'To be governed is to be watched over, inspected, spied upon, directed, legislated at, regulated, docketed, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, assessed, weighed, censored, ordered about. Such is government, such is justice, such is morality.'
Pierre-Joseph ProudhonThe rest of the night had passed sleeplessly for Clark. Lana's hysterics had settled eventually and she had been immovable in her conviction to walk home by herself, eager to hold on to what was left of her pride. Clark, however, was finding it infinitely hard to put the night's events behind him, and opted rather to put them into retrospect.
Lana had come to him lonely, needy and vulnerable, to have given into her would have been taking advantage, something he couldn't allow himself to do. No, his morals had won out, once again, and, once again, it was probably for the best.
"You know Smallville," A familiar voice popped into his head. "The difference between a moral man and a man of honour is that the latter regrets a discreditable act, even when it has worked and he has not been caught." He thought about Lois' aura when she had told him that, and wondered, if it had been she who had come to him confused and vulnerable, would he have had the strength to turn her away.
He sat up, the clock on the mantle place said it was ten past six. The cockerel would start crowing soon, ready for the new day of work. Had Lois not been there Clark would have gladly picked up the slack on the farm, but things hadn't worked out that way. Still, Clark was happier than he was able to admit at having Lois so nearby. Her heart beat was an immeasurable comfort, even if its constant fluttering told him she had never quite settled down to sleep, something he was sure to feel the consequences of.
He picked up the remote and quietly turned on the news. While the headlines confirmed that his help hadn't been required during the night, they still didn't make for happy reading, but like Perry always said, "Good news doesn't sell."
A scuffling sound, swiftly followed by a muffled bang, which was in turn swiftly followed by a muffled curse, told him he wasn't alone.
Clark looked up to the upstairs landing to see Lois leaning on the banister at the top of the stairs, vigorously rubbing her shin, her commandeered tartan shirt exposing more than she would have usually allowed it. She looked like a vision, or at least, as much like a vision as is humanly possible after two sleepless nights.
"Bloody bookcase." She muttered indiscreetly.
"And a good morning to you too." Clark called up, as he put on the unnecessary glasses and made his way to the bottom of the stairs.
"Bah!" Lois grunted as she hobbled down the stairs, helped down the last two by Clark's outstretched hand.
"Is that a euphemism for, 'I got up on the wrong side of the bed'?" He coyed.
"Try fell." Lois muttered as she hobbled over to the couch. "Out of, and into… My suitcase." She smiled as she realised her own folly. "Guess that could have been my own fault, for kinda not cleaning up probably." She threw herself unceremoniously down onto the couch. "Please, feel free to contradict me at any time." She added.
"We both know that's a loaded statement." Clark smiled as sat down next to her.
"Yeah well…" Lois sat for a moment in total concentration. "Bah!" She exclaimed eventually. "To early to think of a witty come back. What time is it anyway?" She squinted at the onscreen news ticker, "Ten past bloody six." She mockingly sobbed. "Why can't I sleep? Why? Why?"
Clark also cast his eyes down to the news ticker. "Well, the good news is Mrs. Miggins found her kitten."
"In this world of war, pestilence, famine and death, it would have been more sense for it to have stayed lost."
"I see you're in your usual happy, cheerful mood this morning." He teased.
"Shut up." Was all the reply Lois could think of. "Need coffee." She muttered suddenly. "Must have coffee. Will go get coffee. Will go get coffee right now…" Lois' voice was more determined than the rest of her. Clark watched her as she remained seated, waiting for the inevitable.
"…Smallville?"
"Yes, Lois?"
"Can you give me a hand up?"
Clark smiled as he stood up and heaved Lois to her feet.
"Thank you." She said, swaying to stay on her tired feet.
"Lois?"
"Yep?" She replied sleepily.
Clark put a hand to her shoulder to steady her. "Lois, would you like me to make the coffee." He said earnestly.
Lois smiled. "I think we both know that's for the best." Lois' coffee making record was surprisingly poor for someone who had worked in a café for two years. Smiling Clark hooked his arm around her shoulder and led her into the kitchen.
"So," Martha said, placing her mug of coffee on the kitchen table. "What's the plan for today then?"
Across the table, a much caffeinated Lois was tapping her pencil irritably on her notepad. "Well, the council begins at two." She explained. "It's three hours in the car and it's ten thirty already." She looked up at the ceiling. "What's taking Clark?"
"He'll be down soon." Martha covered. "I just, er, asked him to fix the shower head."
"That boy's too gullible by half." Lois mumbled more than a little annoyed by her partner's reoccurring disappearing acts. "Typical." She sighed getting up off her seat. "More coffee Martha?"
"Just tea thanks dear. So, I didn't think State Council's were your and Clark's particular forte."
"They're not." Lois continued, handing Martha her tea. "But the great thing about Perry, he spends all his free time telling you to take a vacation, and when you actually ask for time off, it's on the basis that you cover some obscure event that nobody else is about to. Still." She added. "That's why we love him."
Lois took another sip of her coffee, looked down at her watch, frowned and took another sip. "They say too much of this stuff can be bad for you." She smiled.
Martha smiled back, and then slowly started to word the thoughts that had been troubling her. "Lois, about what I said last night…"
"Huh? Oh, that. Really Martha, it's nothing." Lois said comfortingly.
"Well, that's the problem." Martha carried on, undaunted. "It's not nothing. Clark he's… He's very fond of you." The older woman placed it delicately.
"I know." Lois answered simply, much to Martha's surprise. "And I'm very fond of him, but just not in that way, and it wouldn't be fair of me to make him think that. I'm sorry." She said as she noticed Martha's face drop. "I know how much you love him."
"Thank you." Martha said, reaching over to take Lois' hand. "And, who knows, maybe one day you will too."
Lois smiled sweetly and then, remembering herself, said, loud enough for anyone upstairs to hear. "Only if he bother's to turn up on time."
"A, B, C… D… er…" Laura looked up at Chloe past her breakfast bowl. "…E?"
"Yep!" Chloe grinned down as the little girl beamed with pride. "You know what comes next?"
"Yeah." Laura nodded enthusiastically. "F, G, H, I, J, K…"
"Okay, okay." Chloe laughed, cutting the little girl off. "You win, you win. You know more of your alphabet than I did at your age. Who's your teacher?"
"Mommy!" The youngster both answered and yelled as Lana wondered into the kitchen, kneeling down as Laura came racing up to her.
"Hiya honey." She said in a sing-song voice as she embraced the little three year old in her arms. "Did you have a good sleep?"
"Yeah, cause I had this dream and it was about yours and daddy's wedding and there was this big castle and I was a princess, but I didn't like being the princess, but anyway it all was good at the end and it was a really, really good wedding and everyone was really happy and there was this huge pink cake!" Laura finished with a flurry.
Chloe and Lana exchanged an amused glance, and then Lana turned back to the little girl. "Well," She smiled. "Let's hope it all turns out as well as in your dream." Then, mother and daughter traded another warm hug and, upon letting go, Laura ran off into the living room, for a date with Sesame Street, leaving the two adults in the kitchen.
"Pete left to go pick up his mom." Chloe said as Lana poured herself a bowl of cornflakes. "He said he didn't want to wake you."
"How did he seem?" Lana asked as she sat down.
"Determined." Chloe said truthfully. "He really wants this to go well."
"I know, and I love him for it." Lana smiled simply. She stared down at the cereal in her bowl. The last thing she felt like doing now was eating. No, the last thing she felt like doing now was counting down the hours to her rehearsal dinner. She felt like a fool, a selfish, callous, degraded, pathetic fool. How could she have done what she did? She had a beautiful daughter; a wonderful fiancée and she had tried to seduce a love long lost. But no matter how much she tried to deny it, how much she hated herself for it, the fact was inescapable, she still loved Clark, and the guilt was tearing her up inside.
"Hey, you okay?" Chloe had noticed Lana's far away look, and was becoming increasingly concerned about her friends well being.
"Yeah, great." Lana recovered quickly. "Just a bit nervous." This seemed plausible enough. "What time are the caterers coming?"
"Two o'clock, just to confirm the menu." Chloe answered spiritedly, pleased for some official maid of honour business.
"Great." Lana said. "And then it's on to the restaurant for six?" Chloe nodded. "Great." Lana confirmed. "Great." The show must go on.
Lois scribbled thoughtless nothings on her notepad as Clark slowly sipped his coffee. In the gallery below local representatives argued out their cases to the various members of congress. A young fair-haired man sat behind the name plate bearing the inscription 'P. Ross' filling in for the absent member. Above the gallery, various other members of the associated press sat disinterested and disheartened.
In the settled silence, the mundane sound of the snap of lead seemed almost deafening.
Lois looked dejectedly at her broken pencil; it was the final straw.
"What's the point? I mean what is the bloody point?" Clark looked up at the sound of her muffled outburst. "Why has he sent us here? Why? Why?"
"I think this is Perry's own special way of saying never leave again." Clark remarked with a side glance. Lois had a point, as far as slow news was concerned, this was almost fossilised. "He said he though there might be some more, controversial issues."
"And would a homicidal reporter rank as controversial enough for you?"
"Come on, it's not that bad."
"You see that guy at the back there." Lois gestured with her head. "He's been asleep for thirty minutes now."
"Are you angry because he had the cheek to fall asleep, or because you can't?
"It's not my fault the folks next door to my apartment are always at it like rabbits." Lois snapped back. "What did that guy say about cake?" She added, looking down.
"I think it was Senate."
"Oh Christ." Lois yawned, drooping her head. Clark glanced over at her; she was certainly looking worst for wear.
"Look, Lois." He sighed. "I hardly think Perry's gonna be to upset if we call it a day."
"Thanks Smallville, but I intend to be entirely professional about this." She smiled. "I'm going to write the best damn boring article ever. You see I have this theory about politics."
"Really?" He grinned.
"Yeah, well, I find it's more than just a coincidence that the word 'politics' is derived from the word 'poly' meaning 'many', and the word 'ticks' meaning 'blood sucking parasites.'"
Clark just laughed. "You really did break the mould didn't you?"
"No Smallville," Lois smirked. "I am the mould. Everyone else is just a cheap knock-off."
"…And they sing as it were a new song before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song save the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth. These are they, which were not defiled by women; for they are virgins. These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. And in their mouth was found no guile: for they are without fault before the throne of God…" A deep voice boomed out over the congregation.
They stood as if to attention, soldiers lined out in rank of virtue; Priests, Clergymen and footwashers, each one looking up to their exalted leader with love, devotion and allegiance. Each one blissfully unaware that they were the victims of mass brainwashing, totally dependent on the Authority for almost all major life decisions. And each one of them fully willing to commit martyrdom in order to punish the violators of God's law. Together they are the epitome of humanity's greatest threat, itself.
"My Brothers!" The Authority cried out from atop his podium. He was a man whose status did not fit his stature. He stood little and plump, his thinning white hair covering only half his head. His cheeks were warm and rosy, and he was decked out in the purest white. The perfect front for an imperfect society.
"My Brothers!" He cried again, his audience captivated by his every word. "Mankind has come to cross roads, the forces of Satan now run amuck throughout the globe. Mother's slaughter their unborn babies, men come into close personal contact with men, and young girls sell themselves up to the devil with the highest price, and yet outside society glances over this with a carefree eye. But still they cry and scream when the greater devils come out to wreak their havoc, and the Infidels beg for false idols in the guise of saviours. Men run to slightly clad whores for deliverance, and woman swoon over deceiving male saviours who do not have the strength of faith to give unto the Lord those who need punishing the most, and are thus just as wicked in their cowardice.
And as such, my Brothers, it falls to us to deliver mankind from its own evil. God has spoken to me and He says that our time has come. God's chosen people will be His weapon in the battle against the forces of Evil. The End is nigh; the world must be cleansed before the Second Coming, and we are the ones to do it. The result will be a violent and bloody struggle - a war – but one that we will win with the Divine Father on our side.
To prepare for these events you have all been trained in survivalist and paramilitary operations, or have gathered foodstuffs and supplies. And our most generous donator, lead by the hand of God, has provided us with weapons, ammunition and this wonderful old boarding hall in which we reside, isolated from the outside world and it's corruptions.
And it is in this wonderful environment that one of our most valued clergymen has prepared a plan so effective that it will for sure open the doors to our holy crusade. He has elaborated to my how we might go about bringing the world to our attention. He has identified two infidels most fowl, whose sins are to challenge the will of the Holy Father. What is more, one of these infidels is rumoured to have fornicated with one of the false idols, tainting the human pool in manner not seen since the Serpent first tempted the Mother of Mankind.
The final preparations must be made. Tonight we begin the will of the Lord. Brothers, holy war is at hand!"
An ample roar rose deafeningly from the congregation, and the Authority stood for a while, basking in the glow of admiration. Eventually he hoped down from his podium and headed out of the hall towards his office.
Once inside he slammed the door to, so that no one outside could see in. The office was lavishly decorated, the rich red and gold walls a stark contrast to the pale whites of the rest of the old boarding house. Only three people were allowed within these walls, the Authority, his helping hand, and the benefactor of the cult.
The Authority spread himself on the chair behind his desk, lapping up the immediate feeling of comfort. He turned to his helping hand. The young boy was a prime example of the effectiveness of his recruiting techniques. A high school drop out, the boy couldn't have been more than fifteen, an outsider who had finally found acceptance. His face was pale from a lack of proper nourishment, and his body thin from eating only porridge, a treatment all footwashers went through until they were probably purified.
"William?" The Authority said casually, in a voice very different to that which he used in front of his followers. "Please, give out gracious benefactor a ring." The young boy nodded and walked over to the desk, picking up the telephone. "Oh, and William." The older man added. "Tell Mr. Luthor everything's going according to plan."
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"…fluffy… er… killer bunnies… killer… er…" Lois mumbled quietly, her head resting on her arms, which were slumped over her notes.
"Lois. Lois?" Clark shook her gently by the shoulder, slowly waking her up.
"Uh, what is it Smallville?" She yawned.
"The council finished half an hour ago." He said softly.
"Oh… Crap…" Lois muttered, getting to her feet. She looked up at Clark's amused face. "You know, in Metropolis I sleep like a baby!"
"Somehow I find that hard to believe." Clark smiled, playfully dodging Lois' low swung punch.
"Fine." She laughed with mock curt. "But just remember Kent, one of these days when you're least expecting it I'll get you, and your little dog too." She smiled, taking him by the arm. "Come on farmboy, you're driving my back."
A/N: The Sons of Liberty are a fictional cult, and any resemblance to an actual organization is purely by chance. I would like to make it very clear that the views of the cult are not my own, and are in fact about as different as possible to my own beliefs. Finally, the offence is meant to any Christians or members of other religions. The inclusion of a religious extremist cult is merely my way of trying to give the mythos some contextual depth in the 21st century. In the words of Oliver Goldsmith, 'Don't make us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter.' If you don't like it, you don't have to read it.