Biological Families

by a-delacroix

*!* COMPLETE *!* Clark, Lana, and Whitney travel to 1936 Nazi Germany to save their friends. Special Guest Stars: Dr. and Mrs. Indiana Jones and Var El of Krypton. Note: This is a sequel to 'The Portal'.

9. Biological Families Chapter 9

Biological Families

Author: duane at duaneaakre dot com

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing. Well I own a house, two cars, a pair of jetskis, and a lot of other junk, but none of these characters.

Story Rating: R The story may drift into the HBO range rather than stay in the WB range, so to be on the safe side, I am rating this R.

Chapter 9

Lana quickly retracted the screen and barely had time to jam the cylinder back into the side pocket of her skirt before the door to the ballroom banged open and a man in the uniform of a SS Major stepped in, followed by the two men in black from the encounter at the hotel and the subsequent van ride. This major had escorted them from the van to this room when they had first arrived and then he had quickly departed when the violent shaking had started to emanate from the lower levels of the facility. Now he was back and this time he had a MP-40 submachine gun slung from his shoulder in addition to the Luger pistol at his belt. His two henchmen were still unarmed, but given their incredible strength, weapons hardly seemed necessary.

Major Johann Biberach looked liked the typical SS officer, as somehow they always seemed to be the antithesis of the Aryan ideal. Frankly, as Lana once again glanced at the men in the room, Whitney was by far the closest to the Aryan standard of tall, blond, and handsome. No, none of these terms described the Major who was barely taller than Lana, had greasy black hair, and had the mousy expression of a little man who enjoyed ordering bigger men around.

"Now that whatever problem was going on in the lower levels seems to have been taken care of," he began in heavily accented English. "We can finally get down to business. I am Major Biberach."

Nodding to Marion, he continued. "Mrs. Jones, I recognize you from your photos. And if I might say, they don't do you justice. And who are your two young companions?"

Before Marion had a chance to respond Lana stepped forward. "I am Lana Lang and this is Whitney Fordman. We are part of the U.S. Olympic Team. My mother is an old friend of Mrs. Jones and since we were all in Berlin at the same time, we stopped by to chat and to see if Marion and her husband would like to be our guests at the opening ceremonies. We had barely gotten seated when those two men," and Lana stabbed her finger towards the two men in black standing by the door. "Broke into the Jones' suite and dragged us all out, all except our friend and fellow competitor, Clark Kent. These men threw him through a wall and, I am very much afraid, probably left him seriously hurt. I thought they were just street thugs, but now I see they work for you.

"Well," and here Lana folded her arms and put a particularly smug expression on her face like she was a pampered athlete who always expected people to bend over backwards for her. "I don't know why you kidnapped us, but when I get back to the Olympic Village, I am going to get the U.S. Olympic Committee to submit a formal protest to your government. I think this little game you are playing is going to spoil all of the hard work the German government has put into hosting these games. I mean . . . oh, what is that saying? Ah, yes, to quote the Fuehrer, 'All propaganda has to be popular.' I don't know about you, but to me kidnapping, injuring, and perhaps killing American Olympic competitors doesn't sound like popular propaganda."

A frown briefly crossed Major Biberach's face before he responded. "I am well versed in the ideology of 'Mein Kampf', Miss Lang. Regardless of what it says, in this instance not all of us in the Nazi party are enamored with the idea of hosting the Olympics, which is a legacy we inherited from the previous government. Some of the leadership in the foreign affairs department felt this was an opportunity that could be used to the advantage of the government, but only if it doesn't hinder other, more important activities. And tonight falls into the 'other activities' category. Be very careful young lady, or you will have much more immediate concerns than filing complaints with your Olympic Committee."

"Now," he continued, turning his attention back to Marion. "Mrs. Jones, your husband has some information I need and you are going to help me obtain it. This can be easy or difficult, your choice."

Stalling for time, Lana jumped back into the conversation. "What are you going to do? Torture us?"

Biberach looked back at Lana. "If necessary."

Suddenly, Lana had a strong feeling of deja vu. A feeling that the scene played out between Venta, Chloe, and herself back in a dungeon in Rome was repeating itself. Only this time she realized she would have to play the Chloe part. She had to keep their attention and, if it came to it, the torture focused on herself. Only she could survive any pain and injuries they might try to inflict without permanent damage. But as the memories came flooding back of her previous experience of red hot pokers burning through her flesh, her fingernails savagely ripped out, and finally Venta's thumb pushing through her right eye to the very back of its socket, Lana could feel her panic rising. 'Come on, Lana, keep it together,' she thought to herself. 'The others are depending on you. And this time Clark knows where we are and he is only minutes away.'

Trying to force some humor into her voice, as she knew Chloe would do in this situation, Lana retorted in her most sultry tone. "Eww, hurt me, baby. I hope you are good, as I have been tortured by the best."

The Major looked at the pretty, petite girl, who was obviously not more than sixteen years old. He didn't know what game she was trying to play, but she certainly had no idea of the things he was capable of doing. Or the things he had already done down in the black cathedral. The tortures, mutilations, and human sacrifices he had performed to conjure aid for their cause from the dark planes. No, this girl had no concept of what he was capable of doing to reach his masters' goals of dominion over this world. He would do whatever was necessary to obtain the information they needed from Doctor Jones. And if the girl was still alive after he got the information, well, he might teach her the true meaning of pain.

"You look a little young to have any experience with torture."

Lana gave Biberach a little smile and for just an instant he saw something in her eyes that sent a whisper of fear down his spine.

"Oh, I am a little older than I look. Almost nineteen hundred years ago I spent a night in the torture chamber of the Roman leader of the Praetorian Guard, a very long, unpleasant night. He too was looking for some information from me."

Biberach stared at her. What was she talking about?

"What? From the expression on your face you don't seem to believe me," continued Lana. Then she waved her hand to indicate the two men in black still standing near the double doors leading out of the ballroom. "This from someone who has two supernaturally strong men working for him and who also practices 'Black Masses' to the demon Baphomet in the dark temple in the lowest subterranean vault of this old Templar citadel."

"How?" Biberach began at barely more than a whisper before he caught himself and closed his mouth. But he continued the thought silently to himself. 'How does she know about the temple to the mighty Lord Baphomet? The only people outside this facility who know of it are all members at the highest level of the order.'

Lana read the mostly unstated question in his face. "How do I know of the temple? When you have been around forever like me, you end up knowing all kinds of secrets, like how to read the glyphs carved into the lintel over the entrance to this chateau. However, a more important question you should be asking is, what happened to the leader of Praetorians who tortured me on that long ago day?"

Biberach was just staring numbly at her.

"Well, I'll take your silence as a sign you are still interested. The Roman leader, oh by the way his name was Patricus Gasparus Venta; he ultimately died at my hand after trying to execute me in the arena." Okay, Lana would admit that technically that was a white lie. It was Laura who was wielding the spear that day. But since Laura was using Lana's body at the time, from all outward appearances it had been Lana who dispatched Venta.

"Now, I think you should consider your next actions carefully before you end up just like the Praetorian leader."

Biberach continued to look at her for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Nice fairy tale," he began, then he quirked an eyebrow before continuing. "Are you trying to stall me? This is not some American Western movie. The cavalry is not going to be riding in to save you. You are in the heart of Nazi Germany. Try to stall all you want, the end will be the same."

In her mind Lana sagged a little; her Roman story was not having the desired effect. Perhaps the similar style of conversation Chloe had held with Venta had work longer because Venta had been a fellow time-traveler. Or perhaps Chloe was just a more convincing story teller; she certainly had had a lot more practice. Lana tried to quickly think of something else to keep the conversation going until the cavalry named 'Clark' showed up. 'Hurry, Clark,' she thought, 'before someone gets hurt.' Although she was no longer certain how quickly Clark would be there, as for the past couple of minutes her enhanced body could detect faint vibrations through the floor. These vibrations were nowhere near the intensity of the earthquake-like shaking from earlier; they felt more like the steady, rhythmic pounding of sledgehammers on a solid concrete floor or wall. Had Clark run into more trouble?

Therefore when the door to ballroom slammed open, Lana was briefly hopeful it was Clark coming to their rescue, but she was not hugely surprised when it was not. No, the man who came staggering through the entrance was another German officer. Although this officer's uniform was no longer pristine black like Major Biberach's. Instead, it was so heavily coated with gray dust it almost matched the color of the uniform used by the German Luftwaffe. Destroying that illusion were his face, hands, and hair, which were also coated with the gray dust. Actually, Lana realized, the only parts of the man which were not grey were his frantic, wild green eyes and the lower portions of his face and neck where his own red blood had washed away some of the obscuring dust.

One of the men in black grabbed this new officer's arm to keep him erect as he staggered into the room. Major Biberach quickly turned his attention away from his captives.

"Captain Hoffman, what happened to you?" He quickly asked in German, his voice pitched half an octave higher than normal.

Captain Hermann Hoffman's ears were still ringing loudly from the events he had witnessed down in the dungeon and only with extreme difficulty was he able to make out what Major Biberach said.

Still gasping for breathe after the long run up the many flights of stairs, Hoffman answered, also in German. "Sir . . . there's a man down in the dungeon fighting against Schultz and Jaeger . . . and the stranger is winning! . . . I had two of my men open fire on him with their machine guns and the bullets just seemed to bounce off his body. . . . He must be there to rescue Doctor Jones and . . . I don't know how we're going to stop him."

Marion's grasp of German was good enough to follow most of the man's comments and it left her looking at Lana and Whitney in shock. What was going on? Who were these kids? This Captain Hoffman had to be talking about Lana's friend Clark, who she had just seen on that magical viewing device with Hank down in the dungeon. How could bullets just bounce off his body? Then there was Lana with all of her knowledge about long-lost, ancient civilizations and her obvious skills with numerous languages. And her story about being torture by the Roman Praetorian Guard thousands of years ago, could it be true? The look Marion had seen in Lana's eyes for just a second as she had started to talk about having been tortured sure made it look like she had been telling the truth. Who were these kids?

Major Biberach stared incredulously at Captain Hoffman. Someone was down there that might defeat his supernaturally enhanced guards? What was going on? "Thank you, Captain. Go have your injuries looked to and then report back here."

Hoffman nodded and staggered back out the door. Biberach signaled to the men in black to re-secure the doors before turning back to his captives.

Lana could see the shock in the Major's face and tried to take advantage of the situation. Perhaps she could intimidate him into just letting them go.

"Major Biberach," began Lana, now also speaking in German, that language's guttural consonants helping to add a cold, steely edge to her voice. "This may be the heart of Nazi Germany, but I do believe, as you put it, the cavalry is about to arrive. Let us go now and you might come out of this mostly unscathed."

Lana's tone unfortunately had the opposite effect on Biberach from what she had been trying to achieve. Biberach hated people who took a superior tone with him. He might for the moment have to tolerate it from his masters, but he never let anyone below him get away with it. And he certainly wasn't going to take it from a prisoner. Particularly since her comment was untrue. He most definitely would not come through this unscathed, if he let them go. No, if he was unsuccessful in this endeavor, his own leaders might sacrifice him down in the black cathedral.

"No, the stranger down in the dungeon just proves I am on the right track. It is possible to make my special agents not only strong, but also completely invulnerable. It is still just a matter of getting Doctor Jones to divulge the secret to me." Biberach needed to think for a moment. An exchange of Mrs. Jones for the information was still possible, but he needed to get clear of here and get things back under his control. He needed Marion and there might be some advantage to also taking the other girl. Perhaps she would provide some leverage over this stranger or at least it would be interesting to see how, after all of her bravado, she would react to some real torture. Hmm. . . .

"Frenkel, Hein, we need to move quickly. Grab the women; we are relocating until we better understand what is going on here. We will take them to the Hitler." As he finished speaking, Biberach raised his MP-40 submachine, drew back the cocking lever, and released the safety catch. Turning, he swung the gun towards Whitney, who had been hanging back the whole time cradling his supposedly broken arm. Pulling the trigger, Biberach emptied the twenty seven round clip into Whitney's body.

From the moment the dust coated German officer had entered the room and the conversation had switched entirely to German, Whitney had had no idea what was going on. He was taken completely by surprise when the Major turned the machine gun on him and opened fire. He wasn't able to do anything to defend himself, not that there was much he could do since he didn't have Clark's invulnerability or speed. Therefore as the first few rounds caught Whitney low in the belly, he started to double over in shock and pain. Then as Biberach slowly swept the gun up, the repeated impacts forced Whitney to stagger and then begin to fall backwards. The final three rounds caught him directly in the face.

Whitney was dead before his body hit the floor with a sickening thud. His head ended up tilted back at an unnatural angle since the three rounds to the face had removed most of the back of his skull with their passage.

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Shock. Lana stood there frozen by the sudden, unexpected violence of Biberach's actions. She didn't even remember her enhanced healing abilities until one of Biberach's incredibly strong henchmen grabbed her and started to drag her towards the door.

The movement finally jolted her brain back into motion and without even seeming to think about it, a digital readout started to countdown in the corner of her mind. Four minutes and forty five seconds left to save Whitney. And she couldn't necessarily count on Clark getting there in time. She knew if she didn't do something quickly, before she was manhandled from this room, it would probably be too late.

Screaming Whitney's name at the top of her lungs, she began flailing her arms and legs with all of the desperate strength she could summon, but it did no good against the man's steel grip. He continued to pull her inexorably towards the door. Finally, after a few seconds she forced her body to suddenly go limp. When the man's grip relaxed slightly, she twisted her head until she snagged his right ear with her mouth and bit down, hard.

Superhuman strength or not, having his ear almost completely bitten off got Wolfgang Hein's attention. Reflexively, he shoved Lana away, momentarily forgetting his own strength. Lana flew across the large room, a portion of his ear still trapped between her teeth. The taste of his blood in her mouth made the vampire story they had fed to Lionel Luthor pop into her head. If only she had thought to bite her own lip first, she could have transferred some of her 'bots into the man and then she might have been able to gain control of his body.

These thoughts and others flashed through her mind in the three seconds it took for her body to fly across the width of the ballroom before she crashed to a stop against the large ornate fireplace. As she hit, a blinding stab of pain shot out from her left knee before her nanobot network shut down the pain receptors in that portion of her body. Sliding down from her impact point eight feet above the floor, she came to rest in a tumbled heap; her body tangled amongst an assortment of fireplace implements.

Feeling the relentless ticking of the clock in her head, Lana didn't even consider waiting the nine seconds it would take for her body to heal. Quickly, she tore the already weakened seam on the right side of her skirt all the way up to her hip. She knew a fight was inevitable to maintain contact with Whitney until he was healed and if she was going to have a chance, she would need unrestricted movement of her legs. Then grabbing a pointed fireplace poker in each hand, she struggled up on her one good leg and started to hop in the direction of Whitney's body. As she moved, she waved the pokers about, partly to maintain her balance and partly out of raging anger.

"Nobody fucks with my boyfriend!" she yelled over and over as she made her way back across the room. As she moved, her anger towards Major Biberach, his henchmen, and Nazis in generally grew and grew until it felt like it was going to utterly consume her. However, even in her extremely agitated stated, she still had the presence of mind to activate Chloe's nanobot combat persona - giving it the simple instruction to maximize her physical contact with Whitney's body until he was healed.

In Chloe's nineteen thousand year long life, she had been in countless combat situations with weapons ranging from swords to knifes to spears to weapons long lost in antiquity to sometimes nothing but her bare hands and feet. Her enhanced body, which could predict most opponents' moves several seconds in advance based on her vast accumulated experience and immense processing power, in combination with her near instantaneous healing abilities allowed tactics that would be impossible or fatal to anyone else. All of these attributes Chloe had distilled into a fighting program directly controlled by her nanobot network since it could achieve faster reaction times than her 'real' brain. Honed to a fine temper over the last few thousand years, this combat program was one of the gifts, along with her general historical knowledge and language skills, Chloe had passed on to Lana during their first evening together after they returned from ancient Rome to Smallville.

While Lana retained control of her vocal cords to continue venting her fury, the nanobot program took control of the rest of her body. Its first action was to kick off her high-heel shoes; bare feet would double the number of appendages that could be used to maintain contact with Whitney's body. As she neared Whitney, her damaged knee was almost one hundred percent recovered, but the 'bot system estimated that since the first opponent would reach her slightly before she could reach Whitney anyway, the element of surprise would be more valuable than a short burst of speed.

Wolfgang Hein, a steady trickle of blood streaming from his mangled ear, advanced on the hobbling girl. He, too, was seething with anger. Since he had been given his great gift, he had been through countless training sessions and even several actual combat situations with the German 'advisors' in the Spanish civil war, all without the slightest injury. Now, some little teenage girl bites off most of his ear. Oh, how she was going to pay for it.

Hein came in swinging at Lana, but her nanobot system was ready. He might be way stronger than a normal man, but going up against a stronger opponent was not an unusual circumstance for Chloe or her bot' based fighting program. No, 99.73 of all her experiences had been against stronger opponents, and therefore her fighting style had much in common with judo and other related martial art styles which emphasized using the opponent's size and strength against him.

At Hein's first wild, right-handed swing, Lana's body ducked low, pivoted around her supposedly injured left leg, and then delivered a reverse roundhouse kick of her right leg to the backside of Hein's right arm while it was still in its follow through motion. The added momentum to his arm swung his whole body through ninety degrees leaving his back exposed. Immediately, Lana's fighting program brought her body around through another spin to a position behind him where she could drive both of the pokers she was carrying straight into Hein's kidneys. Even though the pokers didn't penetrate the enhanced muscles of his back, the combined blow and associated sharp pain was sufficient to drive Hein forward several feet in the direction he was facing before he briefly collapsed to his knees.

In less than three seconds their first exchange was over. Biberach stared at the scene with incredulity. In the past he had seen Hein take on and defeat ten 'normal' men without ever receiving a blow he even seemed to notice. Now, in almost a blink of an eye, this tiny girl had driven him to his knees and she had proceeded on her course to her fallen companion at a run. Where had she learned to fight like that?

Lana reached Whitney's body and rested the toes of her left foot lightly on the splayed fingers of his right hand. Instantly, her 'bot system brought the 'bots in his body online to evaluate the damage and begin the needed repairs. Her eyes scanned the room watching the one called Hein climb back to his feet and turn towards her and the other, named Frenkel, begin his own advance on her position. Finally, after four seconds, which seemed almost like a lifetime, her 'bot system report the extent of Whitney's damage. Numerous internal organs would need repair. Fourteen bones had been shattered by the careening slugs. But most serious of all was the extreme amount of damage to his brain; over forty six percent of his brain tissue had been destroyed. It was going to take thirty two additional seconds of nanobot repair activity, and therefore contact with Lana's body, for his brain to be restored.

Her two super-strong opponents would on her position within five seconds. Completely unasked for by her, the 'bot system put the odds at her being able to maintain her position against two such powerful adversaries for thirty seconds at twenty-seven to one. 'Don't quote me the odds,' she shot back at the 'bot system. Then, an unexpected giggle forced its way to the surface as she realized she had just used a quote by Han Solo in the Star Wars movies. Han Solo who was played by Harrison Ford. The Harrison Ford who also played Indiana Jones. The movie version of the real Dr. Henry Jones who was currently in this very building somewhere with Clark. The Clark who was going to have to hurry, if he was going to rescue them.

As they approached the girl, Christoph Frenkel glanced over at his compatriot, Wolfgang Hein. Hein was moving a little more cautiously than on his first charging attack, but still seemed intent on a quick, brute force approach. Frenkel was no longer quite so certain what they were up against.

Of the four men who had been granted the gift of superhuman strength, only Frenkel had been brought up in a traditional Prussian military family. While the other three were barely more than street thugs who had had the good fortune of being associated with the Nazi movement from the earliest 'Brown Shirt' days in Munich, he had trained at the same Prussian military academy in Wahlstatt, albeit a few years later, as the now legendary Manfred von Richthofen. A traditional military academy with its roots in the fencing schools of the medieval German City-States, to this day it continued to emphasize the classics like chivalry, equine skills, and swordsmanship.

Frenkel, too, had been shocked at how easily the girl had put Hein onto the ground, but he recognized bits and pieces of her fighting style. Legwork like hers was almost never seen in European fighting styles, but when he had been sixteen, a Japanese sword master had spent six months teaching at his academy as part of an exchange program. The master had taught both sword-fighting and unarmed combat. The unarmed combat made extensive use of the roundhouse style of kick the girl had used. The Japanese sword fighting style made less use of the kicking movements than the unarmed combat, but still used the legs as offensive weapons far more than any European style.

Now, looking at the girl standing next to the body of her fallen friend with her two improvised swords held straight out parallel to the floor with one pointed at each of her opponents, he would have guessed, if not for his time with the Japanese master, she was trying to modify the standard 'Langer Ort' position for use with two weapons. The 'Langer Ort' position was a common style for stabbing weapons like foils, or in this case fireplace pokers. However he recognized this position was not 'Langer Ort', but rather a simple variation of the opening position of the Japanese 'Nito Ichi Ryu' two sword fighting style used when opposed by multiple foes. He had seen the Japanese master, using wooden practice swords, take on and beat four European saber masters simultaneously. And the master had started from the same basic position as the girl was now using. A roundhouse kick and this particular fighting stance indicated the girl had trained with a Japanese master at some time in her life, which was itself very unusual given the traditional Japanese view of women's place in society.

Still, the girl was using fireplace pokers, not real swords, and without sharpened edges, they were effectively limited to thrusting motions. If they were careful, their vastly superior strength and two-to-one odds should quickly overwhelm her. Not that they were invulnerable to attack, as Hein's missing ear clearly showed. Their gift made their muscles incredibly strong and tough. However, several areas on their bodies were not covered by muscle and these locations were susceptible to a thrusting style of attack. The four of them were aware of this Achilles-like weakness, but were loath to discuss it, even among themselves. Fortunately, the eyes, ears, nose, and Adam's apple were small targets and none of them had suffered a serious injury to date. However this girl knew they could be hurt and if her martial knowledge and skills were as good as the first exchange indicated, she would certainly focus on their weaknesses.

Then the girl did something Frenkel never expected in this situation, she started to giggle. At first he thought the situation had finally gotten to her and she was becoming hysterical, but then he noticed how the fireplace pokers never wavered. Was this all some game to her? He flashed back to Captain Hoffman's warning about the man fighting Schultz and Jaeger down on the dungeon level. A man he claimed was defeating them. A man he claimed was bullet-proof. A man apparently associated with this girl. Did she too have enhanced abilities beyond what she had shown so far? It was apparent the boy lying on the floor in the pool of blood didn't, but that didn't guarantee the same thing about her. No, Frenkel decided, perhaps it was best to hang back a little and let Hein have another shot at her to give himself a little more time to observe her skills before he committed to this fight.

As Frenkel paused to watch, Hein waded in, although this time he adopted more of a boxer's stance with his arms held in relatively tight to his body. Almost instantly the girl seemed to sense she was only going to have to deal with one opponent for the moment and fluidly repositioned her weapons. When he was in range, Hein threw a short jab with his right hand at the girl's face. Or at least where her face was, thought Frenkel. She seemed to start pivoting out of the way before he even saw Hein's arm move. And before Hein's arm was fully extended, the girl landed a sharp rap on the exposed wrist with both of her pokers. Hein immediately jumped back and then took a moment to shake out his right hand.

Frenkel tried to understand what had just happened. He had been through many training sessions and several 'real world' situations. He had taken hits on his arms and hands with wooden clubs, steel pipes, and other weapons and they had hardly been painful or even noticeable. Yet the girl only delivered a couple of modest blows and now Hein's hand was obviously hurting him. How was that possible?

Hein's hand might be bothering him; it wasn't enough to prevent him from trying again. This time he rushed straight at her with his arms spread wide, going for a bear hug. For a moment the girl seemed frozen in place, then abruptly her weapons danced out a rapid pattern on the inside of Hein's left arm between the elbow and the armpit before she rolled out of his way.

As Frenkel watched, Hein's momentum carried him past the girl and the body on the floor. Before he rumbled to a stop, Hein was already bellowing in a combination of rage and pain. Frenkel was startled to the see the arm the girl had attacked dangling lifelessly at the side of Hein's body. She hadn't hit Hein very hard so how had she taken out his arm?

Hein swung back around, his eyes blazing with anger. He raised his right arm with its fingers spread as though they were going to reach out and tear the girl's heart straight from her chest. And then he charged.

At this point, the fight had lasted twelve seconds and so far Lana had been able to maintain contact with Whitney's body almost the entire time. Not that any of it had been of her own doing. This fight had been one of the most unusual and disconcerting things she had ever experienced, letting someone or something have complete control of her body. It was almost like sitting back and watching a movie, a movie that was going on all around her. Is this what virtual reality games would feel like in the future, she wondered? It did sort of feel like she was living in a video game, one where she had enhanced fighting abilities and the cheat codes for unlimited health.

However, if she thought experiencing the fight so far as an almost powerless bystander had been disconcerting, what happened next almost made her feel like she was going to throw up, which was a bizarre feeling when you had no control over your own body.

Hein came at her again, this time with one arm hanging uselessly at the side of his body and a manic gleam in his eyes. It was obvious by this time Chloe's combat program had uncovered the weaknesses of these enhanced men. And neither Chloe nor her program had Clark's self-imposed limits to not hurt anyone if it was at all possible to avoid it. No, when the opponent attacked again, but this time with most of his defenses down, Lana watched in horror as her body drove one of the pokers into Hein's right eye and then grasped his good arm and tossed him to the ground in a classic judo move.

As everyone in the room looked on, Hein hit the floor with a loud thump. His screams of rage abruptly became screams of pain as he grabbed at his ruined eye and rolled into a fetal position.

Frenkel stared at where Hein lay writhing on the floor in obvious pain. No way should that little girl, who couldn't weigh over forty five kilos, be able to do that to a tough street brawler like Hein. Hell, even without his 'gift', Hein should have made short work of the girl. But the girl had moves and fighting skills Frenkel had never seen before. At first he thought it was the result of working with a Japanese sword master like the one he had known back at the academy, but he had never witnessed anyone able to do what the girl had just done. She just seemed to hit certain spots on Hein's body to incapacitate the selected area. And she wasn't even hitting very hard.

Based on their sparring matches at the training center, Frenkel knew Hein was better at unarmed combat than he was. In eighteen matches, the record stood at Hein, sixteen and Frenkel, two. If Hein couldn't take the girl, what were his own chances? No, thought Frenkel, I don't want her taking out my eye, or worse.

Quickly, Frenkel scanned the room for a weapon and immediately his attention was caught by the display of ceremonial swords mounted on a nearby wall. Breaking into a run, it took only a couple of seconds to reach the display, shatter the protective glass, and grab a pair of the swords. They might be gaudy display pieces with fancy pearl handles and jewel encrusted hilts, but they still had real blades and sharpened edges.

Turning, Frenkel ran back towards the girl, but paused while three meters away, still out of range. He took a moment to look at her and realized how mismatched they were. Suddenly, she looked hardly older than a child with her fireplace pokers grimly held in an 'en garde' position. What was he doing, getting ready to use swords against a young girl armed only with pokers? What would his Fechtmeister say, if he could see him now? Suddenly, all of the time the Fechtmeister had spent drilling him on the importance of fighting with honor came pouring back into him. Was this the way a Prussian gentleman behaved?

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Lana watched as the second man paused in front of her. She had gotten past the shock of how viciously the 'bot system had taken out the first man and was instead thinking about how quickly it had all happened. Considering Hein had the strength of at least ten men, the 'bot system had made surprisingly short work of him. Only twenty one seconds had passed since she had first reached Whitney and she had been able to maintain contact with him for seventeen of those. She only needed fifteen more seconds to see Whitney fully healed.

Lana had never activated this fighting program before and was surprised to find it was a complete personality, not just a bunch of computer software. Suddenly, it was like having another person in her head. She almost expected the personality to be like Bruce Lee or some other martial arts wizard, but of course, it was based on Chloe.

'Chloe, is it really you?' Lana asked the Chloe-analog.

Suddenly Lana found herself sitting in her favorite booth at the Talon, the one with the best view of the Egyptian mural on the ceiling of what had once been the refreshment area of the old theater. Chloe walked up with a pot of coffee in one hand and in the other two royal blue mugs inscribed in gold with the words, 'The Talon', between two stylized figures of a Sphinx.

Chloe gave a familiar grin as she slid into the seat on the opposite side of the booth. Then the grin slipped a little and she let out a small sigh. 'Well, yes and no, it is sort of complicated. I was Chloe, at least we share the same memories of the first seventeen thousand years, but then there were the unexpected events in the arena back in Rome where you were killed and I ended up in your body.'

'You're . . . ah . . . you're Laura? I don't understand,' said Lana with an increasingly uncomfortable expression on her face.

'Lana, don't worry. This is not like last time. You can retake control of your body whenever you want. I am just here to help in situations like this. Or when you need advice or just want to chat.'

Lana nodded. Now that Chloe, no, Laura had brought it to her attention, she simply 'knew' what was necessary to resume control of her body. 'I still don't understand how you are here.'

'I . . . we . . . damn this is awkward. I hope you don't mind, but since Chloe and I were the same person for the first seventeen thousand years, I am going to refer to anything in that time period as though it happened to me. It is only after the events in Rome that Chloe and I have different perspectives and experiences.'

Laura paused to take a sip of her coffee and organize her thoughts. 'Let's start with the combat program. Over a long period of time I slowly developed my fighting skills. At first, the nanobot system just collated data from all of my experiences and offered predictions on the opponent's upcoming moves and suggested responses. Gradually, it became apparent the nanobot network with its widely distributed processing power could react faster by itself then could happen when the information had to be passed to my mind and then back to the appropriate muscles in my body. Therefore I slowly gave the 'bot system more autonomy during combat situations. However you need to be very adaptable in combat, sometimes priorities and goals may change in an instant. The program needed to guide the 'bot system in these situations steadily got more and more complex to ensure it would mimic my choices in any given situation. Eventually, the program passed some threshold and effectively became a mirror image of my mind, except it was capable of thinking, acting, and reacting at a significantly higher speed.

'When the 'bots were introduced into your body back in Rome, a copy of the 'bot based version of Chloe was automatically created. Normally this copy is inactive, but in your case the 'bots didn't turn off when Chloe broke physical contact. When your mind shutdown due to the overload of the experience, I was activated. At first I didn't even realize what had happened and thought I was the real Chloe in my own body.'

'I have heard this part before from Lex and Chloe,' said Lana. 'However Chloe never mentioned you the day back in Smallville when she did the data dump to me.'

'Well, she wanted to give you help for situations like this and it could either be a copy of the current 'bot based version of Chloe or it could be me. Since your size and musculature is somewhat different than Chloe's and I already had several weeks of experience in your body, I was the logical choice.' Laura paused to run her right index finger around the rim of her cup a couple of times before continuing in a quieter tone. 'Besides I have developed a certain fondness for you and your body and I wanted to do it.' Laura raised her eyes to Lana and concluded almost shyly. 'I hope you don't mind.'

Lana took a small sip of her own coffee before setting it back down and reaching for a couple of packets of Equal. Unlike Lana, Chloe always did prefer hers black. As she stirred her coffee she thought about this unexpected turn of events. She had expected the combat program to be just that, some software that could help her do some of Chloe's tricks like catching arrows. She never expected she would end up sharing her body with another complete person.

And for that other person to be Laura, the one who had used (or was possessed a better word?) her body for the majority of the time they had been in ancient Rome, could she deal with that? If she counted up the days since she had connected with Lex, Laura had spent almost as many with him as she had.

Laura reached across the table and lightly rested her hand on Lana's. 'Lana, I am not here to steal Lex.'

It was almost as though Laura could read her mind, Lana thought. But then she probably could, two minds in one body and all.

'Lana, that was just an educated guess,' Laura said, recognizing the expression on Lana's face. 'I am not reading your thoughts. If we are going to coexist, we will both need our privacy. I think for the present we should keep things on a verbal level or in virtual places like here.'

Slowly, Lana nodded her head. 'Okay, I guess we can give it a try. However, how about next time we pick someplace besides The Talon? I mean there must be lots of places you have been before to choose from.'

Laura squeezed Lana's hand. 'Deal. I know lots of cool places. It will be fun.'

Lana could see the relief in Laura's eyes. Perhaps they could make this work, but it was probably time to focus on the current situation. And if they were going to make this work, Lana felt she needed to be open about her feelings.

'Laura, did you have to be so brutal with that man? I mean, yeah I am really pissed at them for what they did to Whitney, but it looks like I, ah we, will be able to maintain contact with him long enough to repair the damage."

Laura looked a little chagrin as she sighed and lowered her gaze back to her coffee cup. "Sorry, old habits die hard. In the early days I was a lot like you and didn't want to use more force than necessary. But several times when I let opponents off easy, it just came back to haunt me when they returned and hurt my family and friends. Eventually, I sacrificed a little of my humanity and did what was necessary. Not that it matters, the world seems to have an endless supply of people willing to be mean, vicious, and cruel."

Lana nodded. "Yeah, but did you have to take out his eye? It so brings back memories of Venta and that dungeon."

"Sorry," said Laura. Then she looked at Lana. "So, what do you want to do about this one?"

Lana realized it was like her mind was working on two levels. She was sitting here in The Talon talking to Laura, but at the same time she was equally aware of what was going on in the real world. Although the two levels were operating on extremely different time scales; while they had been having this conversation here, only a fraction of a second had passed in the real world.

Lana shrugged. "I would rather you didn't have to kill him, but do what you must to win."

"Okay," Laura grinned. "Or I could just let him kill you. As long as your body falls on Whitney, you can still heal him. Plus, if they leave your bodies alone here while they make their escape, it gives you the freedom of movement."

Lana almost wanted to take that option. Why were her feelings for Whitney so much stronger tonight? When she was screaming at the Nazis about killing her boyfriend, she had meant it. God, suddenly her feelings for Whitney and Lex were so confused. But she could worry about those thoughts later. At the moment the real question was, who was going to need her help more in the immediate future - Whitney or Marion?

"No, don't let him kill me. I think it is more important we stick with Marion. She may need our help before this is over. If we leave Whitney here, hopefully he can connect up with Clark and Indy."

Laura stood up and gave a silly little bow. "Your wish is my command. Oh, before I focus back on the fight, one other thing. Clark said the last thing Chloe told him down in his storm cellar was that she had obtained a memory from whatever alien force was invading her body of this device you are seeking back here, a memory of the device being handed from a German officer to Dr. Jones. The question I can't get out of my mind is: whose memory was she accessing? Who was there witnessing the exchange and how did that memory end up in Clark's spaceship?"

Lana stared up at Laura. "You mean maybe someone else from Clark's home planet is going to be in the Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremony?"

"I don't know," answered Laura honestly. "But if you take the device straight back to our present, how else does a memory of the event end up in Clark's ship?"

As Lana tried to sort through the implications of what Laura had said, Laura shimmered and vanished from the virtual version of The Talon as she turned her full attention back on the confrontation in the ballroom.

----------------------------------

Laura stared out of Lana's body at this latest threat. This man had all of the astonishing strength of the previous opponent, but this one was armed with a pair of swords. And from the way he held them and the old dueling scar on his right cheek, it was apparent this was not his first experience using them. It would certainly make for a more interesting encounter. She was tempted to egg him on to see if he would make some rash move, but forced herself to remember the main goal was maintaining physical contact with Whitney until he was restored. If the guy facing her wanted to just stare at her for the next fifteen seconds, it would be okay with her. Once Whitney was safe and she was free to move around, the fight would be greatly simplified.

Suddenly, and totally unexpectedly, the man, whose name she remembered was Frenkel, tossed his left hand sword to her. Immediately, Laura dropped her right hand poker and snatched the sword hilt out of the air.

Looking at him, Laura quirked an eyebrow as though to ask 'why?'

Frenkel raised his sword blade up in front of his face in salute. "We have not been formally introduced. I am Christoph Frenkel. Two swords against fireplace pokers hardly seems like a fair fight and I am not some street thug," and here his eyes glanced briefly to where Hein still lay curled up on the floor. "If we are going to do this, there are certain forms to be followed."

Laura gave a brief nod and raised her own sword in salute before lowering it to an en garde position.

"One quick question before we begin," said Frenkel. "How did you incapacitate Hein? I have never seen a fighting style like that."

Laura grinned as the remaining seconds until Whitney would be recovered steadily rolled towards zero. "It is called 'Dim Mak' which roughly translates from Chinese as 'Death Touch'. The human body has numerous pressure points. It doesn't matter how strong you are, touching these points in the right sequence will cause pain, local paralysis, or death, as the practitioner chooses." Keeping in the vein of Lana's earlier comments, Laura continued. "I learned this from the originator of the 'Tai Chi' philosophy almost twenty five hundred years ago in a small village in western China." A slightly more believable lie than the truth that it was developed by the warrior-priests of Lemuria 12300 years earlier at a time when she had been known as the Goddess Fah.

Frenkel stared at the girl, barely comprehending. He had heard of pressure points and the ancient Chinese art of acupuncture, but being able to disable or kill by just touching a few points on the body would have been impossible to believe if he hadn't personally seen what she had done to Hein. And what about her claim of having learned the technique twenty five hundred years ago? Or the earlier comment about having been in ancient Rome. Could they be true? Five years earlier he would have laughed at the suggestion. But he had since been privy to the tales of the order's encounters with the Grail Cup, the Ark of the Covenant, and, of course, his own gift. Strange, unimaginable forces existed in the world. Who was to say if this young-looking girl was part of them?

In the end, it didn't matter, Frenkel knew his duty. The girl had just cause to be angry at what Major Biberach had done to her friend, but he had his orders. With a nod of acknowledgement for the answer to his question, Frenkel raised his sword.

Quickly, Frenkel opened with a classic 'Foyne' thrust to her body. Based on his superior strength, he expected her to respond with a standard Versatzung type of defense since it emphasized deflection and evasion, a method general recommended when going up against a larger opponent. Therefore he was stunned when she stood her ground and responded with a Meisterhau move.

They had studied the Meisterhau in fencing school and his Fechtmeister had demonstrated it in slow motion, but neither the Fechtmeister nor any of the students had ever been able to successfully implement it in a real sparring match. It was first described by the seventeenth century grand master Leichtenauer as one of the four 'master cuts' which needed to be mastered to be considered a world class swordsman. The stroke required a rapid forward thrust which deflected the opponent's blade using the portion of the blade nearest to the hilt while the tip of the blade simultaneously hit the opponent's body. The natural instinct to block the opponent's thrust further out using the central portion of the blade had to be overcome for the Meisterhau to be mastered. And it was highly dangerous to attempt, as the slightest miscalculation left you impaled on your opponent's blade.

The girl was incredibly fast. He had seen it from a distance during her exchanges with Hein. But when that speed was used directly against him, it was down right scary. His initial thrust was hardly halfway extended when her counterattack arrived. One quick lunge, which couldn't have deflected his sword more than one inch beyond what was necessary to prevent it from hitting her, and she was inside his guard. The tip of her sword scored a hit on his left cheek, and in one fluid motion she withdrew.

As Frenkel reflexively jerked back, he heard the girl say, "There. Much better, I have always liked symmetry and balance. Once the new scar has healed, you will be much more handsome, Christoph."

Frenkel couldn't help but reach up and touch the wound. It was a perfect mirror image of the scar that had adorned his right cheek for the seventeen years since he had fought for the academy championship during his senior year. A bout he had gone on to win despite his injury.

He was a much better swordsman than he was an unarmed brawler. He had seen how girl's fighting skills were so good they had completely neutralized Hein's enormous strength advantage. He had hoped his fencing abilities in combination with his great strength would be enough to take her, but after one pass he knew she was way out of his league. Even though he didn't know any move that would counter it, he had at least recognized the move she had used during their first exchange as being from the traditional, old school German style. But what other moves did she have in her repertoire? Did she know some sword fighting techniques equivalent to the 'Dim Mak' style she had used so successfully on Hein?

Frankly, Frenkel was almost relieved when Major Biberach interrupted.

"Miss Lang, you will drop your sword and surrender now, or I will kill Mrs. Jones."

Both Laura and Frenkel turned to see Biberach holding his Luger to the side of Marion's head. Laura almost started to laugh at the way he had to tilt his arm up to reach the temple of the much taller woman. Or perhaps the sudden need to laugh was simply due to knowing the repairs to Whitney's body were finally complete.

Trying to maintain a look of grim determination on her face, Laura made a big show of tossing her sword back to Frenkel. It would be at least several seconds before he would force her to move away from Whitney's body, plenty of time for her and Lana to brief Whitney on the current situation. The only big question was where should they hold the conversation since Lana said she would like to experience a different venue besides The Talon? Hmm . . .

---------------

Whitney felt himself coming awake from a refreshing nap. Slowly, he opened his eyes and then rose up on one elbow to take in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the white dress shirt, lightweight off-white linen pants, and tan Indian-style moccasins he was wearing. Next was the large red blanket he was stretched out on. And then Chloe and Lana, both also dressed in white blouses and off-white skirts, sitting on the opposite side of the blanket beside a large wooden picnic basket which they were busily unpacking as they chatted quietly. Something about the situation didn't seem right, but for the moment he couldn't put his finger on it.

Sitting the rest of the way up attracted the girls' attention. "Hi, Lana, Chloe."

Big smiles grew on both their faces on seeing Whitney was finally awake.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lana with just a hint of concern in her voice.

"Great," began Whitney before her tone and the expressions on the girls' faces sank in. "Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

"Whitney, what's the last thing you remember?" asked Chloe.

It only took a moment and then Whitney's memories came flooding back and the words came out in a rush. "Lana, Marion Jones, and I were in the back of a van in Nazi Germany just outside of Berlin. The van had just stopped and we were ordered out. Then abruptly my memories just stop."

What was going on, wondered Whitney. It had been the middle of the night and now they were sitting outside in broad daylight. Finally becoming aware that there was a gap in his memory, he looked around with interest. Their blanket was spread out on a small hilly rise overlooking a wide, slow moving river with an inviting sandy beach near their present location. The far bank of the river looked to be almost half a mile away with a similar beach giving way to several miles of lush grassland before a range of green hills filled the horizon.

Glancing behind him to see what lay on this side of the river, Whitney got the shock of his life. They were sitting almost in the shadow of a giant stone sphinx. No, not a sphinx, but The Sphinx. But there was something subtly wrong. At first he thought it was the green grassland around the Sphinx rather than the barren desert he had always seen in photos, but then he realized it was the shape of the head of the Sphinx which was different. Instead of the badly worn Pharaoh's face with its surrounding Royal Egyptian head-dress, the Sphinx now possessed a pristine copy of Chloe's face surrounded by a lion's mane.

Looking back at the girls, Whitney asked. "Where are we? And Chloe, how did you get here? I thought you were back in Smallville, hurt and unconscious."

Chloe smiled. "Where we are is the easiest part." Gesturing to the expanse of water, she continued. "That's the Nile and this will one day be Egypt. At the moment this is a remote corner of the Empire of Lemuria."

"What do you mean one day? Have we traveled through time again?"

"No," said Chloe shaking her head. "This is all just a virtual recreation of what this spot looked like in the year 10256 B.C. While we were in Rome I promised Lana we would use the time machine to visit here someday. For the moment, this recreation is the best I can do."

Whitney didn't understand what Chloe was saying. He could feel the sun beating down on his body. He could feel the breeze rustling his hair. He could smell the nearby river.

Lana could see the perplexed expression on Whitney's face. "Whitney, remember when we saw 'The Matrix' two years ago?" He nodded. "Remember how the world Neo thought was real was just a giant, shared computer simulation and in reality Neo was a captive in that pod-thingy? Well, this is a more or less the same thing. Nanobots are located at every synapse in your brain. They can allow your natural electrical impulses to operate unhindered or they came block the signals and substitute their own. The 'bot network has sufficient processing power to fire your synapses in such a way as to make this virtual world seem perfectly real."

Whitney remembered the movie but had always assumed that if it was possible at all, it would take a massive computer which would fill buildings upon buildings. "You're saying the 'bots in our bodies can do all this?"

"Whitney, you have to understand the 'bots are down in the atomic range, size-wise. That means there are several quadrillion 'bots and therefore processor nodes in our bodies. Quadrillions of nodes arranged in a three dimensional array results in an almost unimaginably powerful computer system."

He slowly nodded. He didn't understand all the details, but it must be true because this place seemed just as real as anywhere they had been in Berlin or even anywhere back in Smallville.

"Okay, I guess I have no choice but to accept it. But you still haven't explained how you got here, Chloe."

"Hmm, that's going to take a little longer to explain. Would you like a ham sandwich and some lemonade while we talk?"

He nodded and then sat back to enjoy the food and the view while Laura explained who she was and how she came to be there.

----------

Whitney shuddered as though someone had walked on his grave. He never understood what the expression meant, but suddenly it felt like he did.

"Let me get this straight. It is really about ten minutes after the last thing I can remember and in that ten minutes some German Major . . ."

Lana interrupted with, "His name is Biberach. I thought you might want to know."

"Okay, this Major Biberach decides to empty his machine gun into my body. So I am currently lying on the floor in the ballroom dead."

"Hardly," grinned Laura. "Or we wouldn't be having this conversation. You were dead, but the nanobots have now finished repairing your body."

"So if I am recovered, why can't I remember anything after the van?"

"Because," began Lana before she hesitated unable to say the words.

"Because," completed Laura, "the last three rounds destroyed most of your brain. Too much was lost and the only option was to restore your memories from the backup copy in the 'bot network. Unfortunately, your 'bots were inert at the time you were shot and the last time they were active was when Lana was touching you in the van."

Even in this virtual simulation, Whitney seemed to turn a little pale. "If I hadn't already had the 'bots in my body from the tornado back in Smallville . . ."

"We could have restored your body, but most of your memories would have been gone forever," answered Laura.

That certainly explained the 'walking on his grave' feeling decided Whitney. He had been operating on borrowed time ever since his first death as a result of the tornado. Was he on double-secret borrowed time now?

"Is there some reason this Nazi shot me, or was it just for fun?"

"He had just got found out Clark was down in the dungeon rescuing Indy and in the process Clark had not only defeated two of these superstrong Germans, but also demonstrated he is invulnerable to machine gun bullets." answered Lana, finally able to talk again now that the conversation had gotten past how near they had been to losing Whitney. What if he didn't already have a set of 'bots? Indy and Marion didn't have 'bots, what if they met a similar fate to Whitney? Right then Lana decided she would introduce a set of 'bots into them at the earliest opportunity, just in case. They still needed Indy alive to receive the alien artifact at the opening ceremonies. And she had come to like Marion and would hate to see anything happen to her.

"What exactly does 'invulnerable to machine gun bullets' mean?" asked Whitney.

"The German Captain who witnessed it said the bullets just bounced off him," began Laura. "And Clark had told me the same thing back in Rome."

'Wow,' thought Whitney. 'It must be nice in a situation like this to be super-strong, super-fast, and impervious to bullets. I wonder why Clark allowed us to make him the scarecrow back at homecoming?'

"Anyway," said Lana. "Major Biberach decided to retreat before Clark came looking for us. Apparently, he still wants something from Indy and intends to hold onto Marion as a hostage. And I guess me, too. But you were expendable. Or maybe he was just checking to see if you were invulnerable like Clark."

"I wish," mumbled Whitney. Then speaking up, he continued. "So what's the plan?"

Lana took a deep breathe. "Well, since you are healed now and since Clark hasn't shown up yet; I'm afraid I am going to have to go with Marion and Germans to try and keep her safe."

"And what about me?" asked Whitney.

"The Germans think you are dead. I think you are going to have to play dead until they are gone. If you miraculously come back to life, who knows what they might do. And if they kill you again, we might not get lucky a second time in reviving you. Besides you need to let Clark and Indy know what happened to us and where they are taking us."

Whitney nodded; he had no desire to be killed twice within a five minute span. "Where are they taking you?"

Lana shook her head. "I don't know for certain. Biberach made a comment about taking us to Hitler, but I have no idea where he is at the moment. I would assume though that it is somewhere very secure."

Laura rose to her feet and unconsciously brushed off her skirt. "Well, I think that about covers it. Anyone else up for a swim? I promise this Nile is crocodile-free."

Whitney looked up at her. "I thought the Germans were about to drag you out of here."

Laura's face went blank for a moment as though her attention was focused elsewhere. Then she responded. "Time runs faster here than in the 'real' world. We have plenty of time for a relaxing, refreshing swim."

Whitney glanced down at his attire. "Ahh, I don't see any swimming suits."

For Lana this comment brought back memories of their first day back in ancient Rome, before they even understood they had been stranded there by a time machine, another afternoon where the lack of swimsuits had also been a topic for discussion. It was almost hard for her to believe that from her perspective those events had happened barely three weeks earlier. God, how her life had changed since then. Was she even the same girl who had so shyly gone into that pond wearing her bra and panties as a substitute for a swimsuit?

Laura grinned. "It's just us here, no one else to see if we go skinny-dipping. Or is the thought of seeing me naked that revolting?"

Whitney hadn't even been thinking about Laura, who looked exactly like Chloe. No, he had been thinking about Lana. She had made it clear since they had been back here in 1936 that her affections were all focused on Lex. How could he, just barely graduated from Smallville High, ever compete against one of the richest men in the world? Particularly knowing that when they got home he would have to leave immediately for the Marines? It would be at least six months before he could return to Smallville, how could he ever expect Lana to wait for him now, when she had already said she loved Lex?

Laura had expected some response, but saw the way Whitney was staring at Lana with a melancholy expression on his face. Lana had Lex. Chloe had Clark. But where did that leave her? Whitney was tall, handsome, and looking a little down. She didn't see why she couldn't have a little fun with Whitney while they were here.

"Hey!" exclaimed Laura while stamping her foot to get Whitney's attention. "So you prefer brunettes to blondes, do you?"

With Whitney's and Lana's attentions focused on her, she made a show of turning her back to them. Then she leaned forward from the waist and snapped her head forward out of sight. A split second later she flung her head back and now long brunette hair hung down to the middle of her back. Slowly she turned back around and the others discovered not only her hair had changed, but also her face and body. Suddenly, Laura and Lana were identical twins.

Laura moved over beside Lana and knelt back down. When she started speaking, her voice too was just like Lana's. "If you prefer this look, well that's okay with me. Or would you like something a little hotter?"

Laura turned to Lana, reached out her right hand, and used her index finger to slowly turn Lana's face towards her. Then she leaned over and gave Lana a short, soft kiss on the lips.

"Eww, Laura that was gross," said Lana a little more forcefully than she was actually feeling. "I thought those lesbian stories you told back in Rome were just some game you were playing for Lex and Clark."

Laura grinned at Lana, who suddenly felt almost like she was staring into a mirror. Very disconcerting.

"Seventeen thousand years is a long time. No matter how straight you think you are, eventually you will try everything. I mean I find maybe one in ten guys attractive, but only one in ten thousand girls. For most people, they will never meet that one in ten thousand at the right time and place. But if you live forever, eventually it will happen." Pausing, Laura leaned over to Lana's ear and whispered, "You are one in ten thousand, maybe even one in million." Laura took a moment to nibble on Lana's earlobe before whispering a final, "Soon."

Straightening up, Laura turned back towards Whitney. "I guess Lana isn't quite ready for the identical twin make-out fantasy. Too bad, I'm sure you would have enjoyed watching as much as I would have enjoyed participating. Oh well, I will just have to keep working on her."

Laura stood up and moved over next to Whitney. Sitting down, she made her voice very slow and breathy like when Lana had been under the influence of the Necrodemis plant. "Whitney, may I kiss you?" And then, not waiting for any response, Laura leaned in for a kiss.

Laura intended to keep the kiss light and short, but Whitney's response was stronger than she expected. In his head Whitney knew this was not Lana, but all the physical cues were there: Lana's fragrance, Lana's taste, even the way her hair floated over his face. Without thinking Whitney's body reacted as it always did when Lana kissed him. His right hand reached up and caressed the back of her neck for a few seconds before his fingers slid up into her hair and pulled her tight. His left hand reached around her back and then slowly slid down until it was cupping one cheek.

After a few seconds Whitney found he had gone without noticing from a sitting position to lying flat on his back with Laura sprawled half on top of him. And for the first time in days he found himself relaxed and almost happy. Four days earlier, he had been happy. He had finally graduated from high school and had his escape from Smallville, via the Marines, all worked out. In two years, when Lana would also graduate, he would be well established in his career and she could join him. Then his whole world had come crashing apart. The tornado where he should have died, but didn't. Finding out Lana was in love with Lex Luthor and suddenly she had all of these near superhuman abilities. Finding out Clark was an alien. Finding out Chloe was nearly 20,000 years old and had a time machine. Finding he was suddenly in Nazi Germany competing in the Olympics. And now, finding out he had just 'died' for the second time.

All in all, the last few days had been overwhelming. It wasn't an issue of Laura versus Lana so much as just a simple need for someone to put their arms around him and hold him for awhile.

Laura, too, was enjoying the physical contact as she pulled away from Whitney's mouth and made a small trail of wet kisses across his cheek, down one side of his throat, and then back up the other side until she returned to his lips. When she and Chloe had been one, she had finally been so happy connecting with Clark. Then to wake up in the arena and find herself trapped in Lana's body while the other 'real' Chloe was with Clark. Ultimately, she had sacrificed her existence in the real world to allow Lana to have her body back and ever since she had been stuck in this limbo existence. Oh, she could relive any experience from her long and varied life or spend her time creating and experiencing new virtual worlds, but it all came from her own mind and wasn't as satisfying as interacting with other people.

So in the end both Whitney and Laura needed the closeness they were sharing and it had very little to do with sex or teenage hormones, as it might appear to any outside observer. And in this case, Lana was the outside observer. She had only known Laura for a few short minutes and hadn't seen through Laura's thousand year thick protective shell to realize how lonely she really was. Nor had she realized how deeply her confession of her love for Lex had hurt Whitney.

No, all Lana saw was the man she had been with through most of her teenage years suddenly making out with her best girlfriend, who was herself masquerading as Lana.

Therefore suddenly a new female voice rang out, a voice immediately familiar to Whitney. "Whitney Fordman! What the hell do you think you are doing?"

Whitney's head jerked back from Laura's as though her lips had suddenly turned to liquid fire. When Laura tried to meet his gaze, she saw him staring past her shoulder in shock. Turning, Laura too looked back. She found herself staring at a woman she didn't recognize, an attractive blonde of about forty with a hint of fire in her eyes.

Finally, Whitney found his voice. "Low blow, Lana. Playing the 'Mom' card."

"Very impressive," said Laura. "Only a few minutes of experience and you have already mastered the ability to control your appearance here at will."

Then Laura slowly shook her head. "But I think you are overreacting. You have said you love Lex. If that's true, you need to let Whitney go. Clark is with the other Chloe. I have had to accept it and I didn't even fall out of love with him like you did with Whitney. You have no idea how badly I wanted to get back together with Clark back in Rome when I was in control of your body. It hurt and hurt and hurt, but I knew if I acted on my desires, it would probably destroy things between you and Lex in the long run. Now it is time for you to suck it up and make a decision. Is it going to be Lex or Whitney? If Lex, then don't stand in Whitney's way."

The blonde woman cast her eyes down to the ground and as Laura and Whitney watched, she appeared to shimmer for a second and then abruptly her appearance switched back to Lana.

When Lana raised her eyes, two long streams of tears were running down her face. As she took a small hesitant step forward, she mumbled, "I am so sorry."

Laura quickly stepped forward and pulled Lana into a hug. For several minutes the identical, raven haired girls stood there and slowly rocked.

Eventually the tears stopped and Lana pulled her head back a little so she could look into Laura's eyes. "I'm sorry. I did really overreact, but seeing you looking like me and you kissing Whitney, it just freaked me out."

Laura smiled. "It's okay. It has been tense few minutes. Hell, it has been a tense few days since the tornado, with Lex and Chloe hurt and all. Maybe what we need is something relaxing and distracting to keep our minds occupied for a few minutes. And I think I know just the thing. Can you Fox Trot?"

"Fox Trot?" repeated Lana not understanding what Laura was talking about.

"You know ballroom dancing. The Fox Trot."

Lana shook her head.

Laura released her hold on Lana, stepped back, and folded her arms in front of her. "That's okay, let Jeannie take care of everything."

Laura blurred for a second and then she took on the appearance of Barbara Eden from the 'I Dream of Jeannie' TV show, except her harem girl outfit was way racier than anything that could have been shown on network TV back in the 60's or even in the twenty first century for that matter.

Then in Jeannie's voice she said, "First we need some appropriate music." She did a slow blink of her eyes, which was even accompanied by the old, familiar sound effect, and instantly the entire plain on which they were standing was filled with an instrumental version of Frank Sinatra's 'Fly Me to the Moon'.

"And some appropriate clothes," she continued with another slow blink. Immediately, Whitney was clad in an elegant white shirt, white bowtie, and black tuxedo. Looking down, Lana found she was also formally attired in a floor-length, dark green strapless dress with a long slit up the right side almost to her hip to allow easy movement on the dance floor. The ensemble was completed by a diamond and emerald necklace and matching earrings, which in the 'real' world would have cost well into the millions.

Laura grinned for a moment at how beautiful Lana looked, before she got back into character. "And finally, a dance partner for Lana." After a third slow blink, Lex appeared two steps in front of Lana wearing a tux which matched Whitney's.

Lana looked at Lex almost in shock. She had missed him so much in the four days they had been parted. And he stood there in front of her looking so handsome, his auburn hair grown out a little longer than the buzz cut look she had last seen.

"Lex?"

But Lex didn't answer; instead it was Laura, now herself looking like Lana again and decked out in a complementary ruby red dress, who responded. "Sorry, I couldn't deliver the real thing, but I hope this dance partner will do."

Lex turned his right hand palm up at waist height, raised his left hand to shoulder height, and with a lift of his eyebrow invited Lana to dance.

Quickly Lana flowed into his arms, stepping a lot closer than was normal for the fox trot. It was obvious Laura wasn't allowing this simulation of Lex to speak to remind Lana he was only a simulation, but as Lana briefly rested the side of her face against his chest she realized Laura had gotten the rest of Lex's physical attributes just about perfect, particularly the combination of Lex's personal scent and the custom designed cologne he always wore. As Lex's body started to lead her perfectly through the dance steps, Lana felt happier and more at peace than at anytime since she had heard of Lex's scarily serious injury.

After watching Lex and Lana dance for a few seconds, Laura turned her attention to Whitney. Speaking in a formal tone, Laura asked, "I know it is forward of me, but may I have this dance?"

Whitney pulled his eyes away from where Lana and Lex were dancing in an impossibly complicated style like something from an old movie of the nineteen thirties or forties and turned his attention to the 'other' Lana standing in front of him. "Laura, I'm afraid I can't possibly dance like that," he answered with a shake of his head.

"Oh, I think you will be pleasantly surprised."

Whitney paused for a moment and then cautiously raised his hands to the position he had seen Lex use. Without hesitation, Laura step into his arms and almost without his volition his hands found the correct position and his body started to move with the music. Within seconds they were spinning and twirling and Whitney's body seemed to know just the right move when it was needed. The only other time his body felt so in tune with his surroundings was out on the football field when they implemented a well-rehearsed play.

The dancing went on for minutes and the music segued to a quick step version of Nat King Cole's 'Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer'. When music turned to a ballad version of Doris Day's 'Every Body Loves a Lover', Whitney felt like he was dancing on a cloud like Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. Glancing down, it seemed perfectly natural that he and Laura were really dancing on a cloud. Looking off into the distance, he could see the Sphinx crouched down, staring impassively into the distance, hundreds of feet below their current height. He knew he should be scared at this great height, but instead he felt unbelievably safe floating in Laura's arms.

As the third song came to an end, Whitney pulled Laura close, and carefully tilting her head back, drew her into a deep, impassioned kiss. When they finally broke apart, Whitney whispered, "I don't want this moment to ever end."

Laura returned his kiss for nearly a minute before answering. "Me either, but I am afraid it is going to have to end right now, as I am about to be dragged away by one of the Nazis. Remember to play dead until we are gone. I am so looking forward to continuing this when we are all reunited."

Then with one quick peck on the lips, Laura blurred and disappeared. At virtually the same instant, the clouds, the Nile, and the Sphinx also disappeared and Whitney found himself back in his own body. The abrupt transition almost made him gasp out loud before he remembered he had to play dead.

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Christoph Frenkel grabbed Lana's arm and pulled her unresisting body towards the door. For a moment, Laura, who was still in control of the body she shared with Lana, remained lost in the recently ended dance with Whitney. It was only after she was moving that the return to the 'real' world fully sank in.

Focusing, she realized Hein was back on his feet and making his way towards the door. He had one hand clasped tightly to his destroyed eye and his remaining eye was staring 'bloody murder' at her. He was definitely going to be a problem in the future, she knew.

Major Biberach was still holding his Luger to Marion's head, as though he still expected trouble. Carefully, he backed towards the door.

The three Nazis and their two female hostages all met up at the door leading from the ballroom into the grand entrance hall. As they passed through the doorway, Laura turned for one last look at Whitney. He was still lying in the same position as before, but, she noticed, he wasn't quite able to stop a small smile from gracing his lips.

End of Chapter Nine

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Author's Notes

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It seemed like the past few chapters have been nonstop action and violence, so I thought the little 'virtual reality' interlude made a nice change and allowed for a little more character development before we get back to the action with Clark and Indy. Plus it was a good spot to set the groundwork for some things to come.

Deanna – I am afraid Chloe is going to be out of the story for awhile. Was the return of Laura close enough? Since the TV show has given Lana the as yet unexplained tattoo, I thought the return of Laura would be fun. Two minds in one body seems to present some interesting possibilities.

Hemish – I hope the length of this chapter was more to your liking!

Shall-iin – You need to have faith and a little (well, maybe a lot) of patience. Clark is only 16 in this story, so it is at least 7-8 years until he meets the 'canon' Lois (I really enjoy the new Lois in the TV show, but they are hardly sticking to 'canon' either.) I have some thoughts how this story, maybe a couple hundred thousand words in the future, will evolve into a story with a 'canon' Lois. Sometimes I like to write myself into a corner for the challenge of coming up with an internally consistent solution.

Rebel Goddess and Angel of Imladris– The 'real' Henry Jones does look a lot like Tom Selleck. George Lucas even tried to get Tom to play Indy, but he was under contract to do Magnum at the time. I have seen a version of the Raiders of the Lost Ark Poster with Tom in place of Harrison floating around the internet. I do agree that for the movies, Harrison works better. I think it comes down to his size. At 5'10" he looked like such the underdog particularly during the fight with the bald guy under the flying wing airplane. The fight wouldn't have worked nearly as well with 6'4" Selleck towering over his opponent.

Next up – Clark and Indy in action together. I have something very spectacular in mind. Unless of course, as usual I ramble on too long and it takes me a couple of chapters to get there!

Until next time,

Duane