Clark expected the next question to be about the Kents. Instead, the general who had asked most of the questions said, "Torini, bring that bag in."
He felt sick again, pain arcing through his body like electricity, as the general took the bag and poured the contents on the table in front of him. "Are these the same kind of rocks?"
Clark couldn't talk, but managed a nod. There were even more than the target and the girl had and he hadn't even thought that pain like this existed. He wasn't even aware of moving but his chair tumbled to the side and he fell to the floor. It was only a few more inches distance between him and the rocks, but it was enough that he could raise a hand in a wordless plea. He knew that he deserved to be punished, punished severely, but this was more than he could endure without asking them to be merciful. American justice can be merciful, he remembered, trying to repeat the thought in his head.
The pain faded slightly and he looked up. They were being merciful--they were putting some of the rocks back in the bag and putting them in a corner in the far end of the room. "Thank you," he whispered, his throat feeling as though it were beating like a heart and each beat hammered exposed nerves.
The general ignored him, addressing the others. "Ladies, gentlemen, if you have no further questions, I suggest that we proceed." Clark watched muzzily as each wrote something on a piece of paper, folded it, and passed it to him. He read each and put it in one of two piles in front of him, one pile with just two slips, the other with the rest.
"Thirteen votes say that he is now an overall liability, two that he is still an overall asset." He got up and Clark watched him fearfully. "I believe the majority decision is wise. While he has brought each of us a fortune, and while some of us have, to a small extent, grown attached to him, he now represents a danger, one which we finally know how to remove." His lips parted and he hesitated, then said, firmly, "Mr. Spencer, Ms. Williams?" A man and a woman rose. "Make it quick. I'll take the cadaver to Zurich for the auction and we'll divide the proceeds along the usual lines."
Clark cringed as the two approached him while the others left, some taking an instant to look back at him with a trace of regret. The thought of death terrified him in a way he never would have expected. And why did the general talk about fortunes and an auction and proceeds? None of them talked about what was best for the country.
Spencer looked uncertainly at Williams. "What do you think, make him swallow it?"
"That'd be the first try." She scooped a piece into her hand. "Get him upright, please." Clark whimpered. Spencer had given him some of his first assignments and often congratulated him when they were done. The man moved behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and braced him up against the wall. When he tried to turn away, Williams said, almost gently, "Don't fight, child. It will just make things harder." With the tiny strength that was left, he clenched his teeth together and as she gripped his face to force his mouth open, tried again to turn. Even with the pain, the bewilderment, the betrayal, he didn't want to die. He didn't want to be a cadaver taken to Zurich and auctioned. Her fingers slipped on his sweat-moistened face and she grunted, impatiently.
"Try bracing him against yourself. I can't get leverage from this angle." Spencer changed his stance and without the wall as support, Clark felt himself flopping like a broken limb. He tried to grab her arm in a last plea but was unable to move even his own hands. She was prying his jaw open and then, using a meteor instead of her fingers, shoved it between his lips. As the rock touched the sensitive gums, he was unable to prevent a scream. Her hand moving almost as fast as his had, she jammed another meteor in his mouth, then as implacably as she had opened his mouth, held it shut.
"Just swallow it, child, it will finish faster," she urged, almost gently. "There. You're going to be good, aren't you?" With one hand, she rubbed his throat, and he fought the instinct to swallow, to let the muscles follow the motion. "You're going to be good, do what you're told like you always have for us, aren't you?" she crooned. Her voice was so soothing, like cool water running over burnt flesh, that part of him wanted to be obedient, to be good, and to do what he was told. He always had, until now, hadn't he? In that instant, her hair seemed to change from blond to red, parted at the side and falling a bit past her chin. Surrendering, he tried to swallow, but now his muscles wouldn't obey him even in that. He met her eyes once more, trying to convey that he had yielded, that he was obeying orders again, but his body was betraying him. She seemed to understand. "There. Just open." He wasn't able to open his mouth more than a tiny bit, but it was enough for her to slip a finger in, lever it further open, and push a rock onto his tongue and to the back of his throat. The pain made him whimper again but he was going to be strong. He was going to be good. She picked up another rock and Clark heard a clamor that he thought was just in his head until he saw them start at the noise. Smoke drifted in from the corridor and Spencer began to cough, followed shortly by Williams.
"Got to...get out of here..." she choked.
"What about him?"
"Leave him. If the greenies don't kill him, whatever this is will," she gasped, a few words at a time. Crouching low, they left the room and Clark, released, felt, with no awareness of having fallen, the tough carpet against his face. The rocks slipped out of his open mouth but now he didn't have to do anything. He could be good and dutiful just by waiting there. That was almost easy.
***
"Mad scientist," Lana laughed, more than a little nervously as Lex, frowning in concentration, lined up the last of the projectiles, as they crouched in nearby shrubbery. She'd taken it in stride when, after watching the man they were pursuing go into what looked like an ordinary five-floor commercial building, he said, as though it were obvious to anyone, that what they needed was to lob in smoke bombs, sulfur, and anything that would break and release flour into the air. It made sense--that would clear the building and cause probably moderate panic, which would let them get in and search. It had been disconcerting when Jonathan interjected that they'd passed a gun shop, and Lex nodded, saying that most of what they'd need they could find there. He'd bought nearly everything on hand, from axes to riot gear to gas masks. She was alarmed as Lex, aided by Jonathan, quickly constructed what looked like a miniature rocket launcher. What scared her, though, was when she asked if the angle wasn't too high and Lex looked at the building, at the launcher again, and lowered it accordingly. Jonathan and Martha helped one another put on the gas masks and other gear, and Lana nodded that they looked quite authentic, then Martha helped her and Lex put gear on, though Lex left the gas mask on the ground, claiming it would obstruct his vision.
Lex checked it over once more and then, looking far more gleeful than Lana was quite ready for, started firing the improvised grenades through windows, following a downward slash from floor to floor. A few broke against the walls, but most crashed right through the windows, and smoke started to billow out.
Jonathan and Martha ran to the doors, and after a moment's gesticulation at somebody who tried to stop them, continued in. Lex continued to fire and they watched for the man they'd followed to come out. If he came out sooner than most, they'd start with the lower floors first, if after most, the higher floors.
He was in one of the last waves. Lex scooped up the mask and they ran for the doors. People made way for them and since there were still people leaving the building, they pounded up the stairs rather than be seen taking the elevator. Reaching the fourth floor, they separated, Lex taking one corridor, Lana the other.
The first rooms seemed innocuous, a doctor's office, an accountant's, and a lawyer's. No hidden rooms, as far as she could tell, nothing suspicious. She had high hopes of one labeled "Importers" where there were dozens of sealed cardboard boxes, but after tearing one open, all she saw were dozens of hard-core pornography magazines. She ran to the next office, which she had to break open with the axe. Since it was a dentist's, she rather enjoyed it. But nothing there, either. The last office on the corridor was labeled "Gold exchange." The door was steel, rather than wood, and the glass looked thick. She swung her axe as hard as she could at the glass, gasping as the blow rebounded, painfully. Another three blows and there was a crack in the glass. Using the axe blade as a lever, she wedged it in the crack, then threw her weight against the handle. Enough of the glass came out that she could carefully enter. The first door on the inside that she tried was a closet. She'd gotten the right one, Clark's jacket was hanging neatly inside.
"LEX!!!!!!!" she shouted, hoping it would be faster than using the phone. She opened the steel door but the figure pounding towards her wasn't Lex or one of the Kents. Okay, she could manage this one. Trying to hit just hard enough, she brought the blunt end of the axe handle down on his head. It worked. She decided she was becoming downright dangerous, with a good deal of pride.
She bellowed for Lex again, before giving up and dialing. "Found the place. Last doors. I'm going in to look for him. Call the Kents."
The office was a maze, she decided, angrily. Hearing motion behind her, she turned, raising her axe again. "I'm on your side," Lex said, mock-reproachfully. "Check this side," she ordered, turning the other way. She quickly scanned each room for either Clark or another doorway. She'd never have noticed a doorway in a drably carpeted storeroom if there hadn't been a crack showing, the door having been closed in too much haste, she guessed.
Clark was lying, face down, against one of the walls, so motionless she was afraid that he was dead. There were green rocks scattered near him, and she gathered them up, tossing them into the outer office. She carefully lifted his head and saw that he was still breathing. There were more rocks underneath him and she threw those as far away as she could as well. His eyes opened and after several anxious moments, seemed to focus on her.
"He's in here!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, and heard the pounding of approaching runners. Martha entered first, followed shortly by Jonathan. Lex stuck his head in. "He's all right?"
"Going to be," Martha said, as she crouched next to Clark, who seemed to be regaining strength.
"I'll get the files here." He disappeared again and Martha and Lana helped Clark to stand. Jonathan steadied him and supported him out of the room. Lex was smashing open cabinets and finding apparently very little, judging from the frustrated way he plunged at the next.
"We don't need the damn files," Jonathan shouted.
"Like hell we don't! You think he's going to know about himself?"
"He's safe and that's the only thing that matters."
Lex looked at him almost coldly. "That's what matters most to you." At the sound of sirens, the men dropped their glares and after one angry grimace, Lex picked up a laptop, seemingly on general principles more than a belief that it would have the answers, tucked it under one arm, and followed them out.
Clark seemed to regain his strength the moment they were outside the office and away from the meteors. He looked bewildered, but took Martha's offered hand with a child-like trust that made Lana's throat tighten.
They made their way out of the building without being stopped and ran to the parked cars. Martha helped Clark into the back seat of one, telling him to lie down and rest.
"There's a professor at Cal Tech I'd trust with him. We can fly him right there."
Jonathan fixed Lex with another glare and Lana, seeing the anger between them as if it were rising in palpable waves, said, irritably, "Shouldn't we get out of here first?"
"She's right," Martha said quickly. "Not back to the airport."
"There's a penthouse in DC. Shouldn't be more than two hours." Lex got into the car and waited for Lana to follow him. Jonathan tensely nodded and he and Martha got into the other, Jonathan getting into the back, gathering Clark's head onto his lap as Lana watched.
He felt sick again, pain arcing through his body like electricity, as the general took the bag and poured the contents on the table in front of him. "Are these the same kind of rocks?"
Clark couldn't talk, but managed a nod. There were even more than the target and the girl had and he hadn't even thought that pain like this existed. He wasn't even aware of moving but his chair tumbled to the side and he fell to the floor. It was only a few more inches distance between him and the rocks, but it was enough that he could raise a hand in a wordless plea. He knew that he deserved to be punished, punished severely, but this was more than he could endure without asking them to be merciful. American justice can be merciful, he remembered, trying to repeat the thought in his head.
The pain faded slightly and he looked up. They were being merciful--they were putting some of the rocks back in the bag and putting them in a corner in the far end of the room. "Thank you," he whispered, his throat feeling as though it were beating like a heart and each beat hammered exposed nerves.
The general ignored him, addressing the others. "Ladies, gentlemen, if you have no further questions, I suggest that we proceed." Clark watched muzzily as each wrote something on a piece of paper, folded it, and passed it to him. He read each and put it in one of two piles in front of him, one pile with just two slips, the other with the rest.
"Thirteen votes say that he is now an overall liability, two that he is still an overall asset." He got up and Clark watched him fearfully. "I believe the majority decision is wise. While he has brought each of us a fortune, and while some of us have, to a small extent, grown attached to him, he now represents a danger, one which we finally know how to remove." His lips parted and he hesitated, then said, firmly, "Mr. Spencer, Ms. Williams?" A man and a woman rose. "Make it quick. I'll take the cadaver to Zurich for the auction and we'll divide the proceeds along the usual lines."
Clark cringed as the two approached him while the others left, some taking an instant to look back at him with a trace of regret. The thought of death terrified him in a way he never would have expected. And why did the general talk about fortunes and an auction and proceeds? None of them talked about what was best for the country.
Spencer looked uncertainly at Williams. "What do you think, make him swallow it?"
"That'd be the first try." She scooped a piece into her hand. "Get him upright, please." Clark whimpered. Spencer had given him some of his first assignments and often congratulated him when they were done. The man moved behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and braced him up against the wall. When he tried to turn away, Williams said, almost gently, "Don't fight, child. It will just make things harder." With the tiny strength that was left, he clenched his teeth together and as she gripped his face to force his mouth open, tried again to turn. Even with the pain, the bewilderment, the betrayal, he didn't want to die. He didn't want to be a cadaver taken to Zurich and auctioned. Her fingers slipped on his sweat-moistened face and she grunted, impatiently.
"Try bracing him against yourself. I can't get leverage from this angle." Spencer changed his stance and without the wall as support, Clark felt himself flopping like a broken limb. He tried to grab her arm in a last plea but was unable to move even his own hands. She was prying his jaw open and then, using a meteor instead of her fingers, shoved it between his lips. As the rock touched the sensitive gums, he was unable to prevent a scream. Her hand moving almost as fast as his had, she jammed another meteor in his mouth, then as implacably as she had opened his mouth, held it shut.
"Just swallow it, child, it will finish faster," she urged, almost gently. "There. You're going to be good, aren't you?" With one hand, she rubbed his throat, and he fought the instinct to swallow, to let the muscles follow the motion. "You're going to be good, do what you're told like you always have for us, aren't you?" she crooned. Her voice was so soothing, like cool water running over burnt flesh, that part of him wanted to be obedient, to be good, and to do what he was told. He always had, until now, hadn't he? In that instant, her hair seemed to change from blond to red, parted at the side and falling a bit past her chin. Surrendering, he tried to swallow, but now his muscles wouldn't obey him even in that. He met her eyes once more, trying to convey that he had yielded, that he was obeying orders again, but his body was betraying him. She seemed to understand. "There. Just open." He wasn't able to open his mouth more than a tiny bit, but it was enough for her to slip a finger in, lever it further open, and push a rock onto his tongue and to the back of his throat. The pain made him whimper again but he was going to be strong. He was going to be good. She picked up another rock and Clark heard a clamor that he thought was just in his head until he saw them start at the noise. Smoke drifted in from the corridor and Spencer began to cough, followed shortly by Williams.
"Got to...get out of here..." she choked.
"What about him?"
"Leave him. If the greenies don't kill him, whatever this is will," she gasped, a few words at a time. Crouching low, they left the room and Clark, released, felt, with no awareness of having fallen, the tough carpet against his face. The rocks slipped out of his open mouth but now he didn't have to do anything. He could be good and dutiful just by waiting there. That was almost easy.
***
"Mad scientist," Lana laughed, more than a little nervously as Lex, frowning in concentration, lined up the last of the projectiles, as they crouched in nearby shrubbery. She'd taken it in stride when, after watching the man they were pursuing go into what looked like an ordinary five-floor commercial building, he said, as though it were obvious to anyone, that what they needed was to lob in smoke bombs, sulfur, and anything that would break and release flour into the air. It made sense--that would clear the building and cause probably moderate panic, which would let them get in and search. It had been disconcerting when Jonathan interjected that they'd passed a gun shop, and Lex nodded, saying that most of what they'd need they could find there. He'd bought nearly everything on hand, from axes to riot gear to gas masks. She was alarmed as Lex, aided by Jonathan, quickly constructed what looked like a miniature rocket launcher. What scared her, though, was when she asked if the angle wasn't too high and Lex looked at the building, at the launcher again, and lowered it accordingly. Jonathan and Martha helped one another put on the gas masks and other gear, and Lana nodded that they looked quite authentic, then Martha helped her and Lex put gear on, though Lex left the gas mask on the ground, claiming it would obstruct his vision.
Lex checked it over once more and then, looking far more gleeful than Lana was quite ready for, started firing the improvised grenades through windows, following a downward slash from floor to floor. A few broke against the walls, but most crashed right through the windows, and smoke started to billow out.
Jonathan and Martha ran to the doors, and after a moment's gesticulation at somebody who tried to stop them, continued in. Lex continued to fire and they watched for the man they'd followed to come out. If he came out sooner than most, they'd start with the lower floors first, if after most, the higher floors.
He was in one of the last waves. Lex scooped up the mask and they ran for the doors. People made way for them and since there were still people leaving the building, they pounded up the stairs rather than be seen taking the elevator. Reaching the fourth floor, they separated, Lex taking one corridor, Lana the other.
The first rooms seemed innocuous, a doctor's office, an accountant's, and a lawyer's. No hidden rooms, as far as she could tell, nothing suspicious. She had high hopes of one labeled "Importers" where there were dozens of sealed cardboard boxes, but after tearing one open, all she saw were dozens of hard-core pornography magazines. She ran to the next office, which she had to break open with the axe. Since it was a dentist's, she rather enjoyed it. But nothing there, either. The last office on the corridor was labeled "Gold exchange." The door was steel, rather than wood, and the glass looked thick. She swung her axe as hard as she could at the glass, gasping as the blow rebounded, painfully. Another three blows and there was a crack in the glass. Using the axe blade as a lever, she wedged it in the crack, then threw her weight against the handle. Enough of the glass came out that she could carefully enter. The first door on the inside that she tried was a closet. She'd gotten the right one, Clark's jacket was hanging neatly inside.
"LEX!!!!!!!" she shouted, hoping it would be faster than using the phone. She opened the steel door but the figure pounding towards her wasn't Lex or one of the Kents. Okay, she could manage this one. Trying to hit just hard enough, she brought the blunt end of the axe handle down on his head. It worked. She decided she was becoming downright dangerous, with a good deal of pride.
She bellowed for Lex again, before giving up and dialing. "Found the place. Last doors. I'm going in to look for him. Call the Kents."
The office was a maze, she decided, angrily. Hearing motion behind her, she turned, raising her axe again. "I'm on your side," Lex said, mock-reproachfully. "Check this side," she ordered, turning the other way. She quickly scanned each room for either Clark or another doorway. She'd never have noticed a doorway in a drably carpeted storeroom if there hadn't been a crack showing, the door having been closed in too much haste, she guessed.
Clark was lying, face down, against one of the walls, so motionless she was afraid that he was dead. There were green rocks scattered near him, and she gathered them up, tossing them into the outer office. She carefully lifted his head and saw that he was still breathing. There were more rocks underneath him and she threw those as far away as she could as well. His eyes opened and after several anxious moments, seemed to focus on her.
"He's in here!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, and heard the pounding of approaching runners. Martha entered first, followed shortly by Jonathan. Lex stuck his head in. "He's all right?"
"Going to be," Martha said, as she crouched next to Clark, who seemed to be regaining strength.
"I'll get the files here." He disappeared again and Martha and Lana helped Clark to stand. Jonathan steadied him and supported him out of the room. Lex was smashing open cabinets and finding apparently very little, judging from the frustrated way he plunged at the next.
"We don't need the damn files," Jonathan shouted.
"Like hell we don't! You think he's going to know about himself?"
"He's safe and that's the only thing that matters."
Lex looked at him almost coldly. "That's what matters most to you." At the sound of sirens, the men dropped their glares and after one angry grimace, Lex picked up a laptop, seemingly on general principles more than a belief that it would have the answers, tucked it under one arm, and followed them out.
Clark seemed to regain his strength the moment they were outside the office and away from the meteors. He looked bewildered, but took Martha's offered hand with a child-like trust that made Lana's throat tighten.
They made their way out of the building without being stopped and ran to the parked cars. Martha helped Clark into the back seat of one, telling him to lie down and rest.
"There's a professor at Cal Tech I'd trust with him. We can fly him right there."
Jonathan fixed Lex with another glare and Lana, seeing the anger between them as if it were rising in palpable waves, said, irritably, "Shouldn't we get out of here first?"
"She's right," Martha said quickly. "Not back to the airport."
"There's a penthouse in DC. Shouldn't be more than two hours." Lex got into the car and waited for Lana to follow him. Jonathan tensely nodded and he and Martha got into the other, Jonathan getting into the back, gathering Clark's head onto his lap as Lana watched.
