New Girl in Town

By SSG Michael B. Jackson

Disclaimer: I don't own a damned thing to do with Smallville, to include any of the DC Comics characters portrayed. Hell, most of them have been around since before my parents were born, so how could I? Anyway, there's no money in this for me; I only want to have a little fun and maybe entertain a few other people as well, so enjoy and please don't sue me. I'm a poor soldier with four kids, so you wouldn't get much anyway!

"Say what!" Jonathan exclaimed, taking the needle-shaped projectile hastily from Clark's hand. Then, examining it closely himself, he said, "Are you sure?"

Shaking his head, Clark said, "Pretty much so. I mean, there can't be much in there; I barely felt anything. But nothing except kryptonite has ever given me the sensation I just got handling that thing."

"Huh!" Jonathan said, still peering at the small sliver of metal in his hand. "That officially raises things from bad to worse."

There was a moment's silence following this proclamation, which was eventually broken by a somewhat strained voice from the floor. "Uh, I hate to sound like a dummy," Talia said weakly, wiping at the tears she'd been unable to hold back during Clark's brief but agonizing amateur surgery while Martha finished dressing the wound on her chest. "But what the heck is kryptonite? Isn't that, like, the brand name of a lock or something?"

"It's that too," Clark said thoughtfully, "But it's also what we've started calling the meteor rocks around Smallville. After we found out where they came from, that is."

"Meteor rocks?" Talia said quizzically.

Shaking his head slowly, Clark said, "I guess we haven't really gotten around to discussing any local history, have we?"

Talia shook her head by way of answer, and Clark continued with, "Well, you did notice the sign on the way into town, didn't you?"

Talia nodded, and said, "The 'Meteor Capitol' thing?" Then, comprehension dawning on her face, she said, "Oh, I get it now! Yeah, I asked your mom what the heck the sign meant, and she told me about the meteor shower. She said it happened back in what, eighty-nine?"

"Yeah," Clark said, "And this place has been lousy with those meteor rocks ever since. Most of them have a weird, almost phosphorescent green glow to them, so you can't mistake them for much of anything else."

"Okay," Talia said, "I get it. But why 'kryptonite'?"

For the second time that night, a significant look passed between Clark and his parents, and, seeing their reluctant approval, he continued with, "Because the meteor swarm that hit Smallville used to be part of a planet called Krypton. 'Used to be' as in it blew up, and those meteors are what's left of it."

Cocking her head questioningly, Talia said, "Uh, I hate to say this, Clark, but you know all of this how?"

"Well," Clark said slowly, "Actually I found most of this out through a guy by the name of Dr. Swann. How he found out is a long story, but… the short version is that the meteors and I are connected. Closely connected, in fact."

"Wait a minute," Talia said a bit skeptically. "Are you trying to tell me that you're from another planet, Clark? From this 'Krypton' place?"

Clark shrugged and said, "I know how that sounds, but is it really any crazier than being from another universe?"

"Touché," Talia said quietly, and then, "You're right. And, come to think of it, I guess there were a few supers back home who claimed to be aliens. No one I ever met, mind you, and I'm not too sure how, uh, mentally stable some of those guys were, but… wow. So you're the real deal, huh? A real, live alien…"

"I hope this doesn't weird you out too much," Clark said somewhat sheepishly and then added, "Does it?"

"Clark," Talia said, a smile playing on her lips, "Weirdness has been a part of my life for just about as long as I can remember. Wherever you're from, you are, without a doubt, one of the nicest guys I've ever met, and that's the only important thing as far as I'm concerned." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Actually, I think it's kind of cool."

Clark shook his head slowly and said, "Only if you're not the one in my shoes." Then, seeing Talia's questioning look, he added with a sigh, "There's a lot of baggage that seems to go with being the 'last son of Krypton'."

"Baggage?" Talia said. "What kind of baggage?"

"Well, for starters," Clark said, "There's the meteor rocks. That green glowing stuff, the kryptonite, is radioactive. Normally, it doesn't really affect human beings much, though there've been some, uh, notable exceptions around here. But it definitely does affect me."

"Affect you how?" Talia said. "Does it make you sick or something?"

Clark nodded and said, "Big time. It's kind of like an allergic reaction, but a lot worse. Basically, the stuff's poison to me; prolonged exposure would kill me."

Talia's eyes widened just a bit and she said, "Wow. And you say this town is lousy with that stuff?"

Clark nodded again and said, "Yup. Keeps life here interesting to say the least."

Talia shook her head slowly and said, "Okay, I see what you mean by baggage." Then, frowning, she said, "So who, besides you and your folks, knows about all this? About the kryptonite especially."

"Well," he said, "There's Pete Ross. He's one of my oldest friends, and I came clean with him a couple of years ago. He knows everything, but he doesn't live around here anymore. He moved to Wichita with his mom last year." He paused for a moment, considering, and then said, "Dr. Swann knew, but… well, he's dead now. I guess his assistant, Dr. Crosby, knew too, but apparently she hasn't been seen for a while, and nobody's sure where she is. Other than that… Lex's dad, Lionel, knew for a little while, but, unless he's just faking, which is always possible, he doesn't remember anymore. And then there's Lex himself; kind of the same story, actually, but he never really knew what was going on. All he knew was that I had powers of some kind, and after Lionel had electro-shock therapy done on him… well, let's just say he forgot a lot of things after that. And the last person I can think of is a kid named Bart Allen. He has powers too, and he knows about mine and the kryptonite, but he doesn't know anything about Krypton. He, uh, took off before we ever got that far."

"Jeez," Talia said a bit incredulously. "That sounds a little… complicated. Not to mention unlucky for most of those people. So basically, this Ross guy and the Allen kid are the only people outside of this house who know everything and, uh, are still in full possession of all their faculties?"

"As far as we know," Clark replied.

"So it's not very likely, then, that that round was laced with kryptonite just for your benefit?"

Frowning slightly, Clark said, "It doesn't seem like it. But why else would these guys be using kryptonite?"

"Hmm," Talia said thoughtfully. "Does it have any other properties? Besides killing you, that is?"

"A whole bunch, actually," Clark said. "In fact, if it has to do with weirdness, kryptonite can probably do it. I've seen it do everything from turn normal people into mutants to route a phone call into the past. So I suppose it's entirely feasible for somebody to use it for something that had nothing to do with me."

Nodding slowly, Talia said, "Makes sense." Then, after a short pause, "Do you know anybody who might be able to do a metallurgical analysis on that spike? Discretely, that is? Because we might just find out a whole lot that way."

Clark was silent for a moment, considering, and then said, "Well, it's just possible that Chloe knows somebody who could. God only knows how, but she seems to have built up connections around here that would be the envy of most big-time reporters. And while we're at it, I think she should see the bug too; she's the one who turned me on to the idea that the accident wasn't really an accident in the first place."

Finally breaking the silence he'd maintained throughout the conversation so far, Jonathan said, "Are you sure that's a good idea, Son? We already know these people are dangerous now; do you really want to get Chloe involved?"

Clark sighed and said, "Dad, you know Chloe. She already knows something's going on, so even if I try to brush her off, she'll keep digging until she's involved anyway. At least this way hopefully she'll stay close enough that I can protect her if anything else does happen. And besides, we really do need her help; I wouldn't know where else to start with this."

From where she knelt, cleaning up the various messes left by Clark's amateur doctoring, Martha said, "If you really think there's no other way, Clark. But be careful. From what you said, I doubt that these people, whoever they are, are just going to give up and go away." Then, frowning, she added, "For that matter, we don't even know what it is they want. Why in the world would a couple of business-suited spooks want to cause a car accident for a farmer's wife out in a little nowhere town in the first place?"

Before anyone else could answer, Jonathan cut in with, "Well, I'm pretty sure that no one here can answer that question tonight, and I'm just as sure that everybody here could use some rest by now. It's been an awfully long day to say the least."

Clark nodded and said, "I guess you're right, Dad. We're not going to get anything else done until morning." Then, heading for the door, he added, "But there's no way I'm gonna leave that bug out in the truck overnight. That'd just be an open invitation for something to happen."

No one offered any replies to this, and, as Clark exited, everyone else began to prepare for bed. Jonathan moved to help Talia to her feet, but, with a gratefully muttered, "Thanks, Mr. Kent, but I'm okay," she waved off his assistance and stood, a bit shakily, on her own. She moved no further than the couch, however, and, lying down said, "I think Clark can have his room back for the night; I don't feel quite up to those stairs just yet."

Both Jonathan and Martha smiled at this, but, before either of them could say anything, Talia had already closed her eyes and, apparently, drifted off to sleep. A moment later, Clark came back in, the screen door banging shut behind him. Both Jonathan and Martha turned quickly in his direction, fingers going to their lips in a gesture for silence. Looking past them, he saw the reason for this and, drone in hand, mouthed a quick "Goodnight" to his parents before tip-toeing with exaggerated care up the stairs. Then, left to their own devices, the elder Kents retired for the evening as well.

On the other side of town, back at a particular unremarkable motel room, another hasty conference was taking place. Three business-suited individuals sat, one on the queen-sized bed and the other two on chairs, speaking quickly but quietly with one another.

"Alright," the black-suited man said, "I've got your initial SITREP; now what's the assessment?"

"Girl's even tougher than we thought," the blue-clad woman replied. "I put a round right through one of her lungs, and she never even lost consciousness. Knocked her down at least, though."

Sitting in a chair near the black-clad man, the gray-suited man nodded and said, "I can verify that. And then there's the mystery target…"

"Go on," the black-suited man said.

"First off, he moved too fast to even see when he hit me. One second I was getting ready to draw down on the girl, and the next something smacked me in the chest like a battering ram. Picked me clean up off the ground and knocked me rolling. If I hadn't been wearing the impact armor, I'm sure I would've been out cold."

"And at the same time," the blue-suited woman added, "the trigger well of my weapon just flared up white-hot. Blistered the hell out of my trigger finger, and caused me to drop the weapon. If it hadn't been tethered to the belt-packs by the power cable, I would've probably lost it altogether."

"Hmm," the black-clad man said thoughtfully. "So we're looking at superhuman speed and strength, plus some sort of heat induction at a distance of over four hundred meters." After a brief pause, the black-suited man looked to the gray-clad man and said, "And you said 'he'? How do you know that if you never saw the new target?"

"I caught just a glimpse of him," the gray-suited man said slowly. "When I got back to my feet and took off, I saw him catch the girl before she hit the ground. It was definitely a male, dark hair and large frame. Couldn't tell much else since all I could see was his back, but…"

"Dark hair and large frame," the black-clad man mused. "That's not a bad description of the Kent kid, now is it?"

The gray-clad man nodded and said, "Exactly what I was thinking." Then, a slight smile curving his lips, he said, "He's on our list of possible high value targets, too."

The blue-clad woman nodded as well and said, "Right up toward the top, if I remember right."

"Right at the top," the black-clad man said with slight emphasis. "In fact, if the girl hadn't popped up right after we got on-site, he'd have been our first priority. According to all the public records checks and all the HUMINT gathered, Clark Kent is the eye at the center of the storm here in Smallville. All of the strangeness in this little town seems to revolve around him, but somehow he's never quite touched by it. Strikes you as kind of odd, now doesn't it?"

Both of the others nodded slowly at this, and then the blue-clad woman said, "So! That being the case, what's the game plan now, chief? Are we going after the drone, or what?"

The black-suited man shook his head, and said, "Not right away. There's nothing inside the thing that can directly compromise us, so let's back off and see what they do for a while. And if we don't like wherever things are going, well… we can always burn that bridge when we come to it, now can't we?"

The next morning, being a Saturday, started out a little slower at the Kent house. There were still chores to be done, of course, so everyone was up at a reasonable hour, but all three Kents were careful not to wake their young guest too early. After the night she'd had, they figured she could use some extra rest, and so it was a good forty-five minutes after everyone else had arisen before the smell of breakfast finally woke her.

She sat up a bit blearily, blinked for a moment trying to remember exactly where she was, and then, recalling the past two nights, gave a little sigh. Finally, looking down at herself, clad only in bra, panties, and bandages as she'd been after the previous evening's little bit of surgery, she wrapped the blanket someone had thoughtfully draped over her around herself toga-style and headed for the kitchen.

"Morning," she said quietly as three sets of eyes turned to her from the kitchen table.

"Morning yourself, young lady," Jonathan said from where he sat. "How're you feeling?"

"Better," Talia said. "I'm gonna go clean up and put on some clothes if it's okay, and I'll check under these dressings too. I'm pretty sure everything will be healed up enough to get rid of them by now."

Her eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, Martha said, "Are you sure, Talia? I mean, only a few hours ago, you had a gaping hole in your chest, and we didn't even stitch it up! Do you really think it's healed that fast?"

Talia shrugged and said, "Should be. I haven't had any injury, no matter how severe, take longer than a few days to heal up since I was eight. Of course, I don't exactly bruise easily, so I don't get a chance to put that to the test very often."

"Well," Clark said thoughtfully, "I guess we'll find out in a few minutes. And don't rush in the shower; we'll keep something hot for you."

Thirty minutes later, Talia was back, dressed now in a knee-length jeans skirt, tennis shoes and a white tank top. Jonathan and Clark had already headed for the barn, but Martha was still there, putting leftovers away and cleaning up.

"Help yourself," she said, pointing to a full plate left on the stove. "There's OJ and milk in the fridge if you want."

Talia nodded gratefully and said, "OJ sounds great, Mrs. Kent. Not only am I starving, but my throat feels like a dry riverbed in the Sahara."

Martha gave a small laugh at this, and, as Talia took her plate and a glass of orange juice back to the table said, "I can imagine. And how's everything else?"

"Okay," Talia said after a long draught of juice. "I got rid of the bandages in the bathroom, and all that's left is this little scar." As she said this, she moved her shirt aside slightly, revealing a round, somewhat livid scar about the size of a nickel. "It should fade out in a day or two," she added. "Scars just don't stick with me."

Shaking her head slightly, Martha said, "Considering all that's happened to you over the last couple of days, that's an awfully good thing."

Talia nodded and said, "Can't argue with that. And speaking of getting hurt; you are planning to go get checked out by a doctor today, aren't you?"

Martha nodded and said, "Definitely. I really think I'm okay, but I'm stiff all over this morning, and I had a headache right at the base of my skull so bad last night that I thought I'd never get to sleep."

Frowning in concern, Talia said, "The sooner you get looked at the better then, Mrs. Kent. You're a super person, but not super the same way Clark and I are." Then, looking down, she added in a quiet, subdued tone, "Sometimes it scares me, Mrs. Kent. How fragile most people are. In fact, sometimes I'm almost afraid to touch people for fear of… breaking them." She was silent for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, and then said, "If I'm not very physical, it's not because I don't like you, Mrs. Kent. It's because I'm a little scared of accidentally hurting you. Can you understand that?"

Compassion written large on her face, Martha put a hand on Talia's arm and said, "Talia, I'd be lying if I said I could even begin to imagine how… different things must be for people like you and Clark. But Jonathan and I have been here for him almost his entire life. And for as long as you're under our roof, we're here for you too."

Putting her fork down, Talia gingerly laid a hand over Martha's and, a single quick tear making it's way down her cheek said, "I guess I was right the first time then, Mrs. Kent. You really are a super person."

After finishing her breakfast, Talia had intended to head for the barn and help out wherever she could, but just as she was putting her plate in the sink, Clark and Jonathan came back in the door.

"Done already?" She said. "I thought the chores never ended on a place like this."

"They don't," Jonathan said wryly. "But you've got to leave off somewhere, and we're caught up for now." Then, looking to Martha, he said, "You ready to head in and get checked out?"

Martha nodded and said, "Whenever you are. And we'll need to stop by the sheriff's office to see when we can get a copy of the accident report too. You can bet the insurance company's going to want it as soon as they can get it."

Jonathan sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm sure of that. Not that it's going to help much. Even with full coverage, we'll never get back what the car was worth. Gonna make replacing it a real pain."

Everyone was silent for a few moments after this somewhat gloomy pronouncement, and then Martha said, "Well, we might as well go and get things over with, then, Jonathan." Then, looking to Clark she said, "You two staying here?"

Clark nodded and said, "For now, anyway. I called Chloe earlier, and, as thrilled as she was to be woken up on a Saturday, she said she'd come by later. If we need to go anywhere, we'll catch a ride with her."

"Alright," Jonathan said, turning for the door. "But remember what we talked about last night. Whatever you end up doing, be careful."

"We will, Dad," Clark earnestly. "Don't worry."

A few minutes later, after Jonathan and Martha had departed, Clark and Talia stood out in the barn in front of a workbench, the drone laid out before them. Clark was staring at it curiously, as he had been for some time, and Talia said, "If you stare at that thing any harder, Clark, you're gonna wear a hole in it. What're you trying to do; look right through it?"

"Actually, yes," Clark said matter-of-factly. "But I'm not having any more luck than I did last night. I can see through the outer carapace, or whatever, but it looks like most of the interior has some kind of lead foil around it."

Talia raised and eyebrow and said, "You can see through things, Clark?"

"Yeah, kind of like an x-ray," he replied. "That a little too weird for you?"

A small smile playing on her lips, Talia said, "More like nostalgic, actually. My mom does something similar. She's got all these weird energy-manipulating powers, and one of the minor ones is being able to see all up and down the electromagnetic spectrum. It lets her see through solid objects under the right conditions, but I don't think it's quite the same as what you're talking about."

Clark shook his head slowly and said, "I keep forgetting that you grew up in a house full of supers. Did that make things easier for you after your powers showed up?"

Talia sighed and said, "Yes and no. Yes in that I didn't have to worry about my own parents treating me like I was a freak all of a sudden. And no in that, once I found out just who and what my parents had been, I suddenly had a lot to live up to. Can you imagine what it's like growing up knowing that your parents used to save the world for a living? Talk about your difficult role models!"

Clark gave a short laugh and then said, "So what're your folks like, Talia? And what can they do? Super-wise, that is."

"Actually," she said slowly, "In a lot of ways, they're kind of like your folks. They're a few years younger than your mom and dad, I think, but they're really cool. They have the same… moral fiber, I guess you'd call it, that your folks have. And they're both patient and understanding like your mom and dad too. Not that they're perfect, of course; nobody is." Then, after a slight pause, "And super-wise… well, I already told you a little about Mom. If it has anything to do with heat, light, radiation, and a few other kinds of energy, she can either produce it or control it. In fact, she can do so many different things, I don't think even she's ever figured all of them out. And Dad… well, I guess I pretty much take after Dad. We basically have the same powers; his are just a lot stronger than mine. His talents run toward bouncing artillery rounds off his chest, tossing small buildings around, and punching bad guys through reinforced concrete walls. That kind of stuff. Oh, and flying; he can leave me in the dust when it comes to flying."

She was silent for a moment more, and then, a sentimental smile and a far away look in her eyes she said, "He taught me to fly. I can still remember that, when I was eight, nine years old; it was like other kids learning to ride a bike! He'd take me out and hold my hand while we flew, at least until I learned how not to fall out of the sky or smack into a tree. After that, we'd just fly together for hours sometimes, farther and farther as I got faster." Looking down, she added in a bare whisper, "God, I miss that."

Putting a hand on Talia's shoulder, Clark said sympathetically, "It sounds like you and your Dad were really close."

She nodded, suddenly holding back tears, and said, "Yeah. And now I'll probably never see him again." Then, her expression hardening as she willed her emotions back under control, she said, "But who the hell am I to feel sorry for myself? You told me last night that your whole planet blew up, with your parents on it, I assume. At least I know mine are still alive and well."

Before Clark could think of a reply to this, they both heard a car roll up outside and a door open and shut. Heading outside, they saw a familiar red Volkswagen, and, heading for the house, Chloe. "Hey!" Clark yelled. "We're over here!"

Turning, Chloe changed course for the barn and said, "Hey yourself! So what's this 'thing' that was so super-secret you wouldn't even mention it directly over the phone?"

"Come on in and have a look," Clark replied, turning back toward the barn's interior.

Chloe followed Clark and Talia back to the workbench, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the drone. Looking to Clark, she said, "Okay, I give. What the heck is that thing, and where did you find it?"

"We're not exactly sure what it is," Clark said slowly, "But where we found it says a lot about what it was probably used for."

"The accident scene?" Chloe asked, her eyebrows going up in surprise.

Talia nodded, and then said quietly, "Over in the brush a couple dozen yards from the car. And that was far from the most exciting thing we found out there last night."

In answer to Chloe's questioning look, Clark said, "We decided to stick around and see if anybody else was interested in this thing. A couple hours later, some spook in a gray suit turned up. He claimed to be from the EPA, of all things, and said this thing was an experimental sampling drone of some kind. When Talia, uh, pressed him on that, some other spook took a shot at her from a sniper perch and then both of them took off."

"Oh, my God," Chloe said, eyes wide. Then, looking to Talia she said, "Are you okay?"

Smiling ruefully, Talia said, "A little shaken up, I guess. But luckily, either the other guy was a crappy shot or I moved at just the right time. Either way, I'm still here, no thanks to them."

"Wow," Chloe said, eyes unfocussed as she digested this. Then, frowning suddenly, she said, "Wait a minute! Did you say a guy in a gray suit?"

Clark nodded and said, "That's right. So?"

"So after the accident yesterday, I talked to my deputy friend; you know, the cute one I talked my out of a ticket with a while ago?"

Grinning slightly, Clark said, "I remember."

"Well, I wasn't really sure what I was after, but I figured I might as well ask if they'd found anything unusual when they investigated the accident. He told me that, even though the whole thing was a little weird, they hadn't found any physical evidence to suggest anything out of the ordinary at the scene. But that's not the important part."

"Well what is, then?" Clark said, a bit bewildered.

"The important part is that, just sort of off-hand-like, my buddy said that the only really weird thing he could remember happening to him yesterday happened out in the courthouse parking lot. He said that, as he was heading out to his patrol car, he ran across some guy who'd just parked his car there and was heading across the street for something. When he told him that he'd have to move the car if he didn't have business inside the courthouse, the guy gave him some half-ass plausible story about just wanting to check out some shop before he went up to the assessor's office." She paused for a moment, and then continued with, "That doesn't really sound like much, but there were three other important things my buddy told me. One, he had a really funny feeling about the guy, like he was up to something no good. Two, he was wearing a gray business suit, just like your bad guy from last night. And three… well, he said he was on company business, and he flashed a Luthor Corp ID."

Silence greeted this announcement, until finally Talia said, "The courthouse. That was the last place Clark's mom and I were yesterday. And that's where I heard the scratching sounds underneath the car. The sounds that this thing must've been making while it messed with the brakes and who knows what else."

Clark was shaking his head slowly as he mulled over the implications of Chloe's new information, and then he said, "Luthor Corp. Chloe, do you really think- do you think that Lex would be behind something like this? A car wreck that could've killed two people? And if so, why? What could he possibly gain from something like that?"

Chloe shrugged and said, "Beats me, Clark. And Lex may be a lot of things, but randomly homicidal isn't one of them. Plus, this just seems… I don't know. Heavy handed? Even if Lex had a reason to do something like this, it just doesn't seem like his style. He's a whole lot more devious than that."

"So maybe the Luthor Corp thing was just a smokescreen then," Talia said slowly. "Whoever these jerks are, they've probably done their homework. So it stands to reason that, whoever they're really working for, they'd have cover stories ready. And with the reputation that Luthor Corp seems to have around here…"

"They'd make a pretty good scapegoat," Clark finished for her. "Or at least a good piece of misdirection."

Chloe nodded slowly and said, "That makes sense. But if these guys aren't working for Luthor Corp, then who are they working for? And why would they want to cause an accident like that any more than Lex would?"

"Those are the two million dollar questions," Clark said evenly. "And I have a feeling that our little friend on the workbench might be able to help us answer them."

A few minutes later, all three of them stood around the workbench, which had become something of an impromptu dissection table. Clark had insisted that both Chloe and Talia stay back as he worked, just in case there were any nasty surprises inside the little mechanical critter, and neither of them had offered more than token objections.

After some initial difficulty getting the damaged carapace open, remedied by the surreptitious use of a little super-strength, the rest seemed to be fairly straightforward. The various screws and nuts that held the thing together were of standard makes, and Clark was reasonably sure that he had all the allen, star-head, and hex tools he'd need somewhere in Jonathan's tool chest. But then, as he was starting to move aside the several layers of lead foil that seemed to shield the heart of the thing, another problem arose.

He'd previously identified a small hole on the drone's outer shell, most likely caused by a piece of shrapnel from the Escort's explosion, and it seemed to go all the way through the inner layers of foil to the center. As he peeled away the last layer, he found that this was indeed the case, and that substantial damage had been done to several unidentifiable components. He only noticed this peripherally, though, because only one damaged part actually mattered to him at that point; a small metallic cylinder that had been pierced and was now leaking a faintly glowing greenish powder onto the circuit boards beneath it.

A wave of nausea swept over him as he moved the lead foil aside, and a familiar ache began to make it's way from his hands on up his arms. With a muttered, "Whoa," he quickly took a step back, the effects of the suddenly exposed kryptonite fading with distance.

From where she stood a couple of paces back, Chloe took a step forward and, sudden concern on her face said, "What is it, Clark? What's the matter?"

"I'm not sure," he said, thinking quickly. "I, uh, just got really dizzy for a second after I opened that thing up."

Frowning slightly, Talia stepped forward to peer at the thing and, seeing the telltale green glow, remembered the conversation of the night before. Thinking quickly also, she said, "Well, I'm no mechanical genius or anything, but with all that lead foil and all… maybe this thing's got a radioactive power source. And if it's damaged…"

"It could be leaking," Clark said quickly.

"Sure," Chloe said a bit skeptically, doubting in her own mind that garden variety radiation would have any real effect on Clark but willing to go along with the charade. "I guess that makes sense." And then, frowning, she said, "So if that's the case, what do we do with it now? Apparently it's not safe to mess around inside it anymore."

"Actually," Clark said, "I was kind of hoping you might have some ideas. You are the one with all the connections, after all."

Chloe's frown deepened for a moment and then, brows suddenly smoothing, she said, "Y'know I just might know somebody who could do something with that thing. I'll have to give him a call first, but…"

"While we're on the subject," Talia said, fishing something from the front pocket of her skirt, "Do you think your friend might be able to do anything with this?" As she finished, she held out the object she'd retrieved, the small metallic needle that'd been dug out of her chest the night before. Jonathan had set it down on the counter before departing with Martha earlier, and, since Clark obviously couldn't, she'd held onto it instead.

Peering at the object curiously, Chloe said, "I'm not sure. It kind of depends on what the heck it is."

"It's the round that those creeps shot at me last night," Talia replied. Then, anticipating Chloe's next question, she added hastily, "We, um, headed back out there early this morning to take another look around. We just got sort of lucky and found this thing stuck in a tree. Clark had a helluva time digging it out, too."

"Riiight," Chloe said, believing not a word of Talia's explanation but willing to let it ride for the moment. "So what do you want to do with it?"

"If it's possible," Clark interjected, "We'd like to get a metallurgical analysis done on it. It's definitely not a normal bullet of any kind, and we'd like to know what it's made of. We're hoping that might give us some more clues to work with."

Chloe nodded slowly and said, "Makes sense, I guess." And then, glancing to both of them in turn she said, "So! You two up for a little trip to Metropolis?"

A few hundred meters down the road from the Kent farm but still well within viewing distance, a white Chevy sedan sat parked off the road and partially obscured by roadside brush. Inside, the blue-suited woman sat behind the wheel, with the gray-clad man to her right. He peered in the direction of the Kent farm with what appeared to be a normal set of binoculars, but wasn't. Then, as a small red Volkswagen pulled out of the driveway, heading in the direction of the interstate, he said, "Looks like the targets are heading out with the Sullivan girl. Ready for a little road trip?"

Grinning sardonically, the blue-clad woman said, "Sure, why not? Just make sure to call 'Dad' and let him know what we're doing."

A few hours later, inside a lab at Metropolis University, Clark, Chloe and Talia all stood, watching curiously from a distance, as Chloe's friend worked on the items they'd brought. How Chloe had come to make the acquaintance of an engineering department professor whose specialty just happened to be robotics, with the requisite base skills in metallurgy, Clark was at first unsure. But her explanation, that she'd consulted him once or twice for background information on a couple of articles while interning at the Daily Planet, was actually quite plausible. At any rate, once she'd hinted to him what they had over the phone, he'd at least agreed to see them, and when he'd seen the drone itself… well, suffice it to say that his interest was peaked. He treated the small metallic spike as a bit of an afterthought, but he did set it up for analysis in a mass spectrometer in the next room, and sort of bounced back and forth between it, the drone, the coffee pot, and the lavatory on a semi-random basis.

Finally, turning away from the drone and stripping off the heavy lead-lined gloves he'd donned as soon as they'd mentioned possible radioactivity, the professor, Dr. Cole, Chloe had called him, came over to the three teenagers. He was a large man, with more the look of someone who'd gotten through college on a wrestling scholarship than on an academic one, but he had a pleasant, soft-spoken voice and retained his good looks in a fortyish way. There was a thoughtful expression on his face as he stopped in front of Chloe, and he said, "Well, I've figured out a few things if you're interested."

"Dying to know would be more like it, Dr. Cole," she said earnestly. "What've you got?"

"Well, for starts… you're sure you don't know where this thing came from?"

Shaking her head, Chloe said, "Sorry, Professor, but it's like we told you. We found it out in a field in Smallville. We were hoping you could help us figure out where it came from."

Nodding slowly, Dr. Cole said, "I see. Well, I'm not sure I can do that, but I can tell you that this thing is state of the art and then some. There's nothing inside of it that's unidentifiable, but… almost all of the components I've looked at in there are at least two generations ahead of anything else I've ever seen. Technological generations, of course, not human ones."

Frowning slightly, Talia said, "What do you mean, Professor? Two generations ahead how?"

"That's a little hard to explain," he said slowly, "But here's an example. The processing system inside that thing… there's not a mark on any of those chipsets to tell who made them, but they're at least three to five years ahead of anything Intel or AMD has out on the market right now. And then there's the headcheese…"

"Headcheese?" Clark said in a bewildered tone, not sure if he'd heard correctly or not, super-hearing notwithstanding.

"Headcheese is a term I'm actually sort of borrowing from science fiction," Dr. Cole said. "It's a little more colorful than saying 'an aeorgel lattice containing live neuronal material in suspension', don't you think?"

Chloe blinked once very deliberately and then said, "Wait a minute. As frightening as it sounds, I think I just understood part of that. Are you telling us that there are live brain cells inside that thing?"

The professor nodded slowly and said, "Oh, it's a sealed unit. A block of aerogel in a plastic case with the neurons suspended inside and a small nutrient reservoir attached. That, in turn, is connected to the regular electronic chipsets, making it an integral part of the processing system."

"Whoa!" Chloe said. "So you're saying that this thing is alive?"

"Hardly," the professor replied. "It's just a kind of organic computing module; we've been experimenting with things like it for years. If I had to guess, I'd say that the neurons in question were probably cultured from a rat or maybe a dog's brain; those are what we've had the best luck with so far. The point is, this thing is years ahead of anything else I've ever seen. It's actually part of a working system, whereas everything else I've ever heard of has just been an experimental setup in a lab. I can't believe that this is actually out there somewhere…"

"Professor," Clark said carefully, "What exactly is the advantage of this thing? You said yourself that it has to be fed some kind of nutrient solution; why not just use straight electronics? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Easier," the professor agreed. "But there are a lot of things that organic systems are just better at than any electronics we can put together today. In this case, I think that thing is locomotion."

"What do you mean by that, Professor?" Talia asked.

"I mean that, as near as I can tell, that module was wired in to serve the same function for the robot that our cerebellum serves for us. It looks like it was being used to take care of all the minutia involved with locomotion; balance, coordination, patterns of movement for each individual leg and manipulator, things like that. Those are the kinds of things that organic systems still outperform electronics in."

"Wow," Chloe said, obviously impressed. Then, after a moment's pause, she said, "So what else did you find out, Professor? What's the deal with all that lead foil?"

Nodding slowly, Dr. Cole said, "You were right about the power source; it's a small nuclear thermoelectric cell. In fact, given the thing's output, it's a lot smaller than I'd have thought possible."

"How's that, Professor?" Clark said, particularly interested in that piece of hardware.

"Well," the professor said, "To put it bluntly, it's cranking out a lot of juice. A lot more than a normal cell that size could. But this one's anything but normal." Pausing for a moment, he continued with, "I analyzed the reactant leaking out of it, and… well, it's an interesting mix. A little bit of Americium, a dash of Cesium, and a whole lot of something the machine couldn't identify. On a hunch, I called up some old files; the spectral line for the mystery substance looked familiar to me. As it turns out, I was right; there was a match. A man by the name of Dr. Hamilton cataloged the same substance back around nineteen-ninety in a meteoroid sample from-"

"Smallville," Chloe said flatly.

The professor nodded and said, "Good guess. But I seem to remember you having a pet obsession of some sort with those meteors. I looked up your school paper online after our last interview, and I must admit, you make a pretty… compelling case for them having odd properties of some sort." Then, frowning, he added, "If I remember correctly, Dr. Hamilton thought so too."

"Well," Chloe said carefully, "That's neither here nor there, really. But you're saying that somebody's figured out how to use the meteor rocks as a power source?"

The professor nodded and said, "Nuclear physics isn't exactly my strong suit, but it certainly looks like it. Not only that, but apparently it has a lot more kick than more conventional fissionables. And that's not all."

"What else have you got, Professor?" Talia asked.

"That little metal spike… believe it or not, there are trace amounts of the same substance in it. It's mostly tungsten and, oddly enough, depleted uranium, but there's just the tiniest amount of this other stuff mixed in."

"Why?" Clark said, puzzled. "What does the meteor rock do for it?"

"Well, here's a little hint," the professor said. "After I ran that thing through the spectrometer, I tested some of it's physical properties. Among other things, I found out that the only thing I wasn't able to scratch with it was an industrial-grade diamond. That gives your little needle a hardness of somewhere over nine on the Mohs scale. If you're wondering, that makes it just about the hardest known metal on the planet. Now do you understand what the 'meteor rock' does for it?"

"It's a hardener," Clark said slowly. "Like carbon for steel."

The professor nodded again, and then said, "Another odd thing about that spike; it's magnetized. Highly magnetized, in fact."

"Really," Talia said, non-plused. "And just what the heck do you think that means?"

"Actually, I'm not sure," the professor admitted. "Do you have any idea what the thing was used for?"

Talia gave a short laugh and said, "Oh, I know what it was used for, Professor. It was used as a bullet, with me as the target! In fact, if I'd been a little less lucky, well… I think you can figure that one out."

"Huh!" the professor said. "I think that answers that then. Have any of you ever heard the term 'rail gun' before?"

Frowning, Chloe said, "Yeah, actually I've heard Uncle Sam use it. My Uncle, Sam Lane I mean. He was talking about some of the experimental stuff the military is supposedly working on. Nothing classified, of course, just the public disclosure stuff. But I got curious, so I Googled it, and… well, it's a weapon that uses magnetic fields to accelerate a round instead of an explosive charge. I remember reading that a lot of people think it's the future for artillery and stuff like that. They said that they've pretty much reached the limits of what chemical charges can do, and that to get any more velocity, they'll eventually have to go electromagnetic. But I remember that the problem was-"

"Power," the professor said flatly. "In order to power some of their test-rigs, the military had to do things like fill whole cargo trailers full of car batteries. Nothing else would give them the amount of power they needed in one big jolt." Then, looking toward the partially dissected drone on his workbench, the professor said, "But if that power cell is as hot undamaged as I think it is, power wouldn't be an issue for whoever built that thing."

Frowning curiously, Chloe said, "So just how much punch would that little spike have packed, Professor?"

Shaking his head slowly, the professor said, "Let's just say it's a good thing that whoever fired it missed. If it's anything like the theoretical rail-action weapons I've read about, that little spike there must've been traveling somewhere around ten times as fast as any rifle bullet. Couple that up with it being needle-sharp and almost as hard as diamond and… well, I'd have to guess that thing could probably punch it's way right through a couple of feet of plate steel. I'm pretty sure it would've torn a teenaged girl right in half."

"Yeah," Talia said, looking to Clark with just a hint of bone-dry sarcasm in her voice, "Good thing it missed, alright."

"So!" Clark said hastily, trying to draw any possible attention away from Talia's last remark, "Anything else we need to know about this stuff, Professor?"

Dr. Cole shook his head and said, "That's about all I can tell you off the cuff. But I'm sure I haven't even begun to scratch the surface, on the robot at least. Give me a couple of days to get into the electronics, into the software, and I might have some answers for you. There's bound to be some clue as to it's origins in the code that makes it tick."

A significant look passed between the three teenagers, and then finally Chloe said, "Dr. Cole, I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Leaving it here, I mean. After all, whoever this thing belongs to already took a shot at an unarmed girl with the mother of all elephant guns."

But the professor just shook his head and said, "Would it be any safer for you to take it home with you? I can understand why you don't want to take this to the police, but at least here it'll be locked up in the lab and watched over by campus security. Their competence might be questionable, but they're certainly better than nothing." He paused for a moment to let this sink in and then said, "Besides, if you don't let me keep working with it, how are you going to find out anything more about it? Hmm?"

There was silence in the room for a moment as the same significant look passed between Chloe, Clark, and Talia once more. Finally, Chloe caught just a bare hint of a nod from Clark and then said, "I guess you have a point, Professor. But still… be careful. We don't know who the people behind these things are, but we know for sure that they're dangerous."

Nodding absently, the professor said, "Of course, Ms. Sullivan, of course. Now was there anything else?"

"No," Chloe said, turning for the door, "I think that's it for now, Professor. But I'll give you a call tomorrow, just to make sure everything's still cool."

Dr. Cole made no reply to this, turning instead back toward his workbench as the three teens exited, anxiously anticipating a long night of tinkering with his newfound toy.

Outside, across the street from Dr. Cole's lab, a familiar pair sat in a white Chevy sedan, watching unobtrusively as Clark, Chloe and Talia hopped back into the Volkswagen and headed out. This time, in addition to the binos held by the gray-suited man, another device, wielded by the blue-clad woman, was trained on the building across from them. The thing in her hands looked like some sort of miniature parabolic microphone, but while it's function was the same, the manner of it's workings was most definitely not.

"Well, that was certainly educational," the gray-clad man said dryly.

"A little too educational," the blue-suited woman added.

"Yeah," the gray-suited man replied absently, fishing his cell from a coat pocket. After hitting the speed dial, he waited a few seconds and then said, "It's me. We're still down at last reported yardage, and it looks like this quarter's about over. The opposing team had a little huddle, and got a lot more game information than we think is safe. We're going to be following them back to the home field now, but recommend having a couple of local players come in and grab the ball from the new coach. Also recommend that the new coach be offered early retirement, I repeat, early retirement. He knows just a little too much to keep coaching the opposition."

Wow! End of chapter 7, and boy, did it end up being a long one. Sorry about that, but there was a lot I wanted to squeeze into this one. Also, I know there wasn't any real action in this chapter, but consider it sort of transitional. Things should pick up again in the next couple of chapters, so stay tuned, and please review!