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'.

21. Biological Families Chapter 21

1/22/07

Biological Families

Chapter 21

Sliviuh stepped out of the Portal.

As she glanced around the alley where the portal had dumped her, she started a new ten minute countdown timer in her 'bot computer system. Via memories stolen from Laura, who in turn had received the information from Chloe, Sliviuh knew the Portal device was pre-set for a ten minute interval before opening in this time period again. So, whether Clark remained in 1936 for thirty seconds longer than her or thirty days longer, when he tried to move forward in time the portal would open ten minutes after hers to prevent accidental 'two objects in one place' conundrums. Therefore she had ten minutes to get clear before risking encountering Clark with all of his extraordinary abilities; something she wasn't yet prepared to do. Although it might be something she was going to have to face sooner than she would like.

Without even looking down, she knew the first thing she had to do was acquire some alternate clothing. Her white sailor's blouse was soaked with blood and, annoyingly, most of it was hers. If she walked out to the busy street she could see at the entrance to the alley, she would at a minimum cause a scene and at worst end up having to deal with either paramedics or cops. And at the moment she had more important things to attend to.

Scanning the area she spotted a half open dumpster. 'Dumpster Diving' – what an auspicious way to return to power, she thought. But as the timer in her head continued to tick down, she sprinted the twenty yards while simultaneously stripping off her top. Reaching the dumpster she paused to use a clean corner of the white blouse to scrub at the blood staining her throat and face before dropping her blood sodden garment. Hopefully the blood congealing in her hair would be less obvious than it would have been in her original body's blonde hair. Then throwing open the lid of the dumpster she vaulted over the side; this was no time to be squeamish. Tossing useless trash over the side onto the pavement, she feverishly dug. After eight precious seconds she found an old discarded black tee shirt. It was at least four sizes too big, had a large tear under one arm, and was emblazoned in white lettering with 'Sex Instructor . . . First Lesson Free!'. It certainly wouldn't be her first choice, at least not today, but 'beggars can't be choosers'.

She gathered her prize, climbed back out of the dumpster and then slipped the tee shirt on. It hung half way to her knees, which wasn't a bad thing as it helped hide some of the blood which was also staining her white dungarees.

Sliviuh was just about to make her escape from the alley when the blood-soaked sailor's blouse caught her attention. Quickly she knelt down, rubbed her right index finger in the dampest location, and then used the blood to scrawl a message on the side of the dumpster.

When she was finished an evil little grin briefly graced her face as she paused for a moment to stare at what she had written. Menacing, yet vague, it had just the right zing to be a nice little opening round salvo in the psychological war she planned to wage against Clark.

After retrieving the communication device from where she had set it on the ground and then standing back up, Sliviuh turned and sprinted to the mouth of the alley just over thirty yards away. The important thing, now, was to get clear of the alley and figure out exactly where she was.

Slowing to a brisk walk as she reached the street, she turned right leaving the alley with nine minutes eight seconds remaining before Clark should make his appearance. Sliviuh found herself on an old residential street lined with four to six story buildings. Knowing the target destination had been New York, from the architectural style she was most likely somewhere on the lower east side of Manhattan. About two blocks ahead she could see a park on the opposite side of the street. Crossing the street she saw a sign telling her she was on East 7th Street, so the park ahead had to be Tompkins Square. It had been decades since the original Chloe had been in this park, but Sliviuh knew if she cut across it she would come out on East 10th. There should be sufficient cover along that edge of the park for her to safely wait for a ride with minimal risk of Clark finding her.

The timer in her head ticked down to six minutes twenty seven seconds as she entered the park and lifted the communication device to her ear.

After pressing the cell phone button, she said. "Dial two one two seven seven six four zero six three."

After two rings the call was answered by a male voice with a hint of a British accent. "Belmont Towers. How may I help you?"

"Charles," Sliviuh began in a voice that wasn't quite Chloe's. She paused to cough loudly a couple of times to buy her a few seconds before trying again. Lana's vocal cords were sufficiently different from her own to throw off her skills at mimicking voices. Although mimicking her own voice should be the easiest of all.

"Sorry, about that Charles," she began again feeling she was a lot closer this time. "This is Denise Webber." Denise Webber was one of the more recent names Chloe had used during the second time she had lived through the past two thousand years after being stranded in ancient Rome by the Portal machine. This name and contact information was part of the long list of her former names plus locations of emergency caches of funds down through history that Chloe had passed on to Lana in case she should ever again find herself stranded in time. It was very generous of Chloe to help her in this way, thought Sliviuh, even if Chloe had never meant for her to be the recipient.

"Ms. Webber, it has been a long time," responded Charles, the concierge at the extremely exclusive residence where only three of the forty seven units had exchanged hands in the past eighty years. If one place defined 'old money', it was Belmont Towers.

"Yes, it certainly has," answered Sliviuh as she skirted passed the dog run area of the park. "Unfortunately, it is still going to be awhile longer until I see you in person. I am in Firenze at the moment."

"Ah, it has been way too long since I have had time to visit Italy," said Charles, conversationally. Then after the briefest of pauses to let her respond if she desired to carry on with the small talk, he continued in a more business like tone, "Well, Ms. Webber, how can I be of service today?"

"I just received a most hysterical call from an old friend's daughter. She has been mugged in Tompkins Square Park. They got all of her belongings except her cell phone. They got her ID and her hotel information so now she is afraid to return there. I am the only one she knows in the city so she called me. Since I am out of town, I am turning to you. Can you send a car to fetch her and let her stay in my apartment for a few days? I would much appreciate it."

Sliviuh suspected he would respond in the positive. From the information she had gleaned from the data package Chloe had left in Lana's 'bot memory system, she knew Charles was one of Chloe's special 'problem solvers'. Like Rogerus back in ancient Rome, Charles was one of those individuals she had come to trust to discreetly take care of delicate situations with a minimum of fuss or supervision. And compared to some of the requests Sliviuh guessed he had been asked to handle in the past, this was downright pedestrian.

"Of course, Ms. Webber. Where exactly shall I send Wayne and how will he recognize the girl?"

"She will be on the East 10th Street side of the park. She is about five foot four with long dark hair and looks about sixteen. She is wearing a long, battered black tee shirt that says something about sex instructor on the front. Oh, and her name is Laura, ah, Laura Lee."

"Very good, Ms. Webber. Wayne will be at the park in twenty minutes to pick her up and then I will see that she is well taken care of."

"Thanks, Charles. I won't forget this," answered Sliviuh before breaking the connection.

As she continued to hike across the park, Sliviuh tried to figure out how best to proceed, once she was ensconced in Chloe's old apartment here in Manhattan. She had two days before the events in the storm cellar. As long as she didn't tap too heavily into any on-line finances of the Denise Webber personae, she shouldn't trigger any alarms which would reach Chloe's attention before then. Finances shouldn't be any problem even without tapping the Denise Webber accounts, as there were several nice fat emergency caches of gold and jewels right here in Manhattan, which Chloe wouldn't miss for years, if ever. And if Clark did find some way of saving Chloe after the events in the storm cellar and Chloe started searching for activity involving any of her old aliases, well, she would be long gone from Manhattan by then, one way or another. Although hopefully Chloe would never have the opportunity to search for her, because with luck – no with skill, hard work, and determination - she should have repossessed her old body before then.

Sliviuh was just cutting through a thick grove of trees when she was abruptly accosted by two large men.

"Hey, sweet thang," drawled the leader of the pair with a slur to his voice indicating he had already been heavily into drugs or booze. And by the clock Sliviuh had seen, it was only ten in the morning.

Pointing at her tee shirt, he continued. "How'sa bout that free lesson you are offering?"

After glancing down briefly at her tee shirt as though this was the first time she had noticed what she wearing, she tilted her head back up and looked at the man. If either man had been half-way sober, they would have broke and run in fear after just one look at the evil glimmer in the girl's eye. But neither of them was that sober, and they simply thought they had gotten lucky when she responded with a simple – 'Sounds like fun, I have a few minutes to kill before my ride gets here. So, lead the way.'

As the two men, who couldn't have been much over nineteen or twenty, shared a quick high five, Sliviuh ran an appreciative eye over the hard bodies of what would hopefully be the first of many recruits into her new 21st Century army.

- + - + - + - + - +

Sliviuh lounged against one of the many elm trees along the East 10th Street edge of the park keeping an eye out for the limo which was coming to pick her up. She was in an excellent mood; assimilating someone's mind was almost as good as fucking them. But the best was when you got to do both at once like now.

As soon as she had finished using them for her pleasure, she had sent them scurrying off to the alley where she had arrived. Clark would probably have come and gone, but it didn't cost her anything to use the two men in this way. They had been instructed to stake out the alley for an hour. Then if they didn't encounter Clark, whose image she had downloaded into their minds, they were to head over to Doctor Swann's residence above the New York planetarium and keep the building under surveillance until they received further instructions from her.

She wished she knew more about this Doctor Swann, but Laura had only received a limited amount of information from Chloe rather than a complete data dump during the two days they shared a body after the Roman adventure and before Laura had returned to Lana's body. If there had been more time before Clark's imminent arrival, she would have paid the Doctor a visit for her own special brand of interrogation. But she knew Clark would head straight there after his arrival and with his incredible speed, he might be there within seconds of his arrival. However most likely, the Doctor was only going to help figure out the use of whatever the device was that Clark had traveled back to 1936 to retrieve. And perhaps Clark might not even need the explanation; it might be completely obvious. Damn, even more than she wished she had an opportunity to interrogate Swann, she wished she had seen and/or handled the device itself. Knowing how Clark might save Chloe and Lex could make a difference in how she was going to recover her old body from Chloe.

However she didn't spend much time wishing for information she didn't have. No, she had learned thousands of years ago to simply expect the worst and plan accordingly. Most of the time that worked, unless something truly unpredictable happened - like the chain of events which had led to her original downfall.

She straightened up, walked to the curb, and waved at the approaching limo. It pulled up and paused near her on the other side of the row of parked cars. Quickly, she stepped between two of the parked cars and walked up to the passenger side window. As she approached, the window rolled down just far enough that the driver could hear her in the sound-proofed interior.

Sliviuh leaned up to the window. "Hi, I'm Laura Lee. Are you here for me?"

"Yes, although the girl I am here to pick up is supposed to be wearing a black tee shirt that says 'Sex Instructor'," responded the man with a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Yeah, that's me," answered Sliviuh with an overt glance down at the plain white tee shirt she had 'borrowed' from one of her new converts. "I'm afraid immediately after the mugging that was all I could find to wear. But while I have been waiting I managed to scrounge up this one, which I like better. However, if you really need to see my old tee shirt, well, give me a few minutes to go dig it out of the trash can where I left it. Oh, your name is Wayne, right?"

The driver stared at her for a few moments and then gestured to the back. "No, Ms. Lee, I don't think digging up the other tee shirt will be necessary. Please get in and I will take you back to the Belmont."

Sliviuh flashed him a smile followed by a small nod of her head before moving back to the rear entrance of the stretch limo.

She had barely pulled the door shut when the big limo glided smoothly and effortlessly back into the flow of traffic.

Sinking back into the deep, soft upholstery, Sliviuh had just gotten back to planning her next move when she felt another attempt by Lana to penetrate her defenses. The biggest problem Sliviuh had with sharing this body with its original owner was remaining in control. She wished there was some way she could simply eliminate Lana, but so far that had turned out to be impossible. The best she could do was keep the girl trapped in a virtual reality world. But the longer she was trapped, the more powerful and skillful Lana became. It was taking more and more effort to keep Lana from the secret which would once more give her control of her body. By Sliviuh's 'bots best estimate, she had at most seventy-two more hours before it would take one hundred percent of her attention to fight the girl, which would effectively drop her into a catatonic state and leave her helpless. So, she had that long to find a way to permanently subjugate the girl, or eliminate the girl's personality, or figure out how to relocate to a more receptive body.

The only body besides Lana's where she was certain to find a functional 'bot network was her old body, so that made Chloe her most logical choice. If that turned out to be impossible for any reason, the next best solution was to somehow use meteor rocks to make another body receptive to her 'bots; in the same way the 'bots introduced into Lana's body had remained active even after Chloe had broken physical contact due to Lana's long exposure to the meteor rock in her necklace. Of course, she didn't have years to expose a body to the meteor rocks like with Lana. However many of the 'meteor freaks' had displayed their gifts after only brief, extremely violent exposure. So if she put her mind and 'bot system to work on the problem, that approach might yield another solution.

Therefore, while her struggle to defeat Lana could take place anywhere, reacquiring her old body or using meteor rocks to make another body receptive both required a return to Smallville. It looked like everything was coming full circle. Just like Clark, her destiny might be linked to events in the storm cellar or shortly thereafter.

As this most current battle for control of Lana's body ramped up, Sliviuh forced her mind back into the world where she had trapped Lana.

- + - + - + - + - + - +

Lana stared across the wide valley bisected by a broad river of boiling blood and on up to the massive walls of the ancient city of Dis. Circling in the distance above the walls, she could just make out large winged creatures against the gloomy, perpetually overcast sky. If the rumors they had encountered in recent months were true, these were 'The Twenty' – angels banished to this region of Hades for the crimes of lust and pride. And if these really were the fallen angels, then the other portion of the rumors, that this was one of the dreaded 'damped zones' where her magic wouldn't work, was probably also true. Reaching forth with her enhanced senses, she could just make out the edges of the dampening field. She hated how the most important keys were always located in spots like this.

Would this be the one, she wondered. The one which would finally unlock all of her memories? There had been so many countless battles over the past five hundred years; at times she almost forgot why she continued to fight on. And after most of those battles, all she ever found were keys to the next step in her seemingly endless quest. Now, after all of the years spent searching, this next one would be the hundredth key she had uncovered. She hoped in her heart there would be something special about this one.

Sighing, she took one last look at the two mile wide roiling river of blood and tried to block out the screams of its denizens – the millions who were trapped in this particular level of hell and forced to forever wade against the current in the river Pyriphlegethon as it encircled the city walls like a giant impassable moat. Trying to momentarily shove thoughts of the river and its contents to the back of her mind, which was already bursting with the horrors of all the previous levels of hell she had had to traverse to reach this spot, she slowly shimmied back until she could rise without being silhouetted against the ridgeline. As she climbed back to her feet, she looked down at her two long-time companions in this seemingly endless quest.

Waiting patiently at the bottom of the hill in his perpetually clean, white tunic was the ancient winged God, Ares. One of the earliest keys she had found had led her to him. Many other people and things from her lost memories had been returned to her through the office of the keys. But while most of them were carefully secreted away in her base of operations back in early twentieth century Montana, only Ares had accompanied her on every new quest.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. One other had accompanied her, too. Mister Ed, her horse, who had been her constant companion since her first waking moment in Montana over five hundred years earlier. Not that he was the same Mister Ed as in those earliest days. No, one of her first acts on learning of her magical powers in this existence had been to give him the power of speech. As a result, they had enjoyed many fascinating conversations over the next few summers they had spent together in the high country of Montana rounding up wild Mustangs.

But over time Mister Ed had continued to morph, and she wasn't sure it was all of her own doing. Finally, for the past fifteen or twenty decades, the horse's appearance had stabilized in a new configuration - a giant winged Sphinx with the body of a lion standing eight feet tall at the shoulders, wings of an eagle with a forty-five foot span, and topped by the head of a girl with long, flowing blonde hair. The Sphinx's face now strongly resembled the girl Chloe, whom Lana had only met twice since her first awakening, but the Sphinx insisted its name was now Fah not Chloe or Mister Ed.

While Ares projected a calm appearance at her approach, as though he would be perfectly content to wait there for her forever, Fah pawed at the ground with a foreleg in a motion that looked more appropriate to a hoofed horse than to a giant lion with padded feet almost a foot in width. This wasn't the first time the old horse seemed to be in control of the Sphinx's body. No, generally the old Mister Ed personality seemed to be in charge of the body even if he now spoke with a soprano's voice rather than his former rich baritone. Only when the Sphinx's eyes changed from their normal gold to a brilliant vivid green, indicating it was about to speak in 'Oracle' mode, did it seem that someone other than the horse was in control. Lana suspected at those times it was the mysterious Chloe trying to pass messages to her, but she could never be one hundred percent certain. Whatever the true source, when the Sphinx went into 'Oracle' mode, she had found it was worth paying attention. For while its pronouncement often seemed almost as cryptic as those from the Oracle of Delphi, once correctly deciphered, they almost always provided useful information.

"The city of Dis and the river Pyriphlegethon are just over the next rise," began Lana with a jerk of her head towards the hill she had just descended. "I could see a few of The Twenty circling above the city. And even though we are still at least ten miles from the city proper, I can already feel the magical dampening field."

"Are there any routes across the river?" asked Ares.

Lana shook her head. "Not that I could find. The only option I see is to fly."

"I am more than happy to give you a lift," stated the Sphinx as she slowly flexed the four inch long claws of her front paws.

Lana nodded her thanks. It had been the arrival of Ares many centuries earlier which had triggered the concept in Lana's mind that she could use her magic to fly and she didn't even have to sprout giant wings like Ares or the Sphinx to do it. No, she could soar along with the others through the power of her thoughts alone. Everywhere that is except in the 'damping zones'. In the zones only winged creatures could fly, even seeming magically beasts could fly as long as they had wings. Lana didn't understand all of the underlying principles of this realm, but the 'damping field' mostly affected just her. Inanimate objects like weapons, healing elixirs, or jewels of power, retained their magical properties. Creatures like the Sphinx retained their form and abilities. Only she and other wielders of magic like wizards and warlocks were directly impacted. And she really hated it. Things were always easier when she had access to her long accustomed capability to get out of tight situations by merely 'imagining' a solution. But whining about it wasn't going to change anything and she would once again just have to depend on her wits and her little magic bag.

"Shall we be off then?" asked Ares raising Kerauno, his staff of power. Even as she watched, small bolts of lightning appeared to race up and down the shaft with the most intense glow surrounding the fist-sized sapphire mounted in the upper end. She had witnessed Ares use the staff to project beams of light, heat, and power to defeat countless monsters and enemies over the years. She knew he had no fear of going up against fallen angels.

"Let me just see what is in my bag for this occasion and then we can be off," she responded while sliding the battered old rucksack off her back.

The bag looked unremarkable at first glance, a plain brown leather bag with a simple flap covering the top and a pair of sheepskin-padded shoulder straps. As she lowered it to the ground, it appeared to weigh no more than a few pounds. And seated on its square base, the sack formed a roughly one foot by one foot by one foot cube.

However the bag was far from ordinary. Lana had received it from King Suleiman the Magnificent several centuries earlier as a reward for aiding him in the capture of Asmodeus, chief of the Jinn. After hearing of Lana's seemingly never-ending quest, Suleiman had used his power over the magical jinn to force Asmodeus to enchant the bag. Ever since, the bag was not only infinitely large on the inside, but also endowed with the ability of always locating the items she most needed right at the top. Over the long years of her quest, she had stored many items in the sack. Generally it was items she had placed there herself that she recovered when she delved her arm in, but occasionally she would find things she had no recollection of ever having seen before.

Certainly she could have created a bag like this with her own arcane abilities without needing a jinn, but as often was the case here, the true limiting factor was her imagination. Until Suleiman had presented the bag to her, the concept of a bag like this had simply never occurred to her. But it had certainly turned out to be useful, particularly in 'damped' zones since it permitted her to transport literally thousands of pounds of useful items like some character straight out of a video game. Video game? What was that, she wondered, as once again some term popped into her head from her lost memories.

Shaking her head slightly, Lana reached into the sack and the first thing she found was her brilliant golden armor. After stripping off her intricately patterned navy blue silk jacket and the matching trousers, she stowed them in the bag. Then Lana quickly donned the form-fitting gold breastplate and matching short pleated skirt woven from special golden thread. Her magic couldn't protect her in magic-damped zones, but she had long ago discovered gold offered more protection in hell regions than leather, bronze, or steel.

After pausing to ruffle her fingers through her short black hair, Lana slid on her golden helmet. Except for eye slits carved in the style of Egyptian cat eyes, it covered the upper half of her face. Each temple of the gleaming helmet was adorned with a swept-back feather design giving her head the appearance of some dangerous bird of prey.

Then, reaching back into the sack, she felt her hand close around the familiar hilt of her sword, Kirkagaard. Once the four foot long weapon was clear of the sack, she slid Kirkagaard half-way out of its scabbard. Instantly everything within thirty feet took on a violet tinge as power radiated from the potent blade. Satisfied, Lana slid the weapon back into its sheath and slung the long, two-handed implement across her bare back with the hilt protruding above her left shoulder, within easy reach of her right hand in an emergency.

Kneeling back down by the sack, Lana next pulled out a quiver with three golden arrows and a light, compact compound bow. Many centuries earlier the quiver would have been bulging with arrows, but after receiving the bag she had modified the quiver to similarly provide a replacement arrow every time one was withdrawn. It had certainly been handy eighty years earlier when she had been trapped in another 'damped zone' for three weeks with a seemingly endless supply of orcs, goblins, and trolls. Hopefully, this wasn't going to be another time like that, she thought as she slung the quiver across her back - although positioning the quiver diagonal to the sword so that the feathered tails were exposed above her right shoulder, again positioned for easy use in a combat situation.

After extracting from the bag a lethal looking hunting knife and a bull whip, both of which she attached to her belt, she started to swing the bag up towards her back to strap it on over the scabbard and quiver when some inner voice told her to stop and reach into the bag one final time. When she pulled out the small object which had fallen most readily to her hand, she couldn't help but pause to grin for a moment before slipping the object under the lower edge of her breastplate for safekeeping. Now with her gut satisfied she had extracted everything she would need for the next few hours, Lana finally strapped the bag to her back.

Retrieving her homemade compound bow from the ground, Lana rose to her feet. As she turned to move towards the Sphinx, she once more marveled at her unexpected proficiency with all of these arcane weapons. And for perhaps the thousandth time, it drove her to think about her mysterious background. Just like with her extraordinary language skills, her forgotten previous life had provided her with the uncanny knack to be proficient with any weapon that came to hand. Which was fortunate indeed since none of the more modern weapons, like her beloved shotgun, worked here in the heart of Hades. Still, she had to wonder about her previous life. Had she been some kind of assassin? It was the only explanation she could ever come up with for her strange combination of skills.

As she approached the Sphinx, it crouched down on its haunches to make it possible for Lana to climb onto its back. Keeping a loose grip on the bow, Lana used her legs and right hand to clamber up until her knees were tightly gripping the lion's body right behind the wings and her right hand was reaching forward to grab a thick handful of Sphinx's blonde mane.

Settling herself, she glanced over to where Ares had begun to unfurl his broad white wings. For just a moment, as they were raised high over his head, her mind flashed to a partial memory from her prior life she hadn't previously known she had. It was a memory of Ares, no back then his name had been Clark, standing in a cemetery directly in front of a grave marker topped by an angel with wings similar to those Ares now sprouted.

Lana tried to force more of the memory to the front of her mind and briefly it seemed like the memory involved her long-forgotten parents, but then it was gone. She felt an overwhelming urge to hit something out of frustration. Over the years many small bits of her memories had been recovered, but they never seemed able to jell into a coherent whole.

Then abruptly, while Lana was mostly distracted by the reemergence of several newly recovered memories, the Sphinx gave a powerful thrust of her wings and they were airborne. As they lifted into the air, the city of Dis came into view. And along with it came a significant increase in the level of stench in the air. Unbidden she had another brief flash of a lost memory of wearing a veil under somewhat similar circumstances. Hopefully, these frequent flashes were all signs the dam was about to break and all of her lost memories would soon return.

Quickly the Sphinx gained speed and altitude. As they climbed, Lana leaned forward and whispered into its ear suggesting they circle above their current location as they climbed in the hopes of drawing one or more of the fallen angels out to this spot beyond the magical dampening field. It would certainly help level the playing field if she had access to her magic during the initial confrontation.

But it was not to be. One of the angels swung in their direction, but paused in mid-air well within the boundaries of the dampening field. Reluctantly, Lana urged Fah forward.

With Ares maintaining pace off Fah's right wingtip, they swept forward in the direction of the angel. Since it had clearly seen them, there was no point to trying to evade it.

The approach took much longer than Lana had expected and it wasn't until they had flown for almost ten minutes that she understood why. The angel was much larger than a human or even than the Sphinx. From head to toe, it must measure at least thirty feet and its wingspan had to be well over a hundred. Lana suddenly wondered if the small object she had stowed under her breastplate was going to be sufficient to get them passed the angel.

"Halt!" exclaimed the angel in a voice that sounded like it came from a chorus of a thousand angels rather than from just one. And it was as beautiful as it was powerful.

Lana tightened her knees around Fah's back in a signal to comply and the Sphinx slowed to a hover about thirty feet from the angel and level with its large head.

Lana tried to find her voice to respond to the angel's challenge, but for a moment she was frozen by the incredible beauty of the creature. She, of course, had heard the stories of their unimaginably gorgeous appearance; however having never directly encountered one before, the stories had been impossible to truly comprehend. The angels were an androgynous race and this one's face seemed to perfectly blend the best features of both men and women. A proud, straight nose separated two high prominent cheekbones and floated above full pink lips which had to have been designed specifically for kissing. Two liquid silver eyes seemed to stare directly into Lana's soul as she sat dumbstruck on the Sphinx's back.

Perhaps sensing her distress, Ares suddenly raised Kerauno. As lightening bolts surged up into the dark sky from the pulsating staff, Ares roared, "Move aside, Oh Fallen One, so Princess Caledonia may pass!"

A startled expression briefly crossed the angel's face, although whether it was in response to Ares' action or in recognition of her battle-name, Lana wasn't certain.

Then its countenance darkened in a way that clearly explained its fall from the heavenly planes. "Dare not to speak to me in those tones. I, Semyazza, am the greatest of The Twenty and I tolerate no disrespect from mortals or lowly gods within my realm." The first words had been said with an icy frost to the achingly beautiful voice, but by the end the words were burning hot like molten lava.

As Semyazza raised its enormous right arm to smote Ares from the sky like some annoying insect, Lana quickly withdrew the small ivory and jade encrusted object from within her golden breastplate.

"Oh Mighty Lord Semyazza, please accept this humble token in return for access to your realm," cried Lana lifting the small glittering object high above her head. Carefully, she angled the silvered front so the angel would see the object was a mirror. Then once she saw the hunger in the angel's eyes, she continued. "Do we have a bargain?"

Semyazza's eyes never left the mirror as it croaked out a hoarse, almost desperate sounding, "Yes."

Lana tossed the mirror towards the angel and it quickly snatched it out of the air. The small four inch diameter mirror seemed to momentarily disappear into the angel's gigantic hand but almost immediately it was gently pinched between the thumb and forefinger and raised to its enormous face. The angel couldn't possibly see more than the tiniest fraction of its face at one time in the mirror, but its entire attention was focused on the mirror and the angel began to slowly drift away.

'VANITY, thy name is Semyazza,' thought Lana, glad she remembered her Dante and how the one stricture imposed on the all-powerful Twenty was an inability to conjure any device which would allow them to look upon their own countenance. Fortunately for her, the stricture hadn't prevented bringing such a device in from outside of Hades.

With one final glance at the angel, she urged Fah forward.

They were at two thousand feet and still climbing when they crossed above the edge of the river. Even at this great height the moans and cries of the people forever trapped in the churning waters were almost overwhelming and Lana was tempted to cover her ears. Instead she steeled herself and looked down into the crimson waters. What particular category of sins had stranded these people here? She thought the five hundred years she had been questing for the way out of this existence and back to her old life had seemed endless, but compared to thousands of years trapped in the boiling blood below, her life here suddenly didn't seem so bad.

Fah must have been feeling some of the same things as Lana, because the rate at which she was beating her wings definitely picked up and in only a few of minutes they were soaring passed the far bank of the river.

The great wall of the city of Dis was set back nearly a mile from the edge of the river. As they approached, Lana could feel its great age, the wall must be thousands of years old. And from its decrepit appearance, it looked like almost that long since the wall had seen any serious repairs. It towered three hundred feet in the air and was almost fifty feet thick, yet in some places the wall had tumbled almost all the way to the ground. Who had it been built to defend against, wondered Lana. What kind of titanic battles had taken place in Hades in times long forgotten?

Lana leaned forward and pointed passed Fah's head to a cleared area just inside the great wall. "Fah set us down over there." Things had a way of morphing in Hades, which made it difficult to find what you were looking for from the air. Just like her magical rucksack, from the air the city appeared to only extend for several miles, yet she knew from her studies, the city was unimaginably larger - for how else could it house its share of the billions of lost souls who had ended up in Hades over the long, long millennia?

For such a large creature, Fah made a deft landing and then resumed the crouch which would allow Lana to dismount. After swinging her leg up over Fah's back, Lana slid off on the Sphinx's left side and dropped lightly to the ground. Her feet had barely touched when the great lion rose back to its feet and then lifted its wings high above the girl before folding them back along its long torso.

Lana had just stepped forward passed Fah's shoulder when Ares landed on the Sphinx's other side. When she glanced at him, Lana saw he was still scanning the sky. She also saw how his staff was still releasing loud crackling lightning bolts into the heavily clouded sky. Not only were the bolts brightening the surrounding perpetual twilight, but they were also releasing staggeringly powerful peals of thunder which literally shook the nearest buildings.

"Ah, Ares, could you please put a leash on Kerauno? I would just as soon not prematurely announce our presence or, frankly, wake the dead," Lana hissed while throwing in a glare for good measure.

Ares stared back for a moment and then began to grin. "In case you haven't noticed, I think all the dead are already awake," he responded. However after one last glance to the skies, he did slightly lowered the staff and the massive lightning bolts were replaced by small ropes of yellow fire dancing silently around the sapphire.

Lana couldn't help grinning in return. "Okay, but I would just as soon not attract every one of them within ten miles. I'm sure you haven't forgotten Zombie Island already?"

Ares' face sobered and then he pretended to pick at some invisible piece of lint or dirt on the front of his white tunic. "No. I haven't forgotten."

Lana nodded and then turned to inspect their surroundings, but for a moment she couldn't get the mental image the words 'Zombie Island' conjured out of her head. Ares had been chained to the large sacrificial stone and as she had worked feverously to get him free, the ground had erupted with zombies. By the thousands they had clawed their way clear from their resting places and had come shambling towards them. She had barely gotten Ares free before the first of them had reached them. Unfortunately, Ares' wings had been severely damaged during the preceding rituals and it had been necessary to fight their way out on foot. It hadn't been quite as scary as the time with the orcs, trolls, and goblins, but still bad enough. How many more horrific things would she have to experience before she escaped this existence, she wondered. Taking in some of the abominations appearing in nearby doorways and windows, she remembered they were in the heart of Hell and knew the answer to her question was at least a few.

"This way," said Fah as she headed at a lope across the open plaza where they had landed towards a street leading deeper into the heart of the city.

Lana had only managed a brief glance at the Sphinx's face, but it had been enough to see the brilliant green of her eyes. If Fah was in 'oracle' mode, it would be best to follow her suggestions. Although she would have followed the great beast/woman anyway, as this was no time for the three of them to get separated.

Looking towards Ares, she saw he was already moving to follow the Sphinx yet his eyes were focused on a building on the far side of the plaza. Lana followed his gaze and before things had fully registered her right hand was already pulling an arrow from her quiver and her feet had sped up to a run.

Roaring out of the entrance to the crumbling building was a near tidal wave of were-dogs. Smaller than were-wolves she had encountered several times before, these tortured souls, which had probably been household pets in their former lives, were just as mean and vicious as their larger cousins. And in large packs they were equally effective killers.

As Lana raced after the Sphinx and was preparing to call her old friend back so they could fly out and look for an alternate entry point, Lana looked back towards Ares. He wasn't following, but standing where he had been while gesturing with his great staff. After a few seconds he lifted the staff with both hands and held it above his head parallel to the ground.

"Kora-tor!" shouted Ares. Immediately the entire length of Kerauno pulsed with yellow fire. Then the fire sprang forth and formed a barrier wall fifty feet tall and extending the full width of the plaza.

Turning to look at Lana where she had finally paused, Ares grinned. And as the yellow light of the fire highlighted his shoulder-length curly black hair, he threw her a wink. "I wasn't in the mood for running."

Lana could hear the dogs howling on the far side of the flaming barrier. "Very impressive, although it seemed pretty risky."

"What risk?" laughed Ares, as with one powerful stroke of his wings he launched himself into the air. Then swinging low, he grabbed Lana up into his arms and beat a path after the retreating form of the Sphinx who was just about to disappear around a bend in the street she had chosen.

As Ares flew barely four feet above the trash strewn street, Lana once more reflected on his reckless nature. But then what could you else could you expect from a god?

- + - + - + - +

They hiked across the city of Dis for countless hours. No clocks worked anywhere in Hades and no days or nights broke the perpetual twilight to give any clue as to the passage of time. But then, of course, for the souls trapped in Hell that was the whole point; they were here for eternity.

Lana estimated they had been trekking through the great city for at least twelve hours and had covered maybe twenty miles. It was as she had expected when she had originally suggested they landed just inside the wall; the city was far vaster on the ground then it had appeared from the air.

And the city was also not the monotony Lana had expected, but rather an enormous hodge-podge of architectural styles from countless time periods and cultures. Apparently, Hades didn't discriminate based on race or philosophy. No, everyone was welcome to come and spend any eternity of despair here.

They passed through neighborhoods from Christian, Islamic, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, and every other religious background ever imaged. The neighborhoods ranged from prehistoric stone ages through the middle ages and right up to the most modern. However the one thing they all shared was the sense of disrepair as though no one cared about maintaining the infrastructure. And probably no one did, at least they hadn't come across anyone who actually wanted to be here.

The luckiest ones, if any here could be called that, seemed to be lost in a perpetual stupor completely unaware of what was going on around them. The less lucky ones seemed to be aware, but were forever stuck in an unending loop of torture and death. They had paused once to watch a man enter the street from a doorway in building that looked straight out of Shakespearean London. He moved along the front of the building looking fearfully over his shoulder, but as he was looking back two women with sharp knives approached from the front. After haranguing the man for several minutes as he cowered in obvious terror, the women proceeded to use their knives to slice off his clothes, then his skin, and finally they removed – one by one – all of his internal organs. Throughout this ordeal the man screamed in pain and pleaded for mercy until nothing was left of him but a bare skeleton. After the women wandered away, the skeleton slowly dissolved away. Then as they continued to watch, the cycle started all over with the same man exiting out of the same doorway.

Throughout this long journey through Dis, where they had had to use their magical weapons to defend themselves on numerous occasions, the great Sphinx never wavered. She seemed to have a firm fix on their destination.

Finally, they turned a corner and suddenly found themselves in what looked like Las Vegas. A Hades-version of what the city might have been like in the 1950s, but Vegas all the same. A long row of casinos and hotels lined the Strip, but most of their famous neon lights were either broken or slowly flickering as though they were on their last legs.

"City of Lost Dreams - a most appropriate place to find in Hell,' thought Lana. She was a little surprised when Fah turned and started heading down the center of the street until she suddenly felt it, too. The key they had come all the way to Hell to find was suddenly near.

This street was by far the most crowded they had seen since arriving in Dis. For all the millions, perhaps billions of people trapped in Dis, most of them were here to experience their own private hell and things were spread out enough to allow that to happen. But this street, this Vegas, was for a different personality type among the lost souls. With one look, Lana could tell most of the people who were aimlessly wandering this street were the private types who abhorred ever being noticed and who had slid through life always staying in the background. So their hell had to require the exact opposite, they had to experience their worst fears in the most public of ways.

Most of the people trapped in the city seemed completely oblivious to Ares, Lana, and Fah. Oh, occasionally they would be noticed and attacked like with the were-dogs when they had first arrived, but for the most part they could walk two feet in front of someone and it was like they couldn't even be seen.

But that wasn't true on this street, in this pseudo-Vegas, at least not Ares. They had been walking for several blocks sticking to the center of the street as the sidewalks were thick with hookers from hell, which was of course appropriate considering where they were. At first glance these women all looked like the prototypical Vegas streetwalker – thigh-high black leather 'fuck me' boots with broken heels, short fur coats that weren't quite long enough to fully cover their ass, and heavily painted faces that could be anywhere from fifteen to eighty. But the resemblance to hookers stopped there for whenever they could entice a man to approach within reach, which seemed to happen with remarkable frequency, their beautiful faces abruptly morphed into something from a Gigerian nightmare with an incredible triple-row of fangs like a cross between a shark and a vampire. Quickly they would rip out the throats of their victims with gouts of blood spraying everywhere. And many times their enthusiasm was such that their victims' heads would be completely severed to go bouncing out into the street.

Unfortunately for Ares, it was these hookers who abruptly noticed him. As soon as they did, they ignored their normal victims completely. And also as soon as they did they made their intentions obvious by immediately changing from their normal whorish appearance to their horrorish appearance. Within seconds the nearest two hundred of them were all converging on Ares with the intent to rip out his throat, his heart, his entire body in the way they had witness the two women skin the man alive earlier.

"We need to get out of here," shouted Ares.

Lana glanced at him seeing he already had his wings unfurled and was about to take flight.

"No, wait," she shouted in return. "Our destination is right there." Using her freshly drawn sword she pointed half a block further down the street to the grand entrance to the Caesar's Palace Casino.

Ares glanced at where she was pointing and then lowered his staff until it was pointing in the direction of the five nearest hooker monsters. Then the whole street lit up as a powerful blast of light incinerated them. They quickly blackened and then began to glow orange and white like coals on a barbeque before crumbling into piles of ash. But before they had hardly settled to the ground the next group rushed passed and these fallen ones began to regenerate. Since everyone trapped in Hades was already dead, it was impossible to kill them for long.

As Lana resheathed her sword and took up her bow to help slow the advancing hoard of deadly prostitutes, she was glad Ares hadn't yet taken flight. They had discovered several hours into their journey, when they had been back into a corner by a swarm of flesh-eating locusts, that if you took flight and lifted more than a few feet off of the ground, when you tried to land you found yourself back on the outskirts of the city. And their goal was suddenly so close she could almost taste it and she didn't want to have to do the whole hike over again to get back here.

Lana drew and shot, over and over. Every arrow that hit one of the hookers through the heart caused them to burst into flames like vampires in a movie. Ares continued to blast away with his staff taking them out ten and twenty at a time. Fah roared like the lion she was and used her powerful clawed forepaws to rip them apart and throw the pieces into the next advancing group.

Slowly they worked their way towards their destination. Twenty feet. Fifty feet. Two hundred feet. Finally, they were on the sidewalk right out in front of the casino's entrance. They must have destroyed hundreds of the whores, but for every one they eliminated, three more seemed to spring up to take their place. By now there had to be a thousand of the enraged hookers trying to get at Ares and they were beginning to turn on each other in their madness.

Then with one step backwards, which didn't feel any different than any of the others, they passed through some invisible barrier which the hookers couldn't cross or even see through. Immediately, they all lost interest, as if they had no recollection of Ares, and they wandered off in search of their normal victims.

"I told you, you shouldn't have worn that aftershave," quipped Fah to Ares, as he and Lana slowly lowered their weapons.

As the adrenaline started flushing from her system, Lana looked over at Ares. He stood with sweat gleaming from his arms, legs, and the exposed portions of his torso. At this moment he looked more than ever like the legendary god he was. Throughout their five hundred year adventure, girls had always been throwing themselves at him, although usually not quite this violently. Lana could see how gorgeous he was and on some level understood the reaction women had for him, yet strangely she had never felt quite the same way herself. He was her best friend, her compatriot, but not the one she loved. Deep in her heart she knew there was another. The one she had been waiting for all of these centuries.

"Yeah, Ares, turn it down a notch. I think I am starting to feel the urge to attack you, too," said Lana, jokingly throwing an arm up across her eyes as though it was dangerous to look at him.

Ares merely shook his head with the godly patience he always showed with these two women eternally at the center of his life.

With the dark mood - always present in battle - finally broken, Lana turned to look into the casino. In the same way time and space seemed to be distorted everywhere else in Hades, the interior of this casino, which appeared normal sized on the outside, stretched before them as far as the eye could see. And the space was filled with row after endless row of slot machines. The air was filled with sounds of coins being dropped into slots and the bleep, bleep, bleep of spinning wheels.

However it wasn't until they started walking deeper into the casino that the true hellish qualities of this place became apparent. In front of every single one of the one armed bandits stood one of the damned souls. Well, standing in front of the machines was definitely being overly polite about their true situation. Rooted in front of the machines was more accurate. The lower half of each victim's body was actually a tree trunk with roots extending down through the carpeted floor. And their upper bodies weren't fully human either. No, their right arms had been replaced with rusted mechanical linkages which were permanently attached to the pull-lever on the slot machines. Their left hands were still human, but they might as well have been replaced with mechanical mechanisms, too, since they robotically picked up a coin from the bucket in front of them and dropped it into the slot on the machine in an endless cycle. All the while their unblinking eyes danced from spinning wheel to spinning wheel always expecting them to stop on three cherries, but of course they never did.

As Lana and the others walked down the long, long aisle, she continually heard the bells and whistles of machines paying off big time, yet she never saw a single winner, not even one coin returned. And that really drove home how this truly was the 'City of Lost Dreams'. These people had spent their lives looking for the quick, easy path to riches. Now they were condemned to spend eternity here with the hopes that the next pull of the lever would grant them riches and an escape, only to have their hopes dashed every single time.

The three of them hiked down the central aisle of the casino for what felt like hours. Occasionally they would pause and try to talk to one of the people playing the machines, but it was difficult to get them to look away for more than a few seconds. Even the fact they were a girl in a golden breastplate and helmet, a winged god, and a giant sphinx didn't make any difference. After awhile they simply stopped trying, these people were trapped in a personal hell where Lana and the others simply didn't exist.

Abruptly, without any prior warning, Fah turned and headed to the right between two rows of machines that didn't seem to Lana to be any different than any of the other rows. However they walked less than one hundred feet before coming to a door. When Lana looked back over her shoulder, she discovered the never-ending casino had abruptly shrunk back to a normal size with walls in all directions within a few hundred feet.

Turning back to face the normal looking door, the sensation Lana was getting of the key was greatly heightened. They must be getting close now.

Taking a deep breath, Lana reached out for the door handle having no idea what would be on the other side. And here in Hades almost anything could be on the other side. Pulling the door open, she was almost disappointed to see an ordinary looking corridor.

Leading the way, Lana stepped into the hallway. Ares was right behind her. Fah was bringing up the rear and cursing a blue streak as she squeezed her great bulk through the normal sized door. Fortunately, the corridor itself was a fifteen feet wide by twelve feet high.

The first thing Lana noticed was the lively music coming from somewhere ahead. The second thing was that the wide, tall corridor wasn't designed for Fah's convenience, but for the numerous women scurrying about in costume – Vegas showgirl costume.

Each of the women they saw looked to be at least six feet tall and that didn't even include their large feathered headpieces which extended up at least another three feet. And besides the headpieces none of them were clad in anything but miniscule g-strings.

For a moment Lana just stood there and stared. This area of Hades was a version of Vegas, so it shouldn't have come as a big surprise, but she had been expecting to battle monsters or demons for the key, not this. With a sinking feeling she realized this was going to be one of 'those' types of keys.

Abruptly, the nearest showgirl turned to her and lightly grabbed Lana's upper arm.

"You're late. You need to hurry and get ready," said the woman with a strong lisp.

Lana had turned and looked at the woman's face just as she finished speaking and she quickly understood the cause of the woman's lisp, which reinforced that they were still in Hades – like she was going to forget. The woman had a big fake smile firmly plastered on her face. And 'plastered' was the key word. Her face looked to be frozen in that expression and the voice had issued from deep inside like from a world-class ventriloquist who could talk without moving his lips or face.

Knowing some task was required of her to achieve the key, Lana allowed the showgirl to lead her forward. After passing five open doorways, through which at least thirty more girls could be seen in various states of dress, the girl holding Lana's arm paused before the sixth door. This door happened to be painted bright blue and when Lana looked at it she discovered it was adorned with a large silver star. Directly below the star was a nameplate which read 'Lana Lang' in big bold type.

"You need to hurry. The show starts in five minutes," the girl announced; throwing open the door as she released Lana's arm.

Stepping through the doorway almost in a daze as her body dropped out of combat-mode and tried to prepare for whatever was coming next, Lana quickly scanned the room. It was obviously a dressing room with a vanity table and mirror in one corner. But except for a couple of battered old couches and chairs, the room was otherwise bare.

Lana walked over the vanity and stripped off her helmet. While she was setting it on the tabletop, she could see in the mirror that Ares had followed her into the room and Fah was in the process of squeezing through the door. Fortunately, like a house cat, if Fah could get her large head through an opening, she could get the rest of her body through, too.

"This is already turning out to be an interesting key and we haven't even reached it yet. Sort of reminds me of the one in Istanbul. You remember, the one which lead to Nell," said Ares with an attempt at a lecherous grin. However 'lecherous' truly wasn't in his nature and therefore he couldn't ever quite achieve the right look.

Lana felt a shudder run through her body as she tried really hard not to remember Istanbul.

"Well, it is obvious participating in the show is somehow necessary to achieve this key," Lana quickly said to get thoughts of Istanbul out of her mind.

"I wonder where my costume is?" she asked as she scanned the room for a second time. She half expected one of the large feathered headdresses the other women were wearing to have magically appeared. Going out on stage as a member of a topless chorus line wasn't her first choice in how to spend her time, or second, third, or even one-thousandth, but she had been forced to do more personally disgusting things to achieve some of the previous keys, like the time in Istanbul - Damn, she hadn't wanted to think about Istanbul again.

In the mirror she saw Ares and Fah also scan the room, but when they turned back to her it was Fah who spoke and her eyes were glowing such a bright shade of green, the pale walls of the dressing room almost seemed to take on a green tinge.

"Look in your bag," was the Oracle Fah's simple pronouncement.

Bowing to the inevitable, Lana slid off the rucksack's shoulder straps and dropped the bag to the floor in front of the chair by the mirrored vanity. Before delving into the bag, she removed the arrow quiver and her sword scabbard as well and placed them on the floor next to her bow. Finally, she knelt down beside the bag, threw back the cover and stretched her right hand down inside. Her fingers closed around a small flat box that was remarkably heavy for its size. She quickly drew it out.

Instantly, she recognized it even though it had been one hundred sixty three, no sixty four years since she had put it in the bag. The box had been carved from a single piece of pale green jade and weighed almost two pounds. The cover was illustrated with a carving of two cranes in flight over a small pond with a temple to Buddha just visible along the left edge.

The box had been a gift from Shu Tzing, First Concubine and Imperial Sorceress to Emperor Han Tao-Ling, Fourteenth Overlord of Chin. Lana had no idea what was in the box, as Shu had been very specific about not opening it until the day it was needed. And apparently today was that day.

Lana put her hand on the cover to remove it, but then hesitated a moment wondering what could possibly be in the small case. However her thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice out in the corridor exclaiming, 'Three minutes people. Three minutes!"

Putting her qualms aside, Lana slid off the box's cover and set it on the table. Looking inside all she found was what looked like a rolled up ball of spiderwebs. Lifting it out with her right hand, she set the box on the table next to its cover and then used both hands to carefully unroll the object.

What she found was a tiny glistening g-string made from the rarest golden silk only spun by silkworms dining on the especially cultured sacred mulberry trees of the Forbidden City. Lifted into the light, it shimmered like an iridescent soap bubble. Holding it by the nearly invisible threads which would hold the triangle in place, Lana stared at it in sickened fascination. It was so tiny and sheer it made the g-strings worn by the other showgirls look like a Nun's habit in comparison.

Ares was attempting to make some appropriately lecherous remark when he was overridden by Fah, who was still in Oracle mode.

"There is another item you need still in the bag, Lana."

As Lana carefully lowered the silk g-string, or dingziku as it had been called back in Chin, to the table top, she wondered briefly if this had been Shu's originally intended use for this item. Remembering Shu and her infamous orgies, Lana somehow doubted it. But it was the object which had come to hand when she reached into the bag, so there must be a reason.

Reaching back into the bag, this time Lana grasped something much heavier and bulkier. Hoping it was a more conservative costume to cover up the g-string, she couldn't hide the disappointment in her face when she saw the tops of gold boots appearing above the rim of the bag. However the frown turned into the startled gasp when she pulled them the rest of the way out and discovered they weren't boots at all, but ice skates. Ice skates?

She blankly stared at them for a moment until Fah once more called for her attention.

"Lana?"

Slowly Lana turned and looked directly into the face of the golden haired Sphinx.

"Lana, to access this key you must successfully execute a triple jump."

Lana's mind still felt like it was stuck in a loop. Figure skating? Figure skating was required to reach the key? This had to be the craziest one ever.

Finally, Lana said the first thing that came to mind and she had no idea where the thought even came from. "Lutz, Toe loop, or Salchow?"

Fah looked suddenly startled and then her eyes faded from green almost back to their normal gold. "Actually, I don't think the specific style was specified."

'Two minutes. Two minutes," Announced the loud voice in the corridor.

"Come on," said Ares, all business-like as he stepped up behind Lana and motioned for her to stand. "We need to get you ready."

Lana stood there numbly as Ares unfastened her gold breastplate and dropped it along with her weapons back into the rucksack. Then he stepped back and motioned for her to finish changing.

She felt like she was running on autopilot as she slid off her sandals and then her golden skirt. After dropping them into the bag, she turned towards the vanity table to retrieve the special little g-string. And as she turned, she caught a glimpse of her naked form in the mirror. Once more it was hard to believe she had spent five hundred years in this existence, her body certainly could still pass for sixteen. Then she looked at her short black hair. She normally kept it cropped as it was more convenient when wearing her helmet. But now she wished she had left it long. If she had access to her magic here, she could instantly grow it out. But then if she had access to her magic here, she wouldn't be about to attempt topless figure skating.

After carefully lifting the silken garment from the tabletop so as to not snag or damage the delicate material, she slid it up her muscular legs. At least five hundred years of combat had kept her in good shape.

Ares had picked up the skates and motioned her to sit down. As she lowered her now naked butt onto the cold metal chair, Lana tried to draw forth any memories she had of figure skating. She must know something since the names of those different jump styles had popped into her head, but the only thing she was certain of was that she hadn't been skating in the five hundred years since she had awaken back in Montana. When nothing came to her, she was only left to hope that just like her language skills and her uncanny abilities with weapons she had similar unknown gifts when it came to ice skates.

When Ares finished lacing her skates, Lana cautiously rose to her feet. Even with the blade protectors installed to help maintain the sharpened edges until she got on the ice, walking would be a precarious situation. She took a couple of experimental steps, but then paused when she saw her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. In the overall gamut of breasts, hers fell at the high, small, firm end of the spectrum. But that still didn't keep them from bouncing around almost obscenely as she moved on the awkward skates. How was she going to get through this?

Then she spied her golden helmet still sitting on the vanity. Quickly she reached over, grabbed it, and settled it back on her head. At once she felt more comfortable. The helmet might not hide any of the important bits, but it helped give her a feeling of anonymity which was better than nothing. Fortunately, she thought the bird of prey motif of the helmet actually might work with the large feather headpieces the other showgirls were wearing.

Lana glanced at Fah and then gave a tilt of her head to silently ask if using the helmet would be within the strictures imposed for accessing the key. When Fah didn't respond she took that as a sign it was acceptable and couldn't stop a small sigh of relief.

"One minute, ladies. Everyone get to your places."

Lana glanced to the door and saw a steady stream of showgirls moving passed and they were all clearly wearing skates, too.

As she started towards the door, Lana took one last look back at Ares.

Smiling, he said. "Good luck and have fun. I have every confidence you will be able to do it and the key will be shortly in your hands."

Then she glanced at Fah, whose eyes had now fully returned to their normal gold.

"Yeah, Lana. Break a leg! No wait, is that what you say to skaters or is it actresses? Oh well, you know what I mean."

Just then Lana stepped wrong and thought she would have twisted her ankle, if not for the support of the tall boots. Damn, Fah, sometimes when the old Mr. Ed personality shown through she could say the stupidest, most inappropriate things. Break a leg, indeed. Lana just hoped the giant Sphinx hadn't just jinxed her.

Stepping out into the corridor, Lana ended up walking along side the last of the showgirls and felt almost intimidated. The girl towered at least eight inches over her. And she had 'D' cup breasts, if not more, yet they didn't jiggle in the slightest as she walked. But then Lana looked up at her face, and realized the poor girl's entire body was plastic and only the deeply recessed eyes seemed completely human. When Lana looked down at how her own body rippled and sway in a much more natural way, she was suddenly not quite so upset with her situation.

It was a walk of no more than sixty feet to reach the backstage area. The portion of the area nearest the curtain was covered with ice so they could sweep majestically through the curtain when it was opened without having to awkwardly enter the ice in full view of the audience. Most of the girls who had reached the backstage area ahead of her had already moved out onto the ice.

As Lana reached the edge of the ice, she reached down and stripped the protective runners off of her blades and tossed them onto the pile which had already accumulated. Then, as she was about to step out onto the ice to see what recollection of skating her body retained, she felt a hand on her arm. After glancing down at the hand's manicured nails, Lana looked up into the face of the woman who had accompanied her on the walk from the dressing rooms.

"You can't go out there like that," said the girl while making a tsk, tsk, tsk sound somewhere behind the unwavering smile.

Damn, thought Lana, expecting to be told to remove her helmet.

Therefore she was completely shocked when the girl reached forward with both hands and started massaging Lana's breasts.

Then as she moved on to the nipples, first rolling them between her thumbs and forefingers before giving them a firm pinch, she said. "We can't have you going out there without your headlights on 'bright'; it's against casino policy."

Lana felt her nipples begin to tingle and harden, not from any sexual arousal, but because the girl's fingers were fucking cold – even worse than the metal chair on her naked butt back in the dressing room.

"There, much better," exclaimed the girl just as the orchestra out front began a loud fanfare.

"Ladies and Gentleman," began the announcer's voice, sounding exactly like Frank Sinatra to Lana and, who knew, maybe he and the Rat Pack were performing an unlimited engagement in the Vegas of Hell. "Caesar's Palace proudly welcomes you to Cleopatra's showroom for this special performance of 'Nudes on Ice'."

Lana glanced at all the other performers in their big headdresses and more modest g-strings. Calling it 'Nudes on Ice' seemed like quite an exaggeration. 'Topless on Ice' would have been more accurate, but of course it didn't have quite the same ring.

However then she looked down at her own attire. The translucent little triangle she wore hid none of her charms and 'Nude on Ice' could definitely apply from certain angles and under certain lighting conditions.

"Please give a warm round of applause," continued Sinatra, "to the girls of Caesar's Palace and in particular to our special guest artist, Miss Lana Lang."

A loud roar of applause filled the theater and then seemed to become even louder in the backstage area as a section of curtain parted to allow the first of the showgirls to glide out onto the stage.

Lana waited as the other girls preceded her. All the while the thought went around and around in her head, 'Could she do this? Could she really do this?' However it was not the whole nudity thing which was causing butterflies to flutter frantically around in her stomach. No, after five hundred years she could count off several dozen times in her life which had been decidedly worst – as at this moment no one was trying to kill or maim her. Rather it was the totally unknown element of skating and, ultimately, the triple jump.

The other skaters were out on the ice for almost a minute before Lana heard the change in tempo of the music which she simply knew was her signal to join the others on stage. Quickly, without letting herself pause to think, Lana kicked off with the right toe picks she had been using to maintain her balance. As her legs began to pump and automatically used the edges of the blades to add power to her motion, she began to relax just a little as it became obvious her body did know how to skate.

Passing through the curtain and out onto the stage, Lana felt momentarily blinded. The stage was brilliantly lit compared to the backstage area. As her eyes began to adjust, she saw the other girls were moving in a slow pattern around the perimeter of the ice to leave the central portion open for her use.

To give her body time to adjust to being on skates once again, Lana did a slow loop around the perimeter of the ice just inside of where the other girls were moving only in the opposite direction. First she passed along the audience side of the rink. The seating area felt enormous, but it was only a feeling as the area was completely dark. Were there even people out there, she wondered. What category of sin would land one in the audience of a show in the Hades version of Vegas? But regardless of who or what was out in the audience, Lana affixed a big smile on her face attempting to stay in character.

Then, all too quickly, she reached the far end of the stage and was forced to turn and head back the other way. As she went she tried to get the dimension of the rink clear in her head. And when she realized it was roughly forty-five feet wide by thirty feet deep, she wondered if it was enough. Could she get going fast enough in such a confined space to successfully execute and land a triple jump?

As she proceeded down the back side of the ice, she tried a bunny hop. No fancy spins or rotations, it was just a simple forward vault, but it did get both of her feet well off the ice at the same time. When she landed it successfully, it really boosted her morale and she immediately pivoted around until she was gliding along backwards. After racing a quarter turn around the rink, she went for a half rotation Mazurka jump with a little scissors action of her legs thrown in at the peak. When she landed that successfully, she broke into a little jig – dancing from toe picks to edges. The orchestra smoothly followed the transition and segued from old 1940's Broadway show tunes to Reggae with a pounding beat.

After several additional confidence building single rotation jumps and spins, Lana stepped up to a double toe loop. Starting in the middle of the back side of the rink, she raced backwards to the left side of the stage and made a wide fast turn until she was headed back along the front edge nearest the audience. Picking her spot, she flexed her legs, swung her right foot around her body in a counterclockwise direction and then used her left toe pick to launch herself into the air. As soon as her feet left the ground she quickly pulled her arms in tight to her chest to speed up the spin. Two quick rotations and she was back on the ground with her left foot stretched out behind her, her back arched, and her arms flung wide to her sides to maintain her balance.

She felt a big grin spread across her face and she quickly turned the maneuver into a long slow spiral with her body and left leg stretched out parallel to the ground while she caught her breath. She held the position for half a turn around the ice before reverting back to some forward and backward dance steps for the rest of the loop around rink.

Her body was feeling good and pleasantly warmed up, so Lana decided it was time to go for it. And again the orchestra seemed to anticipate her plans. The reggae slowly petered out over the course of the next lap and was replaced by a drum-roll.

Then just as she switched to a backwards glide to build up speed, her concentration was almost broken when Sinatra's greatly amplified voice whispered, 'Quiet please, as Miss Lang attempts a triple Salchow.'

Once again Lana raced down the back side of the rink, did a wide turn at the left end of the stage and came back along the forward edge. When she reached her mark, the third topless showgirl with the distinctive blue feathers, she once more launched herself into the air. Once revolution. Two revolutions. Two-and-a-half revolutions and that was when she knew she was in trouble. She was running out of altitude and she wasn't going make it all the way around. She tried to will her body to stay in the air, but it wasn't enough. Her skate touched the ice when she was still twenty degrees short of completing the third and final revolution. And twenty degrees short meant the blade of her skate was at the completely wrong angle. As soon as it touched it pitched her forward and she was tumbling across the ice.

When she slid to a stop she found herself sitting on her butt, almost tangled in the legs of one of the tall showgirls. As a shudder of disappointment echoed through the audience, Lana suddenly found the whole situation hilarious. Here she was in Hell, sitting with her butt on the icy cold, well, ice. And for a moment she couldn't get the old saying 'When Hell freezes Over' out of her mind. She could even see the banner headline in the paper 'Girl in Hell dies from frostbite to the Ass'.

- + - + - + - + - +

Once more Lana found herself lying on the cold ice, this time flat on her stomach. And there was no longer anything hilarious about the situation. No, she was trying hard to fight back the tears.

This was the seventh time she had fallen attempting the triple jump. And her mind couldn't stop circling back to the scene they had witnessed during their trek through the city of Dis where the two women had skinned the man alive over and over. Or the people rooted to the floor in front of the slot machines. Was this to be her own permanent place in Hell? To be forever trapped on this stage endlessly attempting the jump and destined always to fail?

Lana was just beginning to press herself up from the floor to make the another attempt when a deep, strong male's voice said from right next to her, "Let me give you a hand."

She turned her head and through the corner of the eye slit in her helmet she saw Ares standing there with his right hand stretched down towards her. He was clad similar to her with only skates and a g-string, which although more modest than hers did little to hide his package. His tall wings protruded above his shoulders, but were otherwise folded along his back.

Gratefully, Lana accepted his hand and allowed him to lift her back to her feet.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Ares smiled. Then slowly reaching forward, he pulled off her helmet and tossed it far out into the audience.

"Are you ready to do this?" he asked.

Lana reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes before nodding.

Ares took her left hand in his and lightly rested his right hand on her waist. As he started them gliding forward, he called out in a booming voice, "Music, please, Maestro!"

The large showroom immediately filled with strains from 'Swan Lake' as Ares led her on a circuit around the stage. And without conscious thought on her part, Lana quickly felt her legs and body begin to move in synch with her partner's.

Around and around the stage they circled, smoothly transitioning from one ice dancing move to the next. Slowly they built to more and more complicated maneuvers until at one point Ares tossed her up into the air and after doing two spins with her body parallel to the floor, she landed flat on Ares' up stretched right hand. She found herself suspended eight feet above the ice as Ares glided effortlessly along and for an instance it felt like she was flying. And with that feeling came the sudden, calm confidence she could do it. She could make the triple jump.

After another half loop around the stage, Ares lowered her back to the ice and he seemed to understand with a single glance at her eyes that she was now ready. Immediately he turned them around so they were skating backwards while quickly building up speed.

When they reached the right spot, Ares reached around behind Lana's back grasped her right arm and then transferred some of his own momentum to her by spinning her around just as she started her jump.

Lana rose up into the air, her arms tight against her sides to get the maximum possible speed out of this spin. Once. Twice. Three times the darkened audience area flashed before her eyes. Then she landed gracefully on her right foot with her left foot extended behind her for balance.

She had done it! But then feeling exhilarated and not completely sure if the assist from Ares had violated whatever rules limited access to the key, she lowered her left leg and thrust off into a second jump. Once again the jump was perfect and she could feel the broad grin spreading across her face. There could be no question: this second jump fulfilled the requirement.

Ares raced up to her and swept her into his arms. For at least twenty seconds their bodies spun and spun as Lana wrapped her arms tightly around her oldest and dearest friend. If not for his support and assistance, she might never have succeeded.

As they spun to a stop, the showroom was abruptly overtaken by what felt like an earthquake. The showgirls poised around the perimeter of the stage all were thrown from their feet and landed hard on the ice. Lana was sure the same thing would have happened to her except Ares immediately started beating his powerful wings and supported most of her weight so her skates were only lightly touching the madly vibrating ice.

Suddenly, with loud cracking and popping sounds, large cracks raced across the surface of the ice quickly shattering it into countless small pieces. As the pieces directly below their feet fell away, Ares increased the already rapid beating of his wings until they lifted completely clear of the ground. Looking down, Lana saw a massive flight of stairs appearing directly below them and disappearing into the depths.

In a moment the extent of the new structure was readily visible. Ares twisted his wings slightly and the hover changed into a slow forward motion until he was able to land right at the entrance to the new stairway. Lana felt a powerful shiver run through her body, although whether it was from the sudden response to her successful triple jump or merely a physical reaction to the powerful cold wind created by Ares' wings blowing across her sweat-soaked body, Lana didn't know.

"Congratulations, Lana. You did it," came a loud exclamation in Fah's voice. When Lana looked up, she saw the giant Sphinx standing just in front of the large curtain separating the backstage area. And strapped to the Lion's back were her rucksack and Ares' staff.

"You most certainly did," concurred Ares, as he gave her one more brief hug and then spun her around so she was facing the stairs.

The staircase was massive. Somehow, in the way of things here in Hades, the forty-five foot wide ice rink now enclosed a staircase that was itself at least thirty feet wide. Each shallow step leading down had a four foot tread and was flanked on each end by a twelve foot tall statue. These statues were cloaked figures whose faces were completely obscured by low slung hoods like the iconic Grim Reaper. Only instead of the scythe, each statue had a broadsword held point down in front of them.

And before the staircase disappeared completely into the depths, it was surmounted by a carved lintel. Lana half expected it to say something like 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here', but it didn't. It said simply, 'Supreme leader, enter Walhalla.'

Who or what were they going to find down there, wondered Lana. Although from the message over the entrance it seemed more likely to be a 'who'.

"Well, are we ready to find out what this key is?" asked Fah as she trotted up.

Lana nodded and went to take a first step towards the staircase when she discovered she was still wearing the skates. "Yeah, just as soon as I get rid of these damned skates."

Ares quickly knelt down and undid her laces. Lana kept one hand resting lightly on his shoulder until he removed the second skate.

Ares then proceeded to remove his own skates before finally looking back up at her face. "Shall I check your bag for some sandals or clothing?"

The smooth, dark granite felt warm against the bottom of her feet and something inside told her this wasn't the right time to pause for things like clothes or shoes.

"Not now," she responded and then offered her hand to help Ares back to his feet.

Continuing to hold Ares' left hand in her right, Lana started down the stairs. Glancing back over her shoulder, she called, "Coming, Fah?"

The trio set off down the staircase and quickly left the casino and the rest of 'Vegas in Hades' behind. The honor guard of cloaked statues continued to line each step. As they moved underground, the descending passage was lit by torches set in both walls after every fifth statue. Whether it had been planned or not, the flickering torchlight resulted in a multitude of shadows. And in Lana's peripheral vision, it caused the statues to appear to move. 'All we need now,' thought Lana, "is some eerie music to complete the effect.'

The stairway continued down and down. They had been descending for at least twenty minutes before they finally spotted a more intense glow ahead of them. As they got closer, they could see the stairway opened into a wide chamber with floor and walls completely covered in gold leaf.

The room when they reached it was completely filled, except for a central path. A pair of chariots were lined up against the left wall. By the right wall was stack after stack of weapons – swords, lances, pikes, shields, arrows and bows, and even a small catapult. In between were row upon row of large sealed jars which at a glance were obviously filled with wine.

The contents of this room along with the guardian statues lining the stairs and the message carved into the lintel led Lana to only one obvious conclusion. This complex was some kind of tomb. But since they were in Hades where all of the dead were animated in one fashion or another, who was in this tomb? And why?

Looking forward along the central path through all of this bric-a-brac for some noble's afterlife, Lana could see there was another chamber beyond. With a firm step, she proceeded in that direction.

As they stepped into the next chamber they could feel its grand scale, yet not really see it. Oh, they could see the high curved dome of the ceiling far above them and the walls to the left and the right with such gentle curves they must enclose a massive space. But their view straight ahead to the central portion of the chamber was blocked by a large intricately carved black monolith. The twenty-five wide by sixty foot tall stone appeared to have been carved from a single block, however it must have also been hollowed out from the inside as well for all of the lettering on its surface seemed to be lit by some internal golden light.

And inscribed in giant letters were the words: 'HERE LIES SUPREME LEADER ALEXANDER LUTHOR, SAVIOR OF THE RACE OF MAN, CHAMPION OF ROME, PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAS, DREAD-LORD OF THE HUNS, SCOURGE OF THE ARRYANS, LIGHT OF THE KNIGHTS OF THE HOLY LANCE, SLAYER OF THE DEMONS BELPHEGOR AND NELCHAEL, TRUE FRIEND AND TEACHER OF THE WAY. OFFER OBEISANCE AND TRIBUTE OR ENTER HIS HOLY AND MAGNIFICENT PRESENCES AT YOUR PERIL.'

"Quite a mouthful," stated Fah in an attempt to lighten the oppressive mood caused by the monolith as well as the slow steady pealing of some massive gong, which hadn't even been noticeable in the previous antechamber, but now grated down to the very bones.

But Lana barely heard her old friend; her gaze was frozen on two words – Alexander Luthor. Image after image came unbidden to her mind, as a rush of lost memories were restored.

After several minutes of staring blankly at the name, Ares reached over and gently shook her shoulder. "Lana, are you all right?"

Lana shook her head to clear it and then looked over at her friend. For just a moment his appearance seemed to waver into something else.

"I am fine," she answered as she turned to make her way around the monolith. "Maybe, finally, more than fine."

The three of them, who had traveled unbelievably far and faced untold dangers to reach this point, rounded the corner of the giant stone block and at last saw that which they had come to find. The chamber was circular, at least five hundred feet in diameter. In the exact center on a raised circular platform, stood a white alabaster funerary bier. Stretched out on top of the bier was the figure of a man in repose, but from their great distance and under the brilliant spotlight shining directly down on the figure from above, the three couldn't tell if the body was real or merely a statue.

Quickly, Lana's pace picked up until she was almost moving at a run; her footfalls and suddenly ragged breath going unnoticed under the ever louder pealing of the gong. Finally, as she reached the twenty-two steps leading up to the platform, she paused. She could now see the body on top of the bier was real, but it showed the pallor of death. Why did this time have to be different? The six keys among the previous ninety-nine which had restored someone from her past had always delivered them alive. Why did this time have to be different?

When Ares and Fah caught up with her, Ares again put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her forward as no words could possibly be heard this close to the source of the ringing bell. It took a moment for Lana's legs to begin to move and then she would have stumbled several times during the climb if not for Ares' support.

Then when they reached the top and stepped onto the platform, it was as though they had stepped through an invisible wall or barrier for the pealing of the bell dropped away and the silence was total.

Slowly Lana advanced to the center of the forty foot diameter platform and approached the bier. Unfortunately the bier towered almost six feet from the floor and its top was completely obscured from her view. She felt Ares step up behind her and grasp her waist. Effortlessly he lifted her up and back until her naked butt came to rest on his left shoulder. But for the moment her and Ares near nakedness was completely forgotten.

Stretched out on the stone catafalque before her was her beloved from her old life – Alexander Luthor. Her mind was suddenly filled with memories of Roman baths and massages, of counting pieces of glass in stained glass windows and cuddling, of baby blue '65 Mustangs and blown kisses.

He was dressed as a Roman Centurion with a plumed helmet under his left arm and his right hand resting on his sword hilt. But all Lana saw was the pearlescent white texture of his face and hands. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and touched his right hand. His skin was cold as ice and his hand was as immobile as if it was actually carved from a block of ice.

Lana felt her eyes beginning to fill with tears and her vision began to blur.

"What do I do know?" she softly whispered. How could she possibly go on having finally found the one she had awaited all of these centuries only to discover him dead?

Fah came up to stand next to Lana and for once with Lana sitting on Ares shoulder they were almost eye-to-eye. "Lana, perhaps you hath but bestow a kiss on yon gentle man to restore him to life."

Lana tore her eyes away from her beloved Alexander and looked at Fah. Even through her tear-filled eyes she could see the Sphinx's eyes were their normal gold and not the special 'oracle' green. But even if this suggestion came from the old Mr. Ed rather than the powers on high, she had no better idea on how to proceed.

Lana nodded and then reached down with her right hand and lightly squeezed Ares' right shoulder. He understood the signal and carefully lifted her up until she was kneeling on the edge of the bier near Alexander's waist. Briefly resting her hands on his bronze breastplate, Lana worked her way forward until she was stretched out full-length on top of him with her face suspended mere inches above his.

For a moment Lana paused to run her fingers through his shoulder length auburn hair as she studied his face. His eyes were closed and his lips were the same pallid white as his skin. Not a crease marred his face and he looked so peaceful. After a moment Lana pulled her fingers from his thick hair and ran them lightly over the line of his jaw and across the bridge of his nose. Finally, after circling the tip of her index finger around his ice cold lips several times, she pulled her finger away and leaned further forward.

Lightly at first she let her lips caress his. Then more firmly she took his lower lip between hers and sucked gently. After a few seconds she moved to his upper lip. When she moved her kisses back to his lower lip she thought he felt a little less cold. Or was her mouth merely becoming numb?

She pulled back briefly and stared down at Alexander's mouth. The lips definitely were showing a faint hint of pink she decided, and with a torch of heat flashing all the way to the core of her soul, she threw herself back into the kiss.

As she kissed and kissed, she could see out of the corner of her eye how the color was steadily spreading from his mouth and on across his face. Just as the color seemed to reach the skin around his closed eyes, she felt his mouth move and begin to return her fervent kisses.

This kiss seemed to go on for several minutes until Lana felt his hand, his warm living hand, reach up and begin to caress her bare back. She opened her eyes and found his dark blue eyes staring back at her.

Lana lifted her head until a fraction of an inch separated their mouths.

"Lana, I have missed you for so long," he whispered quietly.

"Oh, Alexander, you won't believe what I have gone through to find you," she answered before once more lowering her mouth to his.

This new kiss went on for several more minutes until the iciness Lana had been feeling from his body had been replaced with warmth and then heat. And his heat was echoed by a growing heat in her body. A special kind of heat she hadn't felt before during the entire five hundred years she had spent in this domain. And she knew it was more than sexual lust; it was love.

They were both panting for breath by the time the kiss broke. As Lana lifted herself up on her forearms, Alexander also levered himself up on one elbow. After one long lingering look at her naked breasts, he proceeded to scan the chamber as though he had never seen it before. And if he had been truly dead when he had been brought here, thought Lana, then perhaps he was seeing it for the first time.

With a gentle caress of her upper arm, Alexander twisted her body around until he was able to fully sit up. Then gathering her up in his arms, he half slid, half jumped from the bier down onto the platform.

After lowering Lana to her feet, Alexander straightened and walked over to where Ares and Fah stood. Immediately, he pulled Ares into a tight bear hug.

Lana felt weak in the knees and put a hand out to the cold white stone of the bier to support herself. As she looked at where her oldest, most important friends stood together her vision again wavered, like had momentarily happened back by the monolith. Only this time it was much stronger.

And suddenly the appearance of all her friends changed. Alexander was no longer sporting shoulder-length unruly locks and wearing the Roman armor, but instead had hair so short he almost looked bald and he was wearing black pants, a black jacket, and a white shirt open at the collar. Ares' wings were gone, his tiny thong had been replaced by jeans, a blue tee shirt, and a short red jacket, and he too was sporting much shorter hair. However Fah was the most changed of all with the sphinx body and wings replaced by the body of a young woman. Her face was much the same, but shrunk to normal human proportions.

Their new appearances lingered for several seconds and Lana was wondering at the meaning when abruptly everything about her vanished. For a split second she was in some kind of all encompassing gray limbo and then she was somewhere else. The place was unlike anywhere she had been in the past five hundred years, yet she knew it. She was in the backseat of a limo driving down a street in a large city.

However as abruptly as the visions arrived, they were gone and Lana found herself back in the giant mausoleum. And Alexander, Ares, and Fah had returned to their familiar appearances.

When Alexander called her name, she moved over to join the other three. As she walked she tried to understand the meaning of the visions. It must have something to do with her former life, she decided. But when Alexander once more pulled her into his arms and her breasts were smashed tight against his bronze breastplate, thoughts about the visions receded to the back of her mind. And when his hands moved to cup her naked butt and her mouth once again found his, her last coherent thought was that once again the rucksack had been right – today was the perfect day to wear Shu's dingziku.

- + - + - + - + - +

Sliviuh jerked erect from where she had been slouched in the backseat of the limo. Her heart was pounding so hard it took the 'bot system several seconds to get it back under control.

She knew there had been a risk in returning a selected few of Lana's memories of Lex, but she had hoped it would prove a major distraction to the girl in her quest to escape the subtle prison Sliviuh had trapped her in. However she had never expected Lana might break through without even trying. But for almost a half second Lana had been back in control of her body. Now she was once again in the virtual world and she did seem fully occupied, but Sliviuh suddenly knew her time in control of this body might be even shorter than she had earlier calculated. There was no time to waste. She needed to get back to Smallville immediately and see to acquiring another body.

Sliviuh leaned over and pressed the limo's intercom button.

"Yes, Miss?" came Wayne's prompt and courteous reply.

"Ahh, Wayne, there has been a change in plans. Please take me straight to La Guardia, the business jet terminal."

After a five second pause, during which Sliviuh thought she might have to move up front and take control of his mind, he responded. "Very good, we should be there in twenty-five minutes."

Sliviuh leaned back, thankful she wouldn't have to waste time at the moment dealing with the driver. Now she turned her attention on how best to proceed. She had selected La Guardia even though Kennedy would have been closer because Chloe had one of her emergency stashes of funds at La Guardia. Her first thought had been to charter a jet for the trip to Kansas, but then she realized she didn't have any I.D. for this body, which also complicated simply flying commercial in this post 9/11 era. Oh, she could use her abilities to commandeer a crew and get a jet that way or just steal a jet and fly herself. But using either of those methods was unlikely to allow her to arrive at her destination unnoticed.

No, with the limited time at her disposal it looked like the smallest risk was to once again use Charles at Belmont Towers. He could easily arrange to have a jet waiting on her arrival. It would have to be charged against the Denise Webber persona, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully, word wouldn't reach Chloe or at least exceed her threshold of interest in the next couple of days.

As she tried to predict Chloe's actions, she wished she had better access to Chloe's memories. Via Laura, she had all of Chloe's memories up to the events in the Roman arena, but not much after that. Oh, Laura had shared Chloe's mind for almost forty-eight hours from the return via the time machine to the Metropolis U. campus until Chloe transferred Laura to Lana's 'bot system the following Sunday night. But during that time Laura had been in a partitioned-off section of Chloe's own 'bot system and had had very little access to what Chloe had been doing during the preceding two thousand years. And certainly since Laura had been transferred to Lana's system, she hadn't had any access to Chloe. So she had no idea if her actions would attract Chloe's notice before the events in the Kent Family storm cellar. But since Chloe wouldn't even be aware of this time loop for another two days, there was no reason she would suspect Sliviuh was behind any activity from the Denise Webber financial accounts.

Therefore it took less than two seconds from the time Sliviuh's finger released the intercom button before she had run the probabilities on every visible path forward and concluded the lowest risk solution for fast transportation back to Smallville was through Charles. If anyone else had been present in the back of the limo, her hand would have appeared to have smoothly gone from the intercom button straight to her cell.

"Hello, Charles," she began with her sweetest, most syrupy Chloe voice. "I am afraid I have another small favor. . ."

- + - + - + - + - +

Clark collapsed out of the portal device onto the hard pavement of the alley.

As he laid there immobilized by his spasming limbs, he was certain every time he passed through one of the meteor rock powered doorways that his reaction was more severe. But as his body slowly returned to normal, he decided it was just his imagination and the cumulative remembrances by his mind and body of previous exposures.

Thirty seconds after the doorway from 1936 closed behind him, Clark was able to push himself into a sitting position and could finally feel enough interest in his surroundings to look around.

He was definitely in some major city and from the faint hint of salt air his powerful sense of smell was picking up, this was definitely not Metropolis. Hopefully, he was right where he was supposed to be – New York, and right when he was supposed to be – two days before the events in the storm cellar.

For a moment, after remembering all of the trials and hardships he had gone through to get here, he was seriously tempted to just use his cell phone to call Chloe and warn her not to go down in his storm cellar. However, as he in his heart knew he would do, he rejected that option almost immediately.

Scanning the alleyway where he found himself, he was almost half surprised Sliviuh hadn't attacked him during his moment of weakness upon exiting the Portal. She would certainly know its effect on him from Lana's and Whitney's memories. However he still wasn't certain how the portal system functioned under these circumstances where two different doorways were opened to the same destination time and place. They obviously hadn't both opened at once for he was certain even in his incapacitated state he would have noticed her arrival. So either she had already come and gone or she hadn't arrived yet.

Just as his legs finally felt strong enough to support his weight, he spotted the red of what looked like blood on several of the items of trash scattered around a nearby dumpster. Climbing to his wobbly feet, he started slowly walking towards the dumpster. By the time he was half way there, his body was feeling a lot better and Clark picked up the pace to a jog.

When he reached the dumpster, he carefully picked up the most blood-soaked item. Unfolding it, he recognized it as part of a German sailor's uniform. Sliviuh had definitely beaten him here; and from the tackiness of the blood, Clark guessed she didn't have more than a thirty minute head start.

He was just about to stand back up when he noticed blood smeared on the side of the dumpster. Some sections were faint and others smeared, but he quickly realized it was a message. Taking a step back to be able to take in the whole message, he made out the words:

" BE AFRAID, CLARK. BE VERY AFRAID! "

On seeing the personalized message, he couldn't stop himself from glancing around the alley; as though Sliviuh might jump out and attack him at this very moment. With all of his incredible abilities, it would have been crazy for her to try anything now. Oh, she might have had some momentary success if she had tried something as he had helplessly fallen out of the Portal, but not now.

Of course, he needed to be careful to always remember that Sliviuh in Lana's 'bot enhanced body had some incredible gifts, too. And as he stood there still staring at the words on the side of the dumpster, what Marion had told him about Lana's fight at the chateau with the two men wearing the Samson braids came rushing back to him. Apparently, Lana had defeated one of the men and was well on her way to defeating the second when the fight had been called by Biberach's holding Marion hostage with a gun to her head. Clark remembered all the trouble he had had defeating his own two opponents equipped with similar braids. Lana didn't have superhuman strength like her opponents, yet she still had been winning. Marion said Lana had won by utilizing fighting techniques she had never seen before, which was saying a lot, given Marion's extensive travels with Indy and before him her father.

Clark remembered Chloe telling him about her 'bots abilities to predict her opponent's moves and the advantages that gave her. He also knew she had thousands and thousands of years of experience honing her skills. He still was confident in a 'stand-up fight' he could beat her just like he had beaten the men with the braids. But beyond flawless fighting skills, who knew what other tricks she might have up her sleeve after spending thousands of years with the world's most powerful computer incorporated right into her body?

And he was not without weaknesses, he reminded himself. He had told Chloe about his reaction to meteor rocks on their first full day back in ancient Rome, well before the copy of Chloe's memories had been downloaded into Lana's 'bot system. Assuming Sliviuh had access to everything stored in Lana's 'bot system, she would know about meteor rocks, too. He was probably safe from that threat for the moment, but if Sliviuh went to Smallville, there were literally fields full of the rocks. If she took that approach, there was no question she had the potential to defeat him. Hell, several meteor freaks had nearly done him in through inadvertent use of meteor rock materials and they didn't have the smallest fraction of Sliviuh's experience.

All the more reason to hurry up and finish the task of restoring Chloe, he thought. Chloe would hopefully have the information necessary to defeat Sliviuh and return control of her body back to Lana.

After another quick scan of the alley for any overlooked clues, Clark was ready to head off in search of Doctor Virgil Swann. He knew Swann lived above the New York Planetarium and he also knew the planetarium was located on the edge of Central Park as part of the American Museum of Natural History. He had no idea where in New York he was, assuming he was even in New York, but he knew Central Park was very distinctive from the air. So the simplest solution was to fly up until he was high enough to get a panoramic view of New York. He was just about to take off when he hesitated.

Sliviuh knew about a lot of his abilities, but maybe not his flying. He hadn't discovered his ability to fly until after the last time he had seen Lana in Marion's hotel room. And even after he had figured out the whole flying thing, he had tried to keep it under wraps by using the Vulcan transporter cover story. Unfortunately, he knew from Marion and Indy that Lana, or rather Sliviuh had touched Whitney right near the end on the battleship. So he had to assume Sliviuh knew everything Whitney knew. He had never directly let on to Whitney, but Whitney was no fool and would have suspected there was something Clark was hiding with the Vulcan transporter story. And even if Whitney hadn't come to the specific conclusion that Clark could fly, Clark had to assume Sliviuh would. Damn.

Still, just because Sliviuh could reach the right conclusion from the available data didn't mean she had actually put two and two together and come up with five. So in case she had the alley under observation, Clark decided he didn't want to give her any additional food for thought. Therefore since he was one hundred percent certain she already knew about his super-speed running, he decided to leave the alley at a run and then transition to flying after zig-zagging down a couple of streets.

Clark shifted deep into speed mode before moving from the spot by the dumpster. Then moving at what felt like a modest walking pace, he headed for the mouth of the alley while using his x-ray vision to scan for any observers. He didn't spot anyone as he moved out onto the street filled with frozen-in-place cars and pedestrians.

On the street Clark turned left and then one block down turned right. He did this several more times without seeing any landmarks he recognized. But then since he had never been to New York before, he could probably count all the landmarks he knew on the fingers of one hand, or at most the fingers on two hands.

Finally, Clark decided he had covered his trail well enough and launched himself into the air while still deep in speed-mode. Quickly he climbed clear of the five-to-seven story tall buildings line this particular stretch of this particular street. And almost at once he could see masses of tall skyscrapers in several groups in different directions in front of him.

He shot straight up until he was level with the top of the tallest skyscraper he could see. He probably could have found Central Park from this altitude, but decided he could spare a few seconds for a truly panoramic view. Continuing to climb, he soon saw the sky directly above turning from bright to dark blue and the curve of the horizon became clearly visible. Slowing to a hover, Clark knew he was at about the same eighty thousand foot height where Var had parked his ship over Berlin earlier in the day when they had been at the Opening Ceremonies.

Turning his gaze back down, it was now easy to make out the outline of Manhattan and towards the north end of the island the large green rectangle of Central Park. Gazing further south, he could make out several smaller islands in the bay which eventually let out into the Atlantic. From this altitude he couldn't easily pick out the one where the Statue of Liberty stood, but with his ultimate goal firmly in place in his mind, he decided on a short detour.

With the thought barely formed in his head, he was already zooming back down with his course angled south towards the open water just passed the tip of the Manhattan. And as he passed the tip, it was impossible to notice the large gaping sore where the World Trade Center Towers had once stood. As the television footage of the jets colliding with the towers played in his memory, he couldn't help but think about his recent encounter with the great German battleship. If he could lift its massive bulk a mile in the air, a passenger jet wouldn't even be a challenge. For a moment he fantasized about how different things could have been if he had discovered his ability to fly eight months earlier. He could have easily diverted the tragedy and saved thousands of lives. But then he was forced to shake his head. Yeah, if he had heard about it in time he might have been able to have made a difference. But he had been in school that day and it was almost all over before word had filter down to the classrooms. If he was going to use his great gifts in times like that in the future, he would have to be better positioned to get breaking news more quickly than sitting on a farm in Smallville.

As he passed out over open water, he forced his attention from 'might have beens' to the present. Looking forward, he quickly spotted the Statue standing proudly on an island just slightly to the right of his present course. Turning in that direction, he was soon zooming up on the towering woman in the flowing gown standing on top of a tall pedestal. Slowing his apparent motion, yet still deep in speed-mode to not be seen, he hovered forty feet in front of the statue's giant face. It was amazingly beautiful, he thought, as he studied the severe expression that didn't even hint at a smile. Then looking further up, he spotted people in windows lining the lower edge of her crown. What would they think if he dropped out of speed-mode and just hovered in clear sight? It was momentarily tempting to show off his powers, but then he remembered this wasn't ancient Rome or even Nazi Germany. If someone got his photo, it wouldn't be that difficult to trace it back to him and his life in Smallville. A shudder ran through him has he pictured what his life and his parents' lives would be like if a picture of him flying was splashed across the front page of the New York Times, and probably every other newspaper in the country.

His mind flashed back to his thoughts only moments earlier about using his gifts in situations like 9-11. How would he ever be able to help in public situations like that and still maintain his personal life? It would definitely require careful thought. And as had often happened during the passed few weeks, he wondered what ideas Chloe would have on the subject. However thoughts of Chloe reminded him of why he was here in New York and it wasn't to sightsee. No, he was here to see what Doctor Swann knew and how he could help Clark in his quest to save Chloe and Lex.

Of course, the quest now needed to be expanded to include stopping Sliviuh. For after seeing how easily she had gained control of the battleship, the threat she posed to the world made al-Qaeda pale in comparison. Oh, with months of careful planning, strong financial backing, and the active participation of dozens of people, the terrorists had managed to gain control of four aircraft and fly three of them into their intended targets. But Sliviuh with no resources and no advance planning had subverted several thousand men and gained control of the battleship in less than twelve hours. If she had months at her disposal, she could probably gain control of anything she desired, for who would be afraid of a petite sixteen-year-old girl? And if she had in the distant long-forgotten past controlled the whole world for centuries, there didn't seem to be any reason she couldn't do it again. Would he have to reveal his gift to the world to stop her, Clark wondered.

Deciding he had wasted enough time sightseeing, even if less than a second had passed in 'real time', Clark turned way from the mighty statue and sped back towards Manhattan. As he flew north he gradually increased his height until he was flying about a thousand feet above the tallest buildings. And this time as he passed the World Trade Center site, he didn't spare it a glance, but kept his eyes and his thoughts directed forward.

In moments he passed over the southern edge of the Park and he descended back down to about five hundred feet and reduced his forward velocity as he scanned the buildings along the Park's edges. About half way up the Park he discovered two structures, one on the eastern side and one on the western side that simply felt like museums. Randomly selecting the eastern one first, Clark swooped down and did a low circle of the structure until along the street side he saw 'Metropolitan Museum of Art' carved above the main entrance in big letters. Guessing the American Museum of Natural History was the other one he turned and flew back across the width of the park, along the way crossing over a string of mostly empty baseball diamonds. He wondered why on this beautiful day there weren't a bunch of kids playing ball. But then he remembered that it had been a Saturday when he had departed from Smallville for Nazi Germany so it would be a Thursday now if the time machine had returned him two days earlier. Doubtlessly most kids would be in school at the moment.

Reaching the western edge of the Park, Clark took a swing around the sprawling target structure with its architectural style that looked like it belonged in the old Germany he had just seen rather than contemporary New York. Easily he found several signs that verify it was indeed the correct museum. Seeking an out of the way place to revert to normal-mode unnoticed, Clark returned to Central Park and found a sheltered spot to land and dropped out of speed-mode less than a block from museum's main entrance.

The first thing he noticed on returning to normal-mode was the heat. He must have still been in a daze from the passage through the time machine to not have noticed it back in the alley. Here, even under the shelter of the trees it felt hot and humid. After pulling his 'special' phone from the inside pocket of his blue Olympic Blazer, he stripped off the jacket and slung over his left arm. Then after walking thirty feet he emerged from the trees onto a gently curved path which prevented a clear view of the nearby street and helped create the illusion you were far from the bustling city. About twenty feet down the path, Clark saw an empty park bench. He moved to it, sat down, and draped his jacket across one knee before finally lifting his phone.

For a moment he paused to wonder about this mysterious Doctor Swann. He knew very little about him other than he had made his fortune years earlier when his designs and patents had formed the foundation for the modern satellite communication networks. Chloe said he had been helping her decipher signals that had arrived from outer space the same day Clark's spaceship had landed in Smallville thirteen years earlier. Doctor Swann and Chloe must have had some success, thought Clark, or else Chloe wouldn't have suggested both back in the storm cellar and again in her message from the future that Clark should talk to the man.

Realizing it was pointless to sit there and speculate when all the answers might be just a simple phone call away; Clark finally clicked the cell phone on and lifted it to his ear.

"Call Doctor Virgil Swann," Clark stated into the phone in a slow clear voice.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

"Hello?" said the answering male voice in a tone that was hardly above a whisper.

"Ahh, hi. My name is Clark Kent. I would like to speak with Doctor Swann, please."

"Hello, Clark. . . . . This is . . . Doctor Swann."

Clark hadn't expected a billionaire like Swann to answer his own phone. But then who knew what special arrangement Chloe had with the man. With all of her connections and resources, it was certainly possible she would have access to his personal, private cell phone number.

"Umm, I am a close friend of Chloe Sullivan. I'm afraid she is in trouble and she suggested you might be able to help me."

"Yes, Clark . . . I have . . . been waiting . . . for your . . . call."

When Doctor Swann had first answered, Clark had thought they had a bad connection. But now after this second remark, he was certain there was something wrong with the man. He was definitely pausing after every couple of words to catch his breath.

Then Clark got passed Swann's strange speaking cadence and his words sunk in. He said he had been waiting for Clark's call. But how could that be possible when the events which would cause Clark to seek him out wouldn't even occur for two more days?

Seeming to understand Clark's confusion, the voice on the phone continued. "Clark . . . there are . . . things we need . . . to discuss . . . but it would . . . be best face . . . to face. . . . When could you . . . visit me?"

"I can be there as soon as it would be convenient for you, Doctor Swann. I am currently in Central Park right across the street from the Museum entrance."

"Very good . . . Clark . . . Now would . . . be fine . . . Inside the . . . . entrance there . . . there is a bank . . . of elevators . . . to the left . . . Use the . . . rightmost one . . . Place your left . . . thumb . . . two inches . . above the top . . . button . . . It will . . .read your . . . fingerprint . . . and take you . . . to my private . . . level."

Read my fingerprint? Doctor Swann really wasn't kidding when he said he was expecting me, thought Clark.

"Okay," answered Clark. "I should be there in ten minutes."

"Good . . . Clark . . . See you . . . then."

Before Clark could say or ask anything further, the phone clicked off from the other end.

Clark lowered the phone and then stared at it for a minute. What was going on? Swann seemed to know a lot more about him than he should. Clark was certain Chloe would never have revealed his secret to this stranger. And he couldn't imagine how knowing the signal Chloe had captured on the long ago day of his arrival was related specifically to him would help in deciphering it. But then if they had been able to decipher the message, perhaps it had somehow given him away - although surely Chloe would have told him, if she and Swann had deciphered the message. Or had Swann decoded it without letting Chloe know? What did he really know about Swann beyond the couple of terse comments by Chloe telling him to go see the man? He realized his mind was going in circles and he needed to just do it – talk to Swann.

Rising to his feet, he slipped the phone into his pants pocket and turned in the direction of the museum. It was a walk of less than thirty seconds to reach traffic-filled Central Park West which separated him from his destination. Forty feet to his left was the cross-walk where a dozen other pedestrians waited for the light to change. He had just walked up to join them when the 'Walk' sign turned green.

As he crossed the street, he looked up at the imposing entrance to the Museum with four tall Greek columns flanking the main door. His flight around the building had highlighted on the other sides its turrets and crenellated roofline which is what had made him think it belonged back in Germany. But from this angle, it most reminded him of Chloe's palace back in ancient Rome – in particular the entrance to her Greek Library. Was he already reaching the point in life where everywhere he went would remind him of somewhere he had already been?

Stepping from the street onto the wide sidewalk in front of the recessed entrance, Clark paused for a moment to watch a work crew unfurl a large canvas banner above the main entrance. Two banners were already hanging from each side; one exclaiming a special exhibit about ancient fossils of Vietnam and the other highlighting the Hall of Ocean Life. Then the central banner came scrolling down with a giant stylized painting of a large black rock racing toward the planet Earth in the background. Across the bottom it read: 'See the All New Hall of Meteorites!''

Hall of Meteorites? Clark got a queasy feeling just looking at the sign. If they had meteorites, they doubtlessly had some from Smallville since it had been the biggest shower to hit the United States in the last hundred years. He almost dreaded going into the building. But even more he suddenly was concerned about Sliviuh. Did she know about this exhibit? He thought he was reasonably safe from her until he got back to Smallville, but now he wasn't as certain. Hopefully the message she had scrawled on the dumpster was just a mind game to distract him while she headed in a completely different direction. Then he remembered the thousands of sailors she had mentally enslaved back on the battleship. She wouldn't confront him one-on-one even with a meteor rock in her possession; it wasn't her style. No, she would round up a thousand men, give each of them a rock, and let them do the dirty work. Only once she was certain Clark was subdued would Sliviuh make her appearance.

Clark couldn't quite suppress the shudder which passed through his body at the sudden mental image of himself standing at the center of Smallville High's football field with thousands of men converging on him each holding a glowing green piece of Kryptonite high and shouting in unison, 'Be afraid, Clark. Be very afraid.' Saving Chloe was becoming more and more urgent. With a final glance at the large banner, Clark hurried through the museum's entrance.

Inside the cool air-conditioned lobby of the museum, Clark's eyes immediately darted to the left and found the bank of elevators Swann had mentioned. There were four in all and seven people were already queued up waiting for the next car. As Clark walked over to join the others, he scanned the lobby for signs leading to the various exhibit halls. Quickly he found the one for the meteorites and marked in his mind that it pointed off to the right. He definitely was going to avoid that end of the Museum if at all possible.

The first elevator to arrive was the second from the left. After disgorging its current passengers, the other seven people moved aboard. The last man courteously held his hand across the door to keep it from closing while glancing at Clark. When Clark shook his head, the man nodded and let the door slide closed.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Clark stepped forward and pressed the up button to call another car. In the end he had to wait for two more before the rightmost one finally made an appearance. At the same time two girls, who looked to be about fourteen, walked up and followed him in.

"What floor?" Clark asked.

"Three, please," answered the blonde, as her friend with the red hair leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which caused them both to start giggling.

Clark pressed the 'three' button glad they hadn't asked for the top floor. Then after pressing 'four' for himself, he tried to casually slide his hand up the wall a little higher as though to support part of his weight while pressing his thumb against the spot Swann had indicated. On the surface there was nothing to indicate this spot on the stainless steel wall was any different than any other, but after a brief inspection with his x-ray vision Clark clearly saw the buried sensor.

The old elevator seemed to take forever to reach the third floor and the whole way Clark could feel the girls' eyes and hear their giggles and whispers. For a moment he wished he could turn down his enhanced hearing as what the girls were saying was down right embarrassing. He could feel the back of his neck start to turn red in response and then the blush threatened to spread onto his face. 'How weird is that?' He thought. 'You could probably dip me in molten lava and my skin would look just the same. Yet two young girls whispering about the cuteness of my butt causes a not very subtle reaction.'

Finally, the doors opened on three and after a last lingering look the girls stepped out and no one got in. Clark sighed as the doors slid shut and then reached up and planted his thumb on the indicated spot again for good measure.

The mechanism seemed to understand there was now only a single passenger and went straight to the fifth level without stopping at four. When the door slid open, Clark stepped out into an alcove with tall windows overlooking Central Park. The solitary exit was a long corridor leading off to the left in the opposite direction from the Park.

Now that his goal was almost in sight, Clark set off down the corridor with a determined stride. The corridor was tall with fifteen foot ceilings. Every ten feet the wall was interrupted by a pair of tall windows. The ones on the right gave a view of Roosevelt Park on the north side of the Museum. The ones on the left gave a view of the skyscraper-lined southern end of Manhattan. Between each set of windows were large painted portraits. Based on the telescopes prominently on display in each one, it was obvious these were all famous astronomers. And also spaced along the hundred foot long corridor were a collection of antique telescopes, astrolabes, and sextants.

At the end of the corridor a large set of double doors stood braced open. The room beyond was large, at least sixty by sixty feet. And it was only dimly light by a few widely spaced tall windows which threw brilliant shafts of light across the room but left many areas in shadows. And from what was readily visible in the well-lit areas, the room was filled with a giant collection of antique mechanical and optical devices of which the few items in the corridor were but a small overflow.

Stepping into the room, Clark called out. "Doctor Swann? It is Clark Kent."

For a moment Clark saw nothing. Then he heard movement down at the far end of the room. Gradually, he saw and heard something slowly moving towards him through the shadows, occasionally turning left and right as it wove through the cluttered aisles of old scientific apparatuses. At first Clark couldn't understand what he was seeing because the movement wasn't tall enough to be a man walking. Then he recognized what he was seeing was a wheelchair. And he also realized what he was hearing was more than a simple electric motor driving the chair. No, the other, overlaid sound had to be some kind of respirator. And suddenly Swann's strange speech pattern became clear.

Slowly the wheel chair continued its plodding approach, but Clark seemed frozen in his spot and could only wait for its arrival.

Suddenly, as it was about to turn the last corner which would bring the chair and its occupant into clear view, a mechanically amplified voice called out. "Welcome, Clark."

Then the chair turned the corner and simultaneously passed into a shaft of light from one of the windows giving Clark a clear view of its broken and battered occupant. The man looked old and in addition to the breathing tube attached to his throat numerous other tubes were connected to his exposed right forearm.

There was something oddly familiar about him, Clark thought, although he was certain he had never seen a photo of the reclusive Billionaire. Then the horror truly struck home as Clark realized why he looked so familiar, Clark had seen him healthy and whole less than ten minutes earlier. The severely damaged man in the chair, the mysterious Doctor Virgil Swann, was Var-El of Krypton.

End of Chapter 21

Author's Notes

It has been a long time since we heard from Lana, last seen in turn of the century Montana. So I decided it was an appropriate time and place to bring her more fully back into the story. Since she was trapped in a world where magic is possible, I wondered how things would have evolved over a long period of time there. Wanting to tie in earlier things in the story for continuity, I thought about the numerous associations between Chloe and sphinxes and lions. And then the several references I had made to the scene in the cemetery in the series pilot episode where Clark stood in front of the statue of the angel so it looked as though he had wings. And finally the several earlier references to Dante's Inferno. So I decided it might be fun to write my own little riff on Dante's Inferno by sending Lana on a trip through Hades. Plus by bringing Lana back into the story now, it gave me an opportunity to throw in a rationale as to why Sliviuh needed to head straight back to Smallville rather than disappearing from view until she could consolidate her powerbase. Hmm, whose body should Sliviuh make a try for? Chloe or someone else?

At the moment I am thinking there will be two more chapters before winding up this arc of the story. The next chapter will focus on Clark & Var-El and in it Clark will take another big step forward on his journey to become Superman. Then in the final chapter all of the players will be drawn back to the events in the Kent's storm cellar, or shortly thereafter, for the final confrontation.

I hope you enjoyed this somewhat different chapter,

Duane