"You know how to roll with blows, right, Clark?" Lex asked as they were getting out of the car.
He gave Lex a confused look. "Um, sufficiently, I guess."
Lex nodded curtly. "Learn to perfect that."
"Why?" Lex was just plain crazy sometimes. Was he planning on staging a fight?
"Because people don't treat servants well. Also, if I hit you, don't you dare turn back around and deck me. I really don't want to have to think of an excuse for why I don't want you killed on the spot, alright?"
He seriously had to be kidding, or at least Clark hoped he was. Apparently, though, he was not, just judging by the way Lex was staring at him. Whatever traces of a smile had been on his face quickly faded. "Right." He'd survived for years on the streets and underground, so why did it feel like he was such a novice now?
"Carry this," Lex said rather rudely, and Clark figured they'd gone into role-playing form.
The front gate loomed in front of them, and Clark had to work to make himself not tense up, although maybe a servant—which was really Lex's nice way of saying slave—should be afraid of it. The gate surrounded the whole place, and there was more security than Clark had ever seen. Aliens were everywhere.
"Mr. Luthor," the alien at the entrance greeted Lex. "May I see your card?"
Lex reached into his pocket and fished out an ID, handing it to the alien. Clark didn't get to see it, but he had the feeling that if it got Lex into the capitol it would get him in anywhere. "Clear," the alien announced as he scanned it though a machine at the gate. "You're free to go inside."
Lex's gate and posture were that of someone who was influential, knew he was influential, and intended to use that influence. Clark did his best to follow behind looking pathetic. He was pretty sure that servants weren't supposed to look like the person they were with was their best friend.
The capital building was magnificent, and Lex seemed to know his way around. Clark couldn't believe how many aliens there were there, and if he'd ever been able to sneak in, this would have been the perfect place—the absolute perfect place—to really upset (maybe even destroy) their system.
And Lex had unlimited access to all of it.
What the heck was Lex thinking? Why hadn't he destroyed the place yet?
Lex continued through the building until they both reached a large ornately carved door with some symbols on it. Clark had to look carefully at them, but after a quick perusal he was able to see that they said something along the lines of, "Justice to all who deserve it, though some deserve it more than others."
Two aliens were posted outside the door, but they simply nodded at Lex. Clark fell a little behind and was shocked when Lex suddenly grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward. "Will you hurry up, damn it!" he spat, shooting Clark a terribly condescending look.
Clark let himself be jerked forward. He found he more felt like hitting the aliens when they snickered at this rough treatment than he felt like hitting Lex. Non-the-less, he hurried along into the court room.
The court room was possibly the most ominous thing he'd ever seen. There were no seats for the jury, but only one tall seat, rising up at the front of the room and towering over everything else. There was a single seat in front of the table and on its arms were two wrists restraints. In fact, it had all the restraints that the chairs used for branding had possessed. All of these restraints were completely unnecessary since the aliens all had super-speed and no human could outrun them, but it was simply the principle as well as the tone it set for the whole thing. Clark shivered when he saw it, for he remembered receiving his mark.
Behind the single chair there were seats, and Lex led him over to the front room. An alien nodded to him and he sat down, motioning for Clark to sit beside him. Clark sat and began to watch.
Watching was one of Clark's strengths. He gained some of his power from observing— from knowing—what was going on. It wasn't a skill he'd really had when he'd been younger, but as he'd grown it had developed and he'd cultivated it. In those nearly-five years it had been what had often saved him and allowed him to prevail.
There was no jury, and there wouldn't be one either. You were guilty from the moment the rachla decided you were. And while the rachla seldom took the time to actually take an active part in a case, if he did and he were against you then you were as good as dead. The judge was always an alien, no matter who was being tried, and he would do whatever the rachla wanted. Clark didn't know if Victoria was in that situation or not.
Even if the rachla didn't take an interest in your case you still got no jury. A judge would hear you out, and he'd most certainly be swayed by the opinions of the other aliens in the room. If you were popular with the people it was likely you'd get off. If you weren't it was likely that you wouldn't.
And apparently court had just come into session, because an alien who appeared to be the judge strode up the steps to the seat overlooking the room and sat down. The next moment the doors to the room banged open and a frightened pleading could be heard.
"Please, I've done nothing! Please!"
Clark felt Lex shift beside him as he turned to look at the doors. He immediately turned back, and at first Clark was at a loss as to why. As Victoria came into view he knew immediately.
She looked horrid. There were dark bags around her eyes, her hair was messy and her once-shapely body was thin and gaunt. Her eyes had a haunted look, and Clark could only wonder at what she'd gone through, for if he didn't have that look after what had happened to him, what could have possibly made her look like that?
"Please," she begged again and Clark could only watch as a guard smashed his hand into her mouth, silencing her. She stumbled and they continued to pull her forward, tearing at the knees of her prison uniform that was already really only a glorified rag. The blow had the desired effect, however, as she fell silent while blood dribbled down her mouth.
Clark closed his eyes briefly. He didn't think that even Lex probably wished this on her. Clark knew he didn't. That feeling doubled when he saw her forced into that chair.
"Victoria Hardwick," the alien posing as judge called out. He had no gavel, but he didn't need one. As soon as he spoke everyone in the hall turned towards him, including Victoria. The tone of his voice was enough of a call to order. "You are charged with selling information to the renegade party known to our kind as rebels. Furthermore, you are charged with the misdemeanor of arranging the murder of one of our government officials in order to further aid the rebels. Such crimes are punishable by-"
"I'm innocent!" she shrieked, tears coming to her eyes. "Please, Sir!" Clark had to appreciate that lovely British accent of hers, even given the present circumstances.
"I did not call for you to speak!" he roared, easily drowning her out. "Be silent or there will be no trial."
Victoria fell back in her chair, the tears spilling over. She'd be found guilty. Clark knew it, Lex knew it, Victoria knew it, the whole courthouse knew it. The trail was little more than a Kangaroo court, meant so that the aliens could say they were bringers of justice. No one would say anything against that, although they all knew better, if only simply because they didn't want charges to be brought against them.
The judge went on. "Crimes such as the ones just listed are punishable with death."
Her face paled, although Clark thought she must have known it was coming. "How do you plead?" the judge asked apathetically.
"I'm innocent, Sir. I was framed!"
The alien looked at her coolly, his mask of apathy never faltering, much less changing. "By whom?" he asked disinterestedly.
"A woman newly introduced to society! I swear by it."
"Only names," he told her.
"Lana Lang! She framed me to gain her place in society. I-I gave her some information, yes, but it was not on how to bring down our society. It was to help us! I swear it! She had been doubling as a comrade to three other rebels for years, and she wished to know how to make her way into society—who to talk to in order to inform on them! She needed a lab to finish some type of serum. I don't know what it was! Please!"
Clark felt his breath suddenly stop coming. A serum? It could only be the one that he'd taken to remove his powers.
"She lies," the judge said simply. "Lana Lang did indeed turn in three other rebels recently, but she's turned in others before. She has been a double from perhaps the second year of the war."
Vertigo washed over Clark and he had to work to keep his head up. Only determination, desperate strength, and drive allowed him to do so. The second year of the war...
"Victoria Hardwick, you have been found guilty of high treason against the republic you so fervently claimed to support. I am sentencing you with capital punishment in the form of an injection to take place immediately."
"No!" she shrieked. "It's Lana Lang! She doesn't want anyone to know the things she did against this regime! She had a part in Chicago! I swear it! I swear it!" she screamed, becoming hysterical.
The judge rose from his seat, regarding her with something that looked very much like disgust. "Brand her first," he said as he started down the stairs.
Clark froze in his seat. There apparently was a reason that the chair had all the same restraints as the one he'd been marked in. "NO!" she shrieked, finally going over the top and becoming completely hysterical. "No, please, no," she whimpered as a man walked into the court room, a glowing iron in his hands.
Clark didn't want to know where he'd gotten the iron in the central building for all alien activity. After all, what kind of government kept means with which to torture people right in their place of work? It didn't matter where it had come from, though, because he had it, and he was advancing on Victoria with it.
"NO!" she screamed again as the dirty cloth was torn off her shoulder. Clark found himself shaking as they shoved the iron to her skin. He desperately tried to control the mad shaking of his hands by shoving them under his legs, but he could feel himself beginning to sweat as well.
Her screams became primal and Clark wondered if that was how he'd looked. Her face was alight with pain and desperate shame, and her cries seemed to be unending. He'd heard others scream like that when he'd had it done, but had he? He hoped not, because that look, oh, that look was frightening in a way Clark didn't want to examine—Just like he didn't want to examine the brand on his own left shoulder.
About a minute later it was done, and she was left panting and sobbing. Clark was left shaking, feeling terribly sick at the smell of burned flesh. He'd never wanted to smell that again—had never wanted to smell it in the first place. Only great self-control stopped him from vomiting.
After she'd received the mark another man came forward, this time holding a small needled and syringe. Victoria began to sob at the sight of it, but she seemed oddly resigned. She'd lost hope, Clark realized, and it really wasn't a hard thing to do.
She didn't struggle at all as the man slid the needle into the skin of her neck, right at her jugular vein. Her head had already lolled to the side anyway. She'd completely given up. She barely even flinched as the medicine was shot into her vein.
Victoria Hardwick slipped out of life without so much as even a noise.
It didn't seem fitting, especially because Clark knew she wasn't guilty, at least not of the crime by which she'd been tried and condemned. Lana had framed her, because she'd used her as part of her plan to rise up—a plan that was only then becoming clear—and everyone who had been a part of her life that could possibly do harm to her had to die. That was why she'd attempted to kill him, Clark realized.
Clark could hear the scraps of chairs all around him as well as people rising to their feet. There was a sharp jerk on his arm, but Lex spoke no harsh words to him. Perhaps he understood that Clark was far too liable to shatter at that point in time. But whatever the reason, he was led in the stream of people leaving the room and out the door as gently as was possible without blowing their cover. Clark was thankful, because he wasn't sure he'd have been able to handle it otherwise.
As they walked out the door he took one last look at Victoria's body. She'd been caught in the crossfire of terrible plan that had nothing to do with her, Clark realized. She'd paid with her life.
The smell of burned flesh still touched his nostrils as he walked out, a reminder of the price he'd paid for Lana's betrayal as well. Victoria wasn't alone in that.
--------------------------------
"I didn't know they'd brand her," Lex said softly once they were back in the car.
"But you knew she'd be dead."
"So did you as soon as you walked in the room. You could feel the mood of the room as well as I could."
Clark nodded, leaning back in the seat. "Yes."
"I knew the trial was related to Lana."
"Lana framed her. She was innocent of those crimes." Clark felt as though he were going into shock. His head seemed to be stuck straight ahead staring out the window, or rather staring anywhere but at Lex, while his mind was thinking of anything other than what was on his back. His demons were...so much bigger and more persistent than most.
"She was guilty of others."
"But not of the ones she was killed for. Lana framed her."
"You knew that from the moment her name came into it. You needed to have that information. I needed to have that information. That's why I had us both go, but I didn't know she'd be branded."
"I-shit," he swore, placing his face in his hands. "I could smell it. It made me gag. You don't know what it was like, Lex, to have it done. I wonder if I sounded like she did. I wonder what I looked like. I don't want to know, damn, I don't." He fell silent as he realized he was rambling.
"You held it together surprisingly well."
"I always do," he replied softly, going back to looking out the window.
"You know that Lana's trying to kill off anyone who could possibly know anything about her sudden rise to power."
Clark took a deep breath, composing himself. "Yes, but I think there's got to be something else. I don't think she could have risen to power just like that. I mean, wouldn't they have arrested her when she showed up to inform on us?"
Lex nodded slightly. "Have you ever heard the expression 'All's fair in love and war'?"
"You think she's sleeping with someone at the top?" he asked, the possibility making him sick. Had Lana been planning this for years? Who was he kidding? He'd heard the judge say she'd been informing since the second year of the war. Of course she had been planning it for years.
"I think she has been since fairly near the beginning. In this day and age you do what you've got to. But the strange thing is I think that she may have tried to protect you for some time."
Clark's brow wrinkled. He'd like to believe that, but he'd never been one to deceive himself. It never came to any good, and he knew that. "Why do you think that?"
"Because by all rights, and with the way this story's coming together, you should have been dead early on."
"We're missing something here," he said knowingly. "Something big."
"I suspect she's done of good job of hiding whatever that thing is," Lex guessed. And Lex's guesses were always pretty straight on.
They both fell silent after that. Clark suspected that they were both contemplating what exactly Lana had been doing and what they were missing. Clark was still just trying to keep the bile in his throat down. That smell...
