Author's Note: A tip of the hat and a bit of explanation about the title of this chapter. Thanks go to Doug, who brought the word "remanence" into the discussion of alternate timelines. I had to go look it up, but I liked the word a lot once I did. For those of you who might have to go look it up, too, the dictionary informed me that it was a term from physics, referring to "the magnetic induction that remains in a material after removal of the magnetizing field," or, more generally, something "remaining, residual" after the effect that caused it has been taken away.

Chapter 9: Remanence

Lex didn't notice Kal-El leave, so engrossed he was in his examination of the device. Some things were easy to determine, such as the means of communication — text or a recorded vocal message, clearly, and apparently a live call as well. But if Dolman had some sort of "fail-safe," a way to cancel out a communication, Lex had yet to find it.

After a while, frustration began to draw him out of his trance of concentration. He looked up from the screen to see that he was alone. Needing to clear his mind anyway, he got up to see where Kal-El had gone — and, relating to that, to assure that his mother and wife were not troubled.

No one could be seen from the kitchen door, but when he came out front, he saw an extraordinary sight: Kal-El repairing a fence, under Martha's watchful eye. They were near the windmill; at the gate stood Lois. He could not see her face, but her posture was relaxed, arms folded as she watched the work, unaware, as Martha and Kal-El also seemed to be, of Lex's presence on the porch.

In his mind's eye, Lex could see the 20-year-old girl who had stood on that spot, waving him off with mock impatience when he paused at the door to look at her one more time before going inside. That had been at the end of the day they'd met — a day that had been quite the opposite of the confusion and distress that marked this one. That day had been the perfect day.

His mother had pushed him to come home to visit that weekend. Since he had left for college seven years before, his trips to Smallville had been as infrequent as he could get away with without alienating Martha too much. He loved life in the city, and did not miss the stiflingly dull routine of the farm and Smallville. But to get her son home this time, Martha had seized upon the excuse of the wedding of one of the older Ross brothers. Lex had easily guessed his mother's ulterior motive — quality father-son time.

He gave in and, amazingly, Martha's plan worked: Lex spent a remarkably conflict-free Saturday morning with Jonathan, helping around the farm. Thus it was with a general mood of good will that they headed off to the wedding in late afternoon.

He was not well-acquainted with any of the Ross brothers, let alone the youngest, Pete, then a senior in high school. But Pete's girlfriend, Chloe Sullivan, whom Lex knew even less, drew him into conversation while in line for drinks at the reception, and introduced him to her cousin, Lois Lane. "She was in town visiting anyway," Chloe said. "So I dragged her here to keep me company."

"Oh, thanks a lot," Pete said.

"Please, you know your family's going to be hogging all your time." As if on cue, an aunt arrived to snatch Pete away for photographs. "Ha!" said Chloe, triumphant, earning an amiable "Yeah, yeah" from Pete as he left them. To Lex and Lois, Chloe said, "I mean, what was I supposed to do, hang out with my dad all night?"

"And whose company are you keeping?" Lois asked as Lex carefully picked up three drinks from the bar.

"Actually, the plan was to hang out with my parents all night."

"Well, if you want a break," she told him, "come over and join us."

"I may just do that." His parents had had him for the day and he knew Martha at least wouldn't be able to resist setting him free from their company in a romantic pursuit. But she didn't even need to plead on his behalf; in little time, Jonathan good-naturedly sent Lex on his way to find the girls again.

And so, if it had been Lois's intention — as Lex wondered now — to stick close to her subject, Lex had made it easy. He eschewed the company of former classmates closer to his age — since he had graduated from high school early, he had felt he had long left them behind anyway — to spend the evening with the younger set. For that night, the four were inseparable, excepting Pete's familial duties. They chattered over dinner and joined in every silly wedding reception group dance. Lois insisted that their song ought to be "Electric Slide" — "It was the first time we danced together," she'd laugh. It should have been the sappy song that played when he cajoled her into a slow dance as the evening waned, but neither of them could remember later what it was.

"Hey," she had reminded him, "you know I'm dating someone else."

Yes, Chloe had mentioned it, demanding to know when she'd get to meet the guy.

"It's only a dance," Lex told Lois.

He was utterly smitten with this bright, forceful, sardonic girl. They were both going back to Metropolis the next day, and in the parking lot after the reception ended, he tried a different tactic. "Look, even if you are seeing someone, I wouldn't mind getting together — just as friends."

She considered it, then said, "Okay. It's a deal." She fished a small notebook from her purse, wrote her phone number, then took his.

Chloe drove Lex home — his parents had left the reception hours earlier. Lois saw him to the gate, looking about the dark landscape curiously. "Wow. You grew up in this place?"

"Straight off the farm."

"I don't see it."

"I'm good at acting the part of the cosmopolitan."

She looked at him appraisingly, and said, "See ya, Smallville." It was the first time she called him that.

He came inside quietly, wondering that he could feel so euphoric when he had been rejected by this girl. In this mood, it almost felt like her mere friendship could be enough — for the time being.

"I was wondering if you would ever call it a night." Jonathan was still awake, sitting at the dining table, papers spread in front of him. At least he sounded amused, not annoyed as if they were replaying one of Lex's teenage late nights.

Lex thought of his mother's concern over Jonathan's health, and asked, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep. So I decided to work on some things," he said, pushing the documents into a pile before walking over to meet his son in the kitchen. "So, how was the rest of the reception?" he asked with a playful raise of his eyebrows.

"She has a boyfriend," Lex said cheerfully. "But I still got a promise to meet up in Metropolis some time — as friends."

Jonathan was pulling two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. He offered one to his son and said, "Let's drink to that, then."

They sat at the kitchen's counter island for an hour before turning in, the conversation light and comfortable.

Lex still sometimes thought that was the happiest day of his life.

When he left the next day, it was the last time he saw his father alive. His and Lois's Metropolis friendship was barely off the ground when he asked her to come to Smallville with him for Jonathan's funeral. She came. With little involvement with the Kent family herself at this stage, she could be strong. He was grateful.

It was good that Lex and Jonathan had had that last amicable day together, Lois told him. Lex knew he should see it that way, but instead felt cheated. That day had shown they could get it right, and he had been robbed of a chance to try it again, to make it work. Lois didn't push it, didn't insist that he look on the bright side or just be grateful for what he had rather than what he had missed. But she also did not allow extended wallowing. Her friendship was good for him that way.

That made it all the more confounding when the mysterious boyfriend exited the picture. "It ended badly," was all she told him. "And I'm swearing off relationships for a while." Something about it had infuriated her, and she would not talk about it, and she would not let it go.

She would go out occasionally, but never more than one or two dates, and never with Lex, who found himself resenting the boyfriend more during this period than when Lois had been dating him. Eventually Lex called her on it, accusing her of hanging on to a relationship with someone she had never even bothered to introduce to her family or friends — to Lex's knowledge, only Chloe had ever met the boyfriend, and she had been uncharacteristically close-mouthed about it.

"You're one to talk," Lois threw back at Lex when he confronted her. "Mooning after me for two years now."

It was their first fight. She left angry, and the next day she called and asked him on a date.

It had indeed taken two years, but finally they were more than just friends. Lex got off the phone and remembered the day of the wedding. He raised a glass to his father and said, "Let's drink to that."

That had been their story; that was how it had happened. Now, as of today he realized his story had been incomplete. It was missing the knowledge that Lois's presence at the wedding had not been coincidental, but intentional — Chloe colluding in her cousin's investigation. Most disturbingly, it was missing Kal-El.

Lois turned and smiled at Lex as he crossed the yard to meet her at the gate. "He offered to help, and Martha's taking full advantage," she said. "What about you — any progress?"

"Only in that I know more of what won't work. I needed a break." After a pause, he said in what he hoped was a neutral tone, "He really hasn't gotten over you, you know."

"Oh God, what did he say to you?" she asked wearily.

"Just that. More or less. It's been a lot to take in today, but I have to admit, it's hard for me to accept that when we first met, you were pretending to be a friend just to help along your investigation, and then ... him."

He could hear his voice; he sounded petulant, and probably deserved the glare that came his way. "The only thing I pretended was that Chloe brought me along that day just to keep her company," Lois said. "But when I met you, I actually liked you. I never pretended to be your friend. I already said I'm sorry for not telling you about my work for Lionel. I thought it was in your best interest. And as for Kal, I can't believe that after fifteen years of marriage, you could doubt me over something that ended long ago. I can't help what he feels. All I can say is that I love you, and hope you believe me."

It would have to do for today.

"I do believe you," he said, and ventured a chastened smile. "I'm sorry — it's been a strange day."

"Tell me about it, Smallville. The strangest things seem to happen in your hometown."

"You know, in that other life, it's possible that I've never even been to Smallville."

"Then I guess I'll meet up with you in Metropolis." She regarded him and added, deadpan, "Except, if you've never been here, I'll have to remember to look for the guy with hair."

He affected a pained grimace that made her laugh and then kiss him across the picket fence.

"Come on," she said. "I'm going to go inside and get some water for the laborers, and you can talk out your computer problems at me. Will that help?"

"I think, definitely."

She gave a last look over by the windmill, and when Martha noticed them, Lois called out, "Going inside for a minute!" Martha nodded, and Lois said to Lex, "They'll be fine. I think Kal's actually having fun."

"And yet I doubt this is how he was planning on spending his afternoon when he woke up this morning. Does he sleep?" Lex asked as an afterthought. Lois only shrugged.

They had reached the kitchen, and Lex settled down in front of the device again. But before he began again, he reflected, "I'm glad you knew him as someone different than who he is now. If you were once friends, maybe you can understand why I'm doing this. These memories I have tell me there is something in him worth saving."

Lois did not immediately answer as she opened cupboards, looking for water glasses. When she found them, she paused and said heavily, "I had to stop believing it myself years ago."

"Believing that he's worth it?"

"Believing that saving him is possible. I think your Clark Kent is more real to you than the boy I knew as Kal is to me. But I'm on board with this. Not for Kal, let alone for Clark. But there are others who are worth saving, too." She returned to the business of filling the glasses, and handed one to Lex first, saying, "So how do we solve this problem? Tell me what you know."

"We know ... at 4:04 p.m. yesterday, Clark recorded his message, and at 9:13 p.m., Dolman created his. So between those two times, the device got out of Clark's hands."

"Since Dolman knew the effects of Kryptonite on Clark, it's not hard to imagine how."

"Then the message was sent after midnight, presumably by Dolman. But he didn't realize that Clark's message was already stored, queued ahead of his, so Clark's got sent first."

"And worked its magic."

"Except on this ..." Lex indicated the device. Something was taking shape in his thoughts, if he could hold on to it, form it ... "Both of those messages – even the invention of this very thing – they're not part of our past, but they're part of its past. It doesn't belong in this timeline any more than Clark Kent does. But here it is, holding records of events that never happened. Dolman said it would remain in place, where it was last used; he must have designed it that way, to hold on to that other time."

"So to this machine, that time still exists in a way."

"And it has to give us a path to get back there ..."

Something Dolman had said, Lex now repeated to himself: "Get back to before the fracture, and reroute the signal from there." For the first time, that made sense. Now he knew what to look for.

Lois was silent, unmoving, offering no distraction as Lex hunted through the likely files until ...

"Found it," he breathed. Lois straightened, expectant and tense, and he continued, "I have to work out the exact steps, but I know what we need to –"

"Finished!" Kal-El stood at the kitchen door, wiping his shoes, brushing dust off his expensive black clothing before entering, followed by a bemused Martha. Kal-El was beaming — a wide grin like sunshine. It startled Lex, but it was infectious.

"I'm finished, too," he said. "I know how we can do this."

"You figured out what Dolman meant to do?" Kal asked, suddenly serious again.

"Yes. The way it works ..." He searched for the words. "Just before Lillian received that message, that moment had one possible future. Clark's message created a second one. This device can allow us to get our own message into the original future – the one with Clark. But you have to make a sequence of calls: first, to just before the new timeline was created, before what Dolman called the 'fracture.' Then, using the same design that causes the device's own staying power when the time changes, the second call is diverted into, well, the timeline that this machine is from — not ours. So, using the code that Dolman had well-buried in here, we call Clark Kent just before 4:04 p.m. yesterday, and tell him to stop what he's planning to do, and destroy the device."

Lois shook her head, a little incredulously, a little like she was trying to fit the pieces in place. Kal-El was frowning. "All right," he said, "but what's Clark Kent's phone number? Obviously it won't be the same as mine. There was no number of origin shown in the message file. I checked."

"And this is why." Lex snapped open a side panel, pulling out a thin communicator, connected by a cord within the device. "I found this. It provides its own 'phone' for the user. You didn't get very far examining this thing, did you?"

"I was a little thrown by hearing my own voice on it. I didn't want to dissect it just then and risk ruining it."

And you had some kidnappings to arrange, Lex thought, but bit his tongue. Not the time.

In any case, Lois interrupted the spat. "It doesn't matter," she said. "I know the number that can reach Clark Kent. The man who interrupted him at the end of his message to Lillian? I'd know that voice anywhere, any time. That was Perry White. Clark is at the Daily Planet. And I'm betting that if the Daily Planet is still in operation there, Perry's direct line is the same as it was here for years — and I still know it by heart. Call Perry, and ask for Clark."

"Perfect. Give me the number, and I can get the sequence of calls set up in no time, and we're on our way. Unless ... Mom?" Martha had been watching him intently. Lex said to the other two, "Can we have a moment alone?"

"Sure." Lois yanked lightly at Kal-El's sleeve, and they walked outside.

Lex began: "I know I'm asking you to take on a lot —"

"— and lose a lot."

He tried a small, crooked grin. "Think of how great it will be to have a super-powered farmhand around here."

"Lex," she chided, but with a touch of humor. She studied him for a moment, then said, "Do what you have to do."

"Thank you."

"Do you need me to make this call?"

Lex hadn't considered that option. Would Clark Kent listen to his mother? "To be honest, all along I've been imagining I would be the one to talk to him."

"Actually, that may be best," she granted. "If you were the one he thought he was helping, you would be the one to talk him out of it."

"I want you to wait here — please — and get ready to leave. If this doesn't work, Lois and I will come back here, and we are getting out of Kansas, together."

"She said you'd insist on that."

"I will."

"We'll see," she said, but Lex thought he heard concession in her voice. Then she asked, "And if it does work?"

"Then ... thank you. For this life. For being such a good mother. And thanks to Dad, too. I know we had our differences, but ..."

"You know he loved you, too."

"I know." Maybe one perfect day had been enough.

He had one final request for her help: He named a meeting place for her to wait, prepared, for his and Lois's arrival, wait for an emergency, wait for the world to change.

"I hope that Lillian is good to you," she said at last.

Without knowing why, he answered with an unconscious and profound assurance: "She was."

Martha looked as though she were trying to imprint his face in her memory.

"Mom," he said with a regretful smile, "I have to go save the world."

And she let him go.