possible, but it's equally possible he's
working for our bad guy." He glanced at his wrist talker. "It's
nearly two. As soon as you're finished there, Lori, we'll go over to
the campus and see if we can find Lester Norton."

"And," Meriel said, "find out if he's had an accident involving his nose
in the last day or so." She looked wistful. "I'd like to go, too."

"If he sees you, he'll know something's wrong," Clark said.

"I know," Meriel said, "But it's boring sitting here. I know Dad's
worried about my safety, but I was going to the beach with Rena for
my vacation. That's all shot, now."

Lori glanced at the computer as it gave a soft "ding". "It's
finished. No matches. If Gerald Smitt works there, his picture
hasn't been recorded."

"I guess that's a dead end," Clark said. "Shall we go, Lori?"

"Sure." She got to her feet. "Go ahead and play whatever games you
like, Meri," she said. "We'll be back in a while."

"Sure." Meriel moved into Lori's chair. "This isn't how I planned
on spending my vacation."

**********

"I think," Lori said, as they stepped into the elevator, "that we
should plan on getting a groundcar at the very least before too long.
Relying on Superman Express gets inconvenient sometimes."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," Clark said. "There are times
when you need to get places quickly and I'm not around. One thing,
though, we need a bigger one than Meriel's. I could barely squeeze
into it. Maybe we can visit the dealer's tomorrow. You have your
license, don't you?"

"Sure. I renewed it last summer when I went home for vacation. I'll
have to change it for New Troy, but that won't be a problem.
Besides, I want to put my new name on it."

Clark grinned. "I kind of like that, myself," he said. He put his
arms around her as the elevator rose toward the roof. "Do you like
necking in elevators?"

Lori giggled. "We're being watched," she said, nodding at the camera lens.

"I'm on my honeymoon. Let them eat their hearts out," Clark said,
and kissed her.

**********

The Geology Department was housed in Bell Hall. It was an older
building made of discolored brick, and one outer wall was completely
covered with ivy vines. As they entered via the front doors, Clark
could hear the faint murmur of voices and other sounds of human
occupancy. A quick glance around with his x-ray vision showed him
three classrooms occupied by students taking their finals. A
directory near the entrance informed them that the office of the
department head was at the far end of the main hall. Together, they
headed toward it, the soles of their shoes echoing loudly on the bare
floor.

The door was closed, but a quick peek with his x-ray vision told him
that the room was occupied. Clark knocked firmly, and a tenor voice
called, "Come in."

The inhabitant of the room was a short, balding man, definitely
neither Lester Norton, nor Gerald Smitt. He looked up from his
computer screen as they entered. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Clark said. " This is Ms. Lyons and I'm Clark Kent.
We're from the Daily Planet."

The man's eyebrows climbed almost to where his hairline would have
been. "I'm Dr. Parsons, head of the Geology Department. Why would
the Daily Planet be interested in us?"

"We're trying to locate one of your teaching assistants for an
interview--a Lester Norton," Clark explained. "We're doing a series
of educational articles on the job of teaching assistant: how they
get the job, what they're expected to do and a few anecdotes to fill
out and personalize the interview. His name was given to us as a
possible candidate."

"Oh, I see." Parsons rose to his feet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Norton isn't
here today. He suffered an accident yesterday and called in ill this
morning."

"Oh," Clark said. "I hope his accident wasn't serious?"

"Oh, no. Apparently he fell and bruised himself severely, yesterday.
It was just one of those unfortunate incidents. I'd offer you a
substitute, but all my other teaching assistants are proctoring final
exams at the moment and can't be spared. It you'd care to wait...?"

"No," Clark said. "We'll try some of the others who were
recommended. I hope Mr. Norton feels better soon."

"Very well. I'm sorry your trip was for nothing."

"That's all right," Clark said. "We have other--" The feeling that
overcame him at that instant was completely unexpected and yet as
completely familiar. A wave of dizziness washed over him followed at
once by the burning ache of Kryptonite exposure. His surroundings
seemed to blur, and he felt himself stagger.

"Clark!" Lori's voice came faintly from the background and her arms
closed around him. He was vaguely aware of an exclamation from
Parsons, and of hands supporting him, then of being lowered into a
chair. For an instant, the room almost dimmed out.

Then he was sitting in a straight-backed chair, his head shoved into
his lap, and Lori was kneeling beside him, her dark eyes wide with
fright and comprehension. Parsons had gone to the water cooler and
returned now with a paper cup full of cold water.

"Mr. Kent?" His voice sounded concerned. "Are you all right?"

Clark pushed himself rather dizzily upright. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"Here, drink some of this." Parsons offered the cup. Lori took it
and put it carefully into his hand.

"Take a couple of sips, Clark," she urged. "And take some deep breaths."

Clark did as he was told. The feeling had disappeared, leaving the
usual joint pains in its aftermath. After another moment, he
straightened slowly. "Sorry," he said.

"Are you all right, Mr. Kent?" Parsons was clearly concerned.
"Would you like me to call the paramedics?"

"No," Lori said. "He gets low blood sugar sometimes. I told you
that you shouldn't have skipped lunch, Clark. Here." She reached in
her bag and produced a chocolate bar. "You're lucky I had this one
with me. You better eat it."

Clark took the bar and peeled the paper with hands that were still
shaking. "Sorry," he said again.

"You better get Mr. Kent something else to eat besides that," Parsons
said. He still looked a little worried.

"I will. We'll stop at McFeegle's Burger Palace on the way out and
get him a cheeseburger," Lori said. She was clearly waiting for him
to eat the chocolate, which he had no desire to do. His stomach was
still feeling slightly queasy, but it was a necessary deception if
Lori's excuse was to be believed. He choked down the bar and
followed it with another sip of water. After a few minutes, he let
Lori help him to his feet. The weakness had vanished completely now,
and the joint pains were fading.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "You don't have to say 'I told
you so', Lori. You were right, as usual."

"Of course I was," she said. "Let's get you back to the car and find
a place to eat. We're sorry about this, Dr. Parsons."

"No trouble at all," Parsons said. "Do you need any help getting
back to the car?"

"No, I'm all right, now," Clark assured the man. "Thanks for your help."

**********

"It was Kryptonite," Clark was saying, some minutes later. "I
couldn't mistake it."

"Then Smitt *was* somewhere around!" Lori said. "Clark, we've got to
get you out of here. I don't want you anywhere near that stuff!"

"It was somewhere nearby, but it wasn't in the room," Clark said.
"Someone must have passed by in the hall outside."

"We'll tell John," Lori said. "Are you *sure* you're okay?"

"Yes, positive." He dropped a kiss on top of her head. "Really,
I've been exposed to the stuff before and survived, as you can see.
Remember, the ring doesn't have anywhere near the amount of
Kryptonite that was in the bracelet. I'm fine, really."

"Well, I still want to get you out of here," Lori said, stubbornly.
"Norton's home sick, and someone around here is carrying a Kryptonite
ring. This is no place for Superman! We'll have to track Norton
down some other way!"

"Okay, okay!" Clark gave in. If he were to admit the truth, the
event had scared him somewhat. They now had unarguable proof that
the poisonous ring was still in Metropolis, and not far away.
Someone in the geology building had it--Gerald Smitt, or someone
else? Whoever it was, he couldn't afford to get too close. They
would have to find some other way of locating it.

"Clark, are you sure you feel okay?" Lori hesitated before letting
him scoop her into his arms. "I remember what happened the last
time."

"I'm fine, honey. This wasn't anywhere near the exposure I got from
the bracelet." He picked her up without hesitation. "We have to go
back by way of the twentieth floor. That's the way we left."

"Details, details. Okay, but if you feel the least bit sick--"

Clark grinned. "Really, I'm okay. Honest! Trust me."

Lori put her arms around his neck and they lifted off. Within a few
minutes, they landed gently on the roof of the Planet and ducked into
the stairwell, to emerge a few seconds later on the twentieth floor.

John wasn't in his office when they arrived in the newsroom, but
Meriel was still at Lori's computer, immersed in some sort of
empire-building game. She glanced around as they crossed the room
toward her. "Hi. Any luck?"

"Yeah, both good and bad," Lori said. "Is your dad around?"

"He'll be back in a few minutes," Meriel said. "What happened?"

"Norton was home 'sick'," Lori said, "but we found something else.
The ring is there, somewhere."

Meriel's eyes widened. "You mean *the* ring?"

"Uh huh," Lori said.

She turned to Clark. "Did you *see* it?"

"No," Clark said. "I just felt it."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. If Smitt is there, though, we didn't see him. It's
possible someone else has it, I suppose."

"We'll find out," Lori said. "We need to get rid of that thing. I
don't want anything out there that can hurt you."

Clark smiled. His young wife seemed to be as protective of him as
the proverbial mother hen. It was amusing in a way. She was far
more easily hurt than he was, yet like Lois before her Lori had
apparently taken it on as her responsibility. "Don't worry, honey.
It'll be all right."

"I'll relax when the ring is under control and not before," Lori
said. "I saw what the bracelet did to you." She glanced up at the
sound of the elevator arriving. "There's John. I want to know
exactly why Smitt left Metro City College. John said it was because
of some personal scandal. I want to know what it was."

**********

John listened without comment to the whole story, leaning back in his
desk chair far enough that he seemed to Clark to be in danger of
tipping over. When Lori had finished, he said, "I don't have the
information, but I'll have our people find out. In the meantime,
Clark, you stay away from NTSU, at least until we have some idea
where the ring ended up."

"John," Clark pointed out, "we don't know that you and Meriel are
safe, either. Ronnie could feel the bracelet's effects, even though
it was some distance away. You two don't have the super powers, but
you're descended from me. It's possible the stuff could affect you,
as well."

"I know. We'll handle it, Clark. Meriel, you heard what I told
Clark. It applies to you, too. I can't order you to stay away, but
please don't go near the place until we have a few more facts."

Meriel nodded. "Don't worry, Dad, I'm not stupid."

John smiled wryly. "No, but I know your habit of attracting trouble.
Sometimes, I think it's hereditary. For the sake of your poor old
dad's grey hairs, though, stay away from NTSU for the time being."

"You don't have any grey hairs," Meriel said.

"A lot you know. Between you and your brothers, I think I've aged an
extra ten years since you hit your teens. Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise. I just hope you guys have this straightened out by
the time the fall semester starts."

"In the meantime," Clark said, "Lori and I will keep going on the
dream dust angle. There may not be any connection between the two."

John raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right. They both have the geology
department in common. That's a coincidence?"

"It could be. There's no reason there should be any connection that
I can see."

"You know how I distrust coincidences."

"Well, yes," Clark admitted, "so do I. But I can't see how the two
could be connected. Unless it turns out Gerald Smitt was dealing
dust at Metro City College."

"Anything's possible," John said. "Just do me one favor. Until we
know for sure, be extra careful, okay? Lori, I'm counting on you to
keep your husband out of trouble."

Lori nodded seriously. "I'm way ahead of you on that, boss."

John smiled. "I imagine you are. The trouble is, you're something
of a trouble magnet yourself. Be careful, both of you." He glanced
at his computer screen, which was out of sight of the two reporters
and Meriel. "In the meantime, the Chief of Police just announced a
press conference at City Hall in about forty-five minutes. I need
somebody to cover it, and you two seem to be available. Get on over
there."

It was six o'clock when Clark and Lori made their way into the quiet
of their apartment. The antique mantle clock sitting on one of the
shelves of his bookcase was just chiming as Clark opened the door.

"Why do I think that press conference assignment was just an excuse
to keep us out of trouble for a while?" Clark muttered, closing the
door behind them.

Lori dropped into the big armchair without a word and let her bag
slide to the floor. "Yeah, probably," she said, "but I don't really
care right now. We'll figure it out tomorrow. Right now, I just
want to take a hot shower and then get some dinner. My dad will be
here in a couple of hours."

"Go ahead," Clark said. "I'll get dinner going. Do you want to call
your dad and see if he'd like to eat here?"

"He's probably having dinner with a client," Lori said. "He said
he'd be here on business today, but I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea
to leave him a message, just in case."

"Okay. I'll do that while you shower." Clark said.

"Thanks," Lori said.

Clark dropped a kiss on her hair. "Then maybe I could join you."

Lori found herself turning pink. The image that suggestion conveyed
attracted her strongly, but she regretfully shook her head. "If we
get involved in that we might forget about the time," she said. "But
how about a raincheck?"

"I think that could be arranged," he said. "Go on, honey, get your
shower and I'll fix dinner."

By the time she emerged from the shower, Lori could smell the aromas
of cooking food beginning to circulate around the apartment. She
dressed quickly in a pair of slacks and a shirt and went into the
kitchen. Clark was whistling softly as he dealt almost
simultaneously with teriyaki chicken breasts, some kind of Japanese
vegetable dish and a cucumber and crab salad. A bottle of wine, the
outer surface coated with moisture, sat open on the kitchen table
beside a pair of chilled glasses. He had found time to change out of
his suit into more casual clothing as well, she noted and stood in
the doorway for several seconds regarding her new husband with
admiration.

"You look good," she said finally, moving forward to the table. "Do
you want me to pour some wine for both of us?"

He turned around, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. "I
could say the same of you. Sure, it's probably ready. Dinner'll be
ready in a few minutes. You like chicken teriyaki, don't you?"

"I love it," Lori assured him. "Did you get hold of Dad?"

"Yeah. He's having dinner with a client at the Lexor."

"I figured it was something like that." She glanced at her wrist for
about the twentieth time that day, only to recall again that her
wrist talker was in the shop. "I think I need to get a substitute
until my regular wrist talker is fixed," she said, in exasperation.

"It wouldn't hurt," Clark said. "You can probably get one at Green's."

Lori poured the wine and handed him a glass. "I think I'll do that."
She took a swallow of the wine. "Mm, nice."

"I picked it up at a little winery I know the last time I was in
Germany," Clark said. "They advertise that Superman buys his wine
there."

"Really?"

"Sure. The owner always makes sure my favorites are available. He's
done it ever since I put out a fire at his place and saved the
business a little over a year ago. I didn't have the heart to tell
him he shouldn't, since he seems to enjoy it so much. And he gets
the free advertising, of course."

"Of course," Lori said. "What's the time?"

Clark glanced at his own wrist. "Quarter to seven." He picked up
the pan bare-handed and transferred the chicken breasts deftly to the two
plates. "There we go. Now for the veggies, and if you'll just serve
the salad, I think we can eat."

**********

The door chime sounded only a minute before eight. Lori glanced at
Clark, who rose quickly from the sofa. "It's your dad."

Lori swallowed, but said nothing as Clark went to answer the door.
Robert Lyons stood there, a small wrapped parcel in his hands.

"Hello, Rob," Clark said. "Come in."

"Thank you." He entered and smiled at Lori where she stood in the
middle of the living room. "Hello, Lori."

"Hi, Dad."

Her father glanced around the apartment. "You have a nice place
here. Very homey."

"Thank you," Clark said. He indicated the armchair. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you." Rob glanced at the package. "I thought I should bring
you a wedding gift. Here, Lori."

"Oh, Dad, you didn't need to."

"It isn't much. My mother wanted you to have this on your wedding
day." He took his seat and folded his hands in his lap. Lori sank
down onto the sofa, and Clark sat beside her.

"Why don't you open it, honey?"

Lori smiled and pulled at the ribbon. It came loose easily, and she
carefully detached the tape holding the paper in place. She was
beginning to suspect what it might be, and when the little white box
came into view, she knew she was right. "Oh, Dad!" she breathed,
opening the lid. Inside lay her Grandmother Lyons' delicate locket
with the white cameo on the cover, that she had seen her grandmother
wear from the time she was a little girl. "Grandma's locket! Oh,
thank you!"

"I thought you'd like to have it," her father said.

"Oh, I do!" With trembling fingers, she put it around her neck. Her
fingers shook so much that she couldn't fasten the tiny catch, and
Clark took it, clipping it together for her.

Robert Lyons smiled. "Your grandmother wanted you to have it," he
said. "She remembered how much you always liked it."

"I did," she said. "I wish she could have lived to see me married."

"She would have been pleased to see you as happy as you are," Rob
said. He looked down at his hands and then back up at Lori and
Clark. "I'm sorry," he said, abruptly. "Mariann isn't being very
pleasant right now, and I'd understand if you didn't want to see
either one of us. You deserve an explanation."

"Well, I admit, I don't really understand her attitude at all," Clark
said, "but it isn't your fault. I'm glad to have the chance to get
better acquainted with you and Lori wouldn't like it much if she
couldn't see you."

Robert Lyons nodded soberly. "I'm happy for both of you," he said.
"I could see the first time I met you at her graduation that she
thought the world of you, Clark. And, of course, I don't agree with
my wife's prediction that it will ruin her career. I don't think
Mariann really believes it herself, underneath--at least not anymore."

"Then why does she say the things she does?" Lori asked. "If I were
in your place I'd be angry, the way she always blames you for ruining
her career. We all know you never made her quit her job."

He nodded. "I know, Lori, but there's more behind it than you
realize. Of course, I didn't make her quit her career--I would never
make her do anything she didn't want to do. It's always been a
convenient excuse for her, and I didn't mind, because I knew it was
mostly a defense mechanism. It's less painful for her to blame me
than to blame herself--especially after everything she went through
to get the education she did. If it makes her happier to believe
it..." He broke off. "I only wanted her to be happy, Lori. Your
mother had a lot to overcome, and I loved her. I still do, but I
can't support her in this. You have the right to lead your own life;
she has no right to try to make you lead the one she wants you to.
Clark, you know our family is Traditionalist, don't you?"

"Yes," Clark said. "I'm something of a traditionalist, myself."

Rob nodded. "Have you ever heard of the High Traditionalists?"

"They were one of a number of splinter groups that broke away from
the Traditionalists during the Decade of Unrest," Clark said. "Their
leader, Nolan Vega, was a very charismatic man, with strict ideas
about a woman's proper place." He saw the surprised look on Robert
Lyons' face and added, "I'm a student of history. Things like that
interest me."

"I see. That's pretty accurate. Then you probably know that their
group retreated from society for some time to avoid the riots and
gang wars and all the rest of the civil disturbances of the time, and
went back to the land. After things quieted down, they didn't change
very much. They still have a large settlement in the Midwest, and
the outside world is kept pretty much at bay. The law, of course,
mandates that children must be educated through high school, but
their women are still taught to be obedient handmaidens to their
fathers, brothers, and later their husbands--who are chosen for them
by their parents. Mariann's family was High Traditionalist, and
that's the environment where Mariann grew up."

"I see," Clark said. "Her attitude is beginning to make a little
more sense, now, but I still don't understand why she's so determined
that Lori stay single for the sake of her career."

"Their community is like a little island that somehow never got out
of the Nineteenth Century," Robert Lyons said. "Only worse.
Mariann's father was extremely strict even among the rest of his
group. When she told him she wanted more of an education and a
career, he beat her to within an inch of her life. She still has the
scars from his attempts to make her into a 'decent' woman. She hated
him. She ran away at sixteen."

"I can see why," Clark said.

"Why didn't she tell Marcy and me this?" Lori asked. "We would have
understood."

"She didn't want you to know," Robert Lyons said. "I think she was
ashamed of it. She even told you that her parents were dead,
remember? For all I know, they could still be very much alive, but
she's never had any contact with them since she left home. Anyway,
she finished high school and put herself through business school by
working, taking care of other people's children, cleaning homes, and
qualifying for scholarships. She's amazingly intelligent, you know.
That was where I met her. After she graduated, she went to work for
the firm that had hired me and worked there for several years. She
and I were friends--at least from her side. I was crazy about her
from the start. The problem was that after all that, she found out
she wasn't happy in her career. She wanted a husband and
children--but she couldn't admit how she felt. To her, it would have
been a tacit admission that her father had been right after all. I
knew she didn't love me, but I didn't care. I loved her, and I asked
her to marry me. She liked me well enough, and it was her way out."
He sighed. "She quit her job by choice--it wasn't something I wanted
her to do, but I don't think she's ever forgiven herself for what she
saw as a failure on her part. She had to pretend it was the marriage
that made her quit her job. Anything else would have been too
painful."

"She didn't fail!" Lori burst out.

"You know that, and so do I," Robert Lyons said, "but your mother
doesn't. As the years have gone by she's gotten more like her father
in some ways--he was very controlling, and so is she, now. It's
gotten to be almost an obsession with her. She wanted you and Marcy
to do what she didn't. I understand that, but I can't agree with
her. You have the right to your own lives--just as she did."

"I don't want to fight with her," Lori said, "but I'm not going to
divorce Clark to make her happy."

"I don't expect you to," Robert Lyons said. "Mariann has a lot of
conflicts and problems. I've talked to her about counseling. She
isn't ready to agree yet, but I think she will, eventually. She's
miserable the way she is, right now. I just wanted to explain to you
what's really going on with her, and to ask you to be patient. Do
you think you can?"

Clark reached out to take his wife's hand. "I'll do whatever you
decide, honey," he said. "It's up to you."

She met her father's pleading expression and nodded. "Yeah," she
said. "I guess we can."

Robert Lyons smiled. "Thanks, Lori," he said. "I think things will
get better, but it's going to take a while. Your mother has a lot to
work through. I don't want you to feel guilty in the meantime. You
had every right to do as you did, and I'm glad that you married a man
who loves you as much as Clark does. I hope Marcy finds as much
happiness as you have, someday."

Lori gulped. "I think she will, Dad," she said. "She called me last
night. She's met a guy she says she really loves. He's asked her to
marry him for life--none of those six-month play-marriage things.
She said she needed to think it over to be sure, but it really was
what she wanted to do."

"I hope so," Rob said. "I worried about her more than I did you,
Lori. You were always the thinker. Marcy was the rebel, like your
mom. She jumped into marriage just to get away from home. I don't
think any of her six-month contracts made her very happy. She wanted
the real thing, but she's had a hard time finding it."

"Maybe she has, now," Lori said. "I'm glad you explained about Mom,
Dad. At least now I understand why she acts like she does, even if
it isn't very pleasant. I feel kind of sorry for her."

"Just try to be patient," Rob said. "Your mother is going to have to
realize that she has no right to try to control anyone's life but her
own. She isn't even doing very well at that right now. I think
she'll accept the idea of getting counseling eventually. We've
talked about it and I hope she'll begin to see that her obsession is
ruining her life."

Lori hesitated. "You still love her," she said, "even if she doesn't
love you?"

Rob nodded. "I always will, Lori. She's always been my best friend.
I can live with that, if I have to."

"I can understand that," Clark said. He regarded the other man with
respect. Robert Lyons had loyalty and the courage to deal with the
situation in which he found himself. Clark didn't envy him, though.
Rob had a difficult time ahead of him, but at least he knew what he
was up against. He thought Mariann Lyons was a lot more fortunate
than she knew.

Lori's father stayed for another hour talking about more pleasant
subjects. When he left, he kissed Lori and turned to Clark. "I'm
glad my daughter found you, Clark. I knew when I saw you again in
Houston that I'd be hearing about your marriage before long."

"I'm lucky to have found *her*," Clark said. "She's an amazing
person." He put an arm around his wife. "I'm glad you came by, Rob.
Lori didn't want you to be angry with her because of this."

"I'm not," Rob said. "Your mom's problems aren't your fault, Lori.
I think you've chosen the best way to deal with her. She's going to
have to realize that if she doesn't take a look at her own behavior,
she's going to alienate her whole family. I think she'll see it
after while. And," he added, with a smile, "I'll be at your big
wedding in October, even if she isn't."

**********

When Robert Lyons had gone, Lori turned to Clark and put her arms
around him, resting her head on his chest. Clark automatically put
his around her. "Is everything all right, honey?"

Lori nodded, not releasing her grip on him. "I think so. I feel bad
for Mother, though--and for Dad. I never knew all that stuff about
her before. Maybe I should have been more understanding."

"Lori," Clark said, "don't start feeling guilty. She didn't want you
to know. It's all right to feel sorry for her, but it isn't all
right to let her control your life because of it. Would you have
wanted to stay single to make her happy?"

Lori shook her head. "No."

"That's good, because, take it from me, that wouldn't have worked
either. It would simply have made you unhappy along with her. It's
up to your mom--with your dad's encouragement--to get help. You
can't fix it. It was never in your power, or your sister's, to fix
it, so blaming yourself is not only useless, it's misdirected. Your
mother is a grown woman; maybe it's time she took a little
responsibility for herself."

Lori nodded against his chest. "You're right, but if I ever start
acting like my mother, tell me. I want to stop it before it starts."

Clark chuckled. "I don't think you're the kind of person to hide
from problems, honey. You're more the kind who charges in and takes
them on no matter what the cost, like you did with the security
problem at NTSU when we first met. That's one of the things I love
about you."

She looked up at him. "Really?"

"Well, yes--and just by coincidence, you have a great body too."

Lori giggled, suddenly feeling much better. "That's what I like
about you. You have this instinctive grasp of the important things
in life."

"Mmm--let's hear it for instinct," Clark said and lowered his face to
hers. Lori closed her eyes and kissed him back enthusiastically.
After all, they might not have gone anywhere exotic after their
wedding, but they were technically honeymooners, weren't they? The
floating sensation she experienced then wasn't entirely because of
the kiss, she discovered a few seconds later. They were drifting
across the floor about four inches above the rug, rotating slowly.
At her breathless giggle, Clark looked down and laughed.

"See what you do to my concentration?" he said.

"I guess even Superman can be distracted," Lori observed.

"Given the right distraction, you bet," Clark replied, quite cheerfully.

"Am I that much of a distraction?"

"Much more," Clark asserted. "You're the worst kind of distraction
because I don't even want to fight it." They drifted toward the
bedroom, still several inches above the rug, Lori giggling
helplessly. Her laughter was contagious and Clark joined in.

**********

As happened often, Lori was aware on some level that she was
dreaming. She shifted in bed, snuggling against her husband's side
and sank more deeply into the dream images that swirled around her
and resolved themselves into Centennial Park at night. She wasn't
alone, and she wasn't Lori. She was someone else who was also her,
and in the dream it didn't disturb her at all. Beside her, his face
partially illuminated by the old fashioned lights that still adorned
the park was Clark, but not the Clark of today. As in the picture at
the Daily Planet, he wore a pair of glasses and the clothing of the
period. He was speaking, but his words were muffled, as if she were
hearing them through layers of cotton.

They had stopped beside a fountain, and he was still speaking. He
pushed her gently onto the seat at the base of the fountain and
started to speak again.

Lightning flashed and as abruptly, rain began to pour over both of
them. Clark looked up in exasperation. "Come on! Give me a break!"
The muffled sensation that had surrounded her was suddenly gone and
his words were sharp and clear.

Lori heard herself laugh. "Do you want to go back?"

"If the earth opened up at my feet, I wouldn't move until I'd said
this," Clark said. He knelt. "Lois," he began, and produced a small
box wherein nestled a gold ring with a glittering diamond, "will you
marry me?"

Lori's eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed, inhaling air in
a great gasp. Clark shot into a sitting position almost at the same
time. "Lori? What's wrong?"

She took another deep breath and blew it out. Clark took her by the
shoulders. "Lori? Are you all right?"

Numbly, she nodded. The dream had been vivid, disturbingly so. She
could still see the images and feel the emotions it had evoked in
her. In that dream, she had been Lois Lane, Clark's first wife.
Slowly, she turned and examined Clark's face, barely visible in the
dimness. Her racing heartbeat was slowing, but the tingle of
adrenaline still raced along her nerves.

"Lori?" Clark said. "What's the matter?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "Nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing. Did you have a bad dream?"

"Not exactly." She took a last deep breath. "It was a dream, but..."

"Well, it must have been a heck of a dream."

"I dreamed I was Lois. We were in Centennial Park by the fountain,
and you were proposing to me in the rain." She laughed nervously.
"What does that say about me, dreaming something like that?"

He was staring at her. "In the *rain*?"

"Yeah. Crazy, huh?"

He was slow to answer. "Well...it's certainly different. Are you
sure you're okay?"

"I think so. It just...startled me." It had more than startled her;
it had shocked her, because it felt so real. She had never had such
a vivid dream.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No...no. It was silly."

"Not if it shook you up this much. Your pulse is still fast. What happened?"

Lori shivered. The chronometer said it was two in the morning and
the apartment was chilly, even if it was summer. Clark noticed.

"Here, get under the covers. I'll be right back." In a gust of air,
he was gone. Before she could count to twenty, he was back, handing
her a mug of what turned out to be hot chocolate. "Drink this.
It'll help you warm up and relax."

Lori leaned back against the headboard and obediently sipped the
chocolate. Clark had slipped into the bed again so smoothly that he
hadn't even jostled the mattress. Only when she felt the springs
creak slightly as he too leaned back against the headboard, did she
realize he had been floating to avoid shaking the bed.

As he had predicted, the drink warmed her, and she felt herself
relaxing. Clark was watching her closely. "Feeling better?"

She nodded. "Thanks, Clark."

"Don't mention it. Now, about that dream..."

She laughed a little nervously. "It wasn't that big a deal, really.
We were in Centennial Park. It was night, and we were walking
together. You were wearing glasses, like the ones in that picture at
the Planet. You were talking to me, but I couldn't hear what you
were saying. Then you made me sit down on that bench by the
fountain, and all of a sudden, it began to rain. And you
said...'Come on! Give me a break...'" She stopped.

"And?" Clark's voice seemed slightly unnatural.

"You said you were going to say something no matter what: 'If the
earth opened up at my feet,'" she quoted. "And you got down on one
knee and took out a ring and asked me to marry you. That's all I
remember. Weird, huh?"

Clark didn't answer at first. Then he shook his head. "Yeah, really strange."

"Maybe it was the chicken teriyaki," Lori said. "Or maybe it was
because Dad came to visit tonight."

"Yeah, maybe." Clark took the now empty cup and set it on the table
by his side of the bed. "Lie back down now and try to go back to
sleep, if you think you can."

Lori turned her head to examine his face. "Are you upset, Clark?"

"No, of course not. Come on, now, lie down." Suiting his actions to
the words, he slid under the covers and held out his arm. Lori
scooted down next to him. He put his arms around her and she felt
the remaining tension drain from her within seconds. Somehow, being
held by Clark was more reassuring than all the hot chocolate in the
world.

"Feel better?" he asked, softly.

"Mm hmm." She found herself yawning. "Thanks, Clark."

"You're welcome. Go to sleep, now."

**********

After Lori had dozed off, Clark lay staring at the ceiling for some
time, running the incident over and over in his mind. Lori had
described almost exactly what had happened the evening he had
proposed to Lois. That couldn't be a coincidence, he knew. As he
had halfway suspected, although Lori certainly wasn't Lois, somewhere
under the surface were traces of Lois's memories. Everyone had deja
vu occasionally; it had happened to him every now and then too, but
this clearly was something out of the ordinary. Lois had never had
these flashes, anymore than anyone else did, but Lois had never been
immersed in reminders of her previous incarnation, whatever it had
been, every day of her life. Not only that, it
was doubtful if in
any other life she had met or married her soulmate of the previous
one. It appeared that there was a certain amount of carryover; it
must simply be that this situation had rarely if ever arisen before.

The question was, how far would it go? How far *could* it go? Would
Lori turn into Lois? He doubted it, but to his amazement, he found
that he wasn't entirely happy at the prospect. As much as he loved
and would always love Lois, he loved Lori as well. He didn't want to
lose her.

The worries and conjectures floated around in his mind for some time.
Lori shifted a little against him and murmured in her sleep, and he
found that he had tightened his grip on her. He consciously relaxed
it. Holding onto her physically couldn't stop what was happening.
He would just have to hope that the situation would stabilize at some
point. Perhaps he could talk to Rhonda on Sunday. His granddaughter
was a remarkably practical person and he tended to go to her for
advice or when he needed to talk over a difficult situation. The
decision made, he was able to relax somewhat and shelve the problem
for the present. Even Superman needed sleep occasionally, and Friday
had been a day of more than the usual stresses.

Gently, he pressed a light kiss on the top of Lori's head and closed
his eyes. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof..." Who had
said that, he wondered drowsily, but he was too tired to follow the
thought further.

**********

The soft chiming of the vidphone awakened him the next morning. A
glance at the wall chronometer informed him it was nearly eight
o'clock. This was Saturday, and he and Lori didn't need to be in to
work until noon, but Clark had plans for the morning. Lori still
slept beside him, her dark hair tousled against the pillow, and he
levitated gently out of the bed to avoid disturbing her, grabbing for
the robe lying across the nearest chair.

Closing the bedroom door, he glanced at the machine. The I.D. on the
screen informed him that the call originated from the office of the
Planet's editor. "Yes?"

John's face appeared. His eyebrows flew up as he took in Clark's
appearance. "Oh, to be a newlywed. Looks like I woke you up."

"You did, but I wanted to get up early, anyway." Clark tightened the
sash of his robe. "What's so urgent, anyhow?"

"Lori asked for some information, yesterday, after the two of you got
back from NTSU. I just got a call from one of our investigators.
The scandal at Metro City College involved a...'relationship' between
Gerald Smitt and one of his TAs, a graduate student by the name of
Deborah Tisdale. Apparently, she left at the same time Smitt did and
returned home to Cleveland. If we can't locate Smitt by Monday,
we'll try to find her and see if she can shed any light on the
situation, but it seems like a long shot."

"Any further word on Smitt?"

"Not yet." John said. "We haven't given up yet, though. We're
checking around NTSU for hiring records over the last few months.
I'll keep you informed. When will we be seeing you, today?"

"We'll probably be in around noon," Clark said. "There are a few
things I want to check out this morning."

"Are you one hundred percent today? After yesterday, I don't want
you anywhere around the college campus."

"It'll be all right, John," Clark assured him. "I've dealt with
Kryptonite before in the hands of much more formidable persons than a
college professor. Remind me to tell you about Jason Trask
sometime." He glanced at the bedroom door as it opened. Lori,
wearing the satin and lace dressing gown that went with the Paris
creation she had worn, however briefly, on their wedding night,
emerged. He saw John grin and added hastily, "I'll talk to you
later."

"No problem. See you around noon." The screen went off.

"What did John want?" Lori asked.

He repeated the information for her benefit. "This morning I wanted
to see if we can track down Lester Norton. He may or may not still
be home 'sick' but we might be able to find out something about his
associates. There's still the dream dust problem to deal with."

"As soon as I can get dressed I'll see if I can find his address,"
Lori said. "Why don't you go get your shower?"

"I seem to remember a raincheck," Clark said, teasingly, and watched
with amusement as her cheeks turned a delicate pink. "I think we can
put that off until tonight, though. I wanted to get a jumpstart on
this thing today. We don't know if Norton will be back at NTSU when
the fall semester begins, and today is the last day before they close
down for the summer. Would you like the bathroom first?"

"No, you go ahead. You're faster than I am." Lori hesitated.
"Um...I wanted to mention something, by the way."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Ever since you told us about Ryan yesterday, I meant to tell
you but things kept happening. Marcy called me after you left, night
before last. Remember, you said Ryan told you he's found the right
woman?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know who it is."

Clark paused for a long moment, then, with a sense of inevitability
said, "Marcy."

Lori nodded. "I'm sorry. I should have said something, but--"

Clark smiled wryly. "Why? Ryan didn't."

"Well, I kept intending to, but one thing after another happened, and
I just forgot. Are you upset?"

"No, of course not."

Lori looked worried. "Are you sure? I mean, I know Marcy doesn't
have the best record when it comes to men in general, and marriage in
particular, and..."

"Honey." Clark walked over to her and put his arms around her.
"Ryan doesn't have much of a record in that area, either. Marriage,
I mean. He's been waiting for the right woman. If he thinks Marcy
is the right woman, it's none of my business. Just because I'm his
grandfather doesn't give me a say. I have to trust his judgement."

Lori looked relieved. "I thought there might be some kind of rule
about who you could marry, or something."

Clark shook his head. "Of course not. We have to be sure, but if
Ryan trusts Marcy, then that's all I need to know." He grinned
suddenly. "It's going to be interesting when she finds out that
you're her step-grandmother-in-law, though."

Lori looked stunned for an instant, then began to laugh. "I hadn't
thought of that! Clark, we're going to have a very strange family
tree!"

"We have a very strange family," Clark said, seriously. "It just
keeps life interesting." He added, "And if we stand here like this
for much longer I'm going to forget all of my sterling resolutions
about the raincheck. I better go get that shower. I think I'll make
it a cold one."

**********

When they stepped outside the apartment some forty minutes later, the
sky was shrouded with heavy black clouds and a light rain was
falling. Little puddles of muddy water dotted the pavement

Lori pulled her raincoat tightly about her. "It sure would be nice
to have a groundcar right now," she remarked.

Clark spotted a taxi and whistled sharply. "Why don't we visit a
dealer after we check on Mr. Norton, if there's time?"

"That sounds good to me." She stepped back from the curb to avoid
the water splashed about by the wheels of passing traffic.

The ground taxi screeched to a stop in front of them, spraying water
in all directions. Clark reflected that the taxi drivers of
Metropolis hadn't changed much in a hundred years. They still drove
like maniacs. He opened the door for Lori and clambered in after
her, then surreptitiously fanned low-level heat vision over her,
drying her exposed clothing.

"Where to?" the driver inquired.

Clark gave him Lester Norton's address and the taxi peeled away from
the curb with a jerk and a squeal of tires, barely missing a tour bus
and peppering pedestrians behind them with mud and water. The driver
took the corner on two wheels, throwing Lori against him. He could
feel the car's stabilizer fighting to keep them upright and wrapped
an arm around his wife, gritting his teeth as the tail end of the
groundcar skidded sideways frantically. The driver fought his
vehicle back under control and shot under the nose of a fuel truck to
beat the traffic signal. That did it. As soon as they had time this
morning, they were going to get Lori a car. This was the last time
she was going to risk her life in one of these things, if he had any
say about it. It was apparent to him that the driver of the taxi had
a death wish.

Twenty minutes later, the driver, undaunted, pulled his taxi to a
sliding stop against the curb of a quiet, tree-lined street not far
from the university. Clark paid him and got out, followed by Lori.
The taxi driver took off with the shriek of tortured rubber and Clark
pulled Lori out of the way of the shower of mud he left in his wake.

"Wow," Lori said. "Who needs a roller coaster after that?"

"Roller coasters are safer," Clark said. "And cheaper. Let's go see
if Mr. Norton is home."

Lester Norton lived in a small, shabby room in a boarding house not
far from the NTSU campus, but the only individual present was an
elderly housekeeper. Mr. Norton, she told them, had left for the
college half an hour before. Clark took the opportunity to x-ray the
man's room but nothing obviously suspicious was visible. The room had
very little to identify the occupant, much less anything to indicate
possible associates. As they returned down the walk, Lori said,
"What now?"

"Well, I can't go near the geology building until we find out where
the ring is," Clark said, "but there's nothing to stop me from flying
over it and taking a look."

"Let's go," Lori said. "I'd rather fly in the rain with you than
risk my life in another taxi, anyway."

Clark grinned. "We'll fly above the rain, okay?"

"Okay." They headed for the nearest secluded area and a moment later
Superman and his passenger were in the air and headed for the
university grounds at cloud level. They avoided a police aircar that
passed by not far away and Lori covered her face until it was out of
sight.

"I don't think that's really necessary," Clark observed. "Even if we
were close enough, I don't think the Metro police are going to take
any pictures. If it was a tabloid photographer, now, it would be
another story."

"I prefer not to take chances," Lori said. "Police are people, too."
She wrinkled her nose, an expression that was purely Lori. Lois had
never done that, he thought. "I remember a tabloid photo of Blue
Lightning carrying a woman, a couple of years ago. She was covering
her face, too. There was this big hue and cry, with the press trying
to track down the mystery woman."

Clark remembered that. "That was his wife, Michelle. You might
remember what happened, though. They asked him about it."

Lori giggled. "Yeah, I do. He told them it was none of their
business. There was a lot of screaming about the public's right to
know and a couple of women tried to claim they were his mystery
woman, but they were discredited." She snorted. "Bottom feeders!"

Clark smiled. His pretty wife had the same opinion of the tabloids
that every responsible journalist had. Not that he wanted any
so-called "responsible" journalists to find out about her, either.
"They're always trying to link us with celebrities and scandals," he
remarked, matter-of-factly. "We ignore it, but it sells." He ceased
his forward motion, hovering just within the bottom layers of cloud.
"Here we are. Are you cold?"

"No, not really. You're pretty warm. Do you see anything?"

Clark was scanning the geology building below them. "Nope. There
are three people inside--Parsons, some guy I've never seen before and
the janitor."

"I take it there's no sign of the ring, either," Lori said.

"Not that I can see."

"No sign of Norton?"

"No."

"Great. Where do you suppose he is?"

"Not here," Clark said. "His stuff was in his room, though, so he'll
be back there, eventually."

"What do we do? Stake out his room all day?"

Clark shook his head. "John can assign someone to do that. Maybe
the new intern."

Lori sighed happily. "It feels awfully good not to be at the bottom
of the food chain anymore."

Clark smiled, scanning the geology building again. "Whoever has the
ring, he's not here today, either."

"Do you suppose Gerald Smitt could be teaching here under another
name?" Lori speculated. "Or maybe someone else has the ring. Maybe
it's a student, or a TA or something. Metro City College is
affiliated with New Troy State. Students transfer here from MCC all
the time. One of them could have it."

"Maybe," Clark said. "Right now, I'm going to call John, and then
we're going to visit a groundcar dealer. Do you have any
preferences?"

**********