FREEDOM OF THE PRESS
Part Four - Science Project
Clark groaned as he stretched out his leg painfully. He'd been curled up against the wall in his tiny cell for too long, and still the gas leeched out of vents in the concrete, making him queasy and weak as a kitten.
Dejectedly he wondered if there would be long-term effects from this continued exposure to a form of Kryptonite, not that it mattered if, as he suspected, Trask was eventually going to tire of this science project and simply kill him.
Maybe that's best, he thought, If I really am poisonous.
As he had done for days now, he mentally reviewed all the people whose lives he had saved, wondering if now they were doomed because of his touch. Of course he cared about every one of them, but three lives stood out from the multitude; three who had been around him more than anyone else, three he loved more than his own life.
Mom, Dad… Lois.
Would they suffer? Or was this the kind of toxin that simply killed, quietly and painlessly, like morphine?
Usually he would have been fighting to keep his spirits up, to be strong, to believe in Right and Good and True, but he'd been alone in the dark for ages, with only the woman's voice periodically cutting into his melancholy to order that he move to the door and bare his arm. A needle would spring out, slipping effortlessly into his vulnerable flesh and taking his alien blood away up a tube for study.
Clark had come to the optimistic belief that the woman was not all bad; certainly she didn't seem to fit in with Trask's despicable lot. She talked to him at least, and she certainly didn't have to keep him informed on the progress of her investigation. She spoke clearly, without malice or sarcasm, no taunts or threats, just neutrality. It was her very matter-of-fact manner which had led him into his current state of despair. If this whole 'poison' thing were a ruse to torment him or guilt-trip him into giving information he would have picked up on it. Superman was not easily lied to.
No, the scientist was truly researching the effects of his presence on the human population, and she had received frequent reports from Metropolis General hospital about the patients who had been admitted in the last couple of days.
She had told him of the twenty people who lay dying because of their contact with him, and asked him how he knew each of them. Clark told her of his move to Metropolis, how he had helped people subtly and secretively before the colourful hero was born and he was free to display his abilities. The sick people had met him then, not recently, and the scientist had found it interesting that the toxin had taken this long to effect the victims, and that they had all manifested the symptoms within a few days of each other. As far as any physician could make out, the people were suffering from radiation poisoning, and not, as previously suspected, some kind of transmissible virus. This lightened the weight on Clark's heart a little, for even those these poor folk may be doomed, the rest of the planet who hadn't been in contact with him were safe.
As long as Clark left Earth.
The scientist had mentioned this painful necessity in passing. One morning; Clark knew it was morning because the meal they fed him was some kind of bland cereal as opposed to the indeterminate meat-slop they fed him at night; the woman's exotic accent had drifted into his cell and casually informed him that one of the ill people had passed away in the night. She was a 78 year old woman Clark had saved from a car accident three years ago. The radiation sickness was too much for her frail body to recover from.
In anguish Clark apologised again and again, crying out for a solution, unable to bear that he was causing pain and death.
"Well, you cannot stay here." It was said so flatly it chilled Clark's heart to hear it. He must leave his home, his parents, Lois…
Hours later he was still absorbed in that grim possibility when he heard a click outside the door. It hadn't been opened once since he arrived! He struggled to his feet, every muscle groaning, a hope surging in his heart that he might be allowed to walk outside for a moment perhaps, or maybe even released on the condition that he quit this planet for good.
A moment later his hope died as he was greeted by the familiar sneer of Colonel Trask.
"How's the pet alien today, then?" he taunted, "Behaving yourself?"
"Where've you been off to Trask? Hunting more of 'my kind'?" Clark retorted bitterly.
"Oh no, in fact I've been hunting mine. The human traitors who kept you here, letting you fly around spreading your toxic radiation over the whole world."
Clark's stomach clenched in fear. Had Trask got his parents?
"I tracked them to a ranch in Montana, but they seem to be almost as good at hiding as you are, Mr. Kent. So I thought I'd come and have a chat with you about where they might run to--"
Clark braced himself for a hit of the Kryptonite which he knew Trask would have concealed on his person. The torture was about to begin…
"Colonel," Trask's crackling radio distorted the scientist's voice, "There is a reporter at the front gate. Remember this is just a lab, if we turn her away it looks suspicious."
Trask threw Clark a significant look, "It wouldn't be Lois Lane, by any chance?"
"Yes sir."
"Come looking for her lover, huh? Welcome her in, Doctor, and say all the right things, won't you?"
Clark could hear the woman's uncomfortable huff on the other end. He got the feeling she was not used to covert operations and lying to the media.
"I think I'll settle in for a while," Trask said, banging briefly on the door for a guard, who passed him in a folding chair, "I don't think Miss Lane would be so happy to see me here."
He made himself comfortable, ignoring Clark's piercing stare of hatred.
"Look, I'm not leaving till I see someone in that lab!" Lois tone brooked no opposition. "And put the gun down, you look ridiculous."
The guard on the front gate was just 19 years old, but his young face bore a determined scowl as he held his pistol out before him. He was under orders from someone much more important than this irritating reporter, someone who might very possibly have him posted to a base in Uzbekistan if he failed in his duty.
"With respect, Ma'am, you're in for a long wait. No one is permitted inside the facility without papers."
"Well, I am the papers, so that works."
"I'm sorry, but--" the Corporal's radio crackled and mumbled something Lois couldn't make out, but she was surprised to hear that it was a woman giving the orders.
"Ma'am, could you repeat that?" the soldier turned away briefly, then back to Lois with a frown that was almost petulant.
"Dr. Slomowitz wishes to see you Miss Lane." His tone was dead-pan, like he hadn't been arguing with her for the past twenty minutes. Lois's answering 'thank you' was nothing if not smug.
The young man led her through a series of security gates and sealed doors into an office which looked like it was hardly ever used. No stacks of papers, no desktop PC, a fake pot-plant. Behind the empty desk sat a woman around Lois' age, her hands folded in front of her, her expression coolly confident.
Like she's got nothing to hide, Lois thought, or wants me to believe that anyway.
"Miss Lane, from the Daily Planet, yes?" she rose and extended her hand. Lois took it, still subtly assessing the woman's body language at every moment, looking for the chink in the armour.
"Yes, Dr…? Sorry, I didn't catch the name, Sl- Slomo…?"
"Call me Katia, please."
"Okay, Katia, I'll get right to the point. Are you aware there was an explosion outside the Daily Planet building two days ago?"
"I think I heard something about it on the television, yes."
"A colleague of mine was hurt badly when a black van blew up, a van leased by your company." Lois tried to keep her tone neutral - she was here to interview, not to accuse, but right now her fear for Jimmy's life was threatening to turn her journalistic calm into a torrent of anger, especially when the doctor was being so blatantly evasive.
"I am sorry to hear it, Miss Lane, but I did not plant any bombs, I assure you."
"Just what kind of samples were being carried in this van anyway?"
"Well, we move the chemicals necessary for our research from their import warehouse to the lab, but none of them are dangerous or explosive. We would require much more complicated permits for that."
Lois sensed that this line of questioning wasn't going to get her anywhere. Instead, she tried another tack, watching Katia's face closely for an initial reaction which was the only grain of truth she was likely to get out of this meeting.
"And Superman?"
As Lois suspected, there was the briefest flicker of fear in the scientist's eyes at the mention of his name before the expected response.
"What about him?"
"It was your van that exploded. Makes sense that another of your vehicles took him away. Or was it one of Trask's trucks?"
Again a flash of recognition quickly suppressed told Lois that Katia was indeed working with the military nutcase. Lois' heartbeat quickened. Superman could be here, somewhere in this building…
Katia's expression quickly reverted to the 'brick wall' look.
"Miss Lane, this lab exists to try and find new cures and treatments for certain diseases. We are not interested in Superman or what may have happened to him since the fiasco at the Daily Planet. Now would you please leave me to my work."
Lois glared at the woman, a look that said she plainly didn't believe a word of it, and turned to go.
The media circus was on the move. After camping out at the Daily Planet following the news that mild-mannered reported Clark Kent was really the city's own superhero, their priorities suddenly changed when two events occurred in quick succession. At 8am, an unidentifiable disease which had recently put around twenty citizens into Intensive Care claimed its first life. The doctors were being very tight-lipped, saying only that cause of the old woman's death was a mystery at the moment.
Then, at noon the same day, another young reporter from the Planet was rushed into the ER with similar symptoms to the diseased. In the young man's car was a sheaf of notes from a case he was working on, and thus the news was broken that Josh Evans had been researching, and was now the newest case of 'super-sickness'.
Of course, everyone had heard the cryptic accusation made by the fanatical Colonel Trask that Superman's race had launched some kind of biological weapon against Earth, but it was not generally believed until these notes came to light.
Suddenly news channels were eagerly putting out the theory that anyone who had ever had any contact with Superman or his private persona, Clark Kent, might soon feel the effects of this new disease. Metro General's phones were quickly jammed with the flood of calls from frightened citizens, and the ER was crowded with people fearing for their lives.
The press, too, were now crammed into every available waiting area at the hospital, and causing a massive nuisance by asking non-stop questions of every doctor and interviewing those who had turned up in a panic.
Back at the Planet, Perry White stared at a headline he prayed he wouldn't have to send to press. This morning's had been, "MYSTERY ILLNESS CLAIMS FIRST LIFE", as Perry had refused to do what all the other papers had done and run the accusation that Superman was poison to the human race. Despite the evidence which seemed to be pointing to that conclusion, the editor knew in his gut that something untoward was going on in the city, and that the fickle public's sudden anger at the hero they loved three days ago was all part of Trask's plan.
That said, he wasn't going to be caught unprepared should the awful suspicion prove true. The headline before him was a much less pleasant, "SUPERMAN CAUSE OF SICKNESS".
He shook his head.
"Where the hell are you, Kent?" he muttered.
Dr. Katia Slomowitz hunched over her microscope again. The blood sample she squinted at only confounded her all the more. This slide had been rushed to her forty minutes ago, shortly after she had seen the Channel Nine news coverage of a new victim in this strange case.
This problem was that this victim completely invalidated her theory. So far all the sufferers of the disease, which she believed was being caused by the dejected alien she had in a cell three floors down, had presented with symptoms at around the same time, and all had met Clark Kent within six months of each other, before he even introduced himself to the world as Superman.
This new case, a Daily Planet reporter, had not even met Kent until this year, and as far as anyone knew, he had never been in contact with Superman.
"Kurva drt!" she swore at the sample. Why did it all have to go wrong now?
"Language, Doctor!" Trask's chiding tone drifted over to her from the door.
Katia looked up. The man had a smile on his face like a child with a new toy. She noticed the bloodstains on a handkerchief poking out from his top pocket and the obvious bulge of Kryptonite in his lower pocket. Silently she swallowed a wave of hatred for the sadistic bastard. Superman was helping with the investigation willingly; there was no need to beat any information out of him… but then, Katia knew that Trask didn't really care for anything the alien had to say.
"This latest case is anomalous, Colonel," She explained coolly, "The incubation period of the disease is inconsistent. In this latest victim, just a year, but what about Mr. and Mrs. Kent? They have been around Superman for twenty-seven years - they should be dead by now! This does not make sense!"
"I'm still searching for the Kents, but don't worry, I'll get them. I suspect they're probably aliens too; immune to the disease. Just keep working, Doctor. I'm sure you'll figure it out. And don't forget, when Superman is proven to be the source of the disease, you'll be generously rewarded for exposing this threat to the world!"
Katia glared at him, at his gloating grin, his malicious eyes. "By that you mean you won't have me deported and ruin my company?"
"I'm a generous man, Katia. Not everyone would put his military reputation on the line to bail out an illegal immigrant. Chemkya does good work, but Uncle Sam likes to see paperwork, remember?"
He smiled cruelly and swept out of the room, leaving Katia fuming. Six years she'd been living in the US, praying that her luck would hold, that her faked citizenship documents and pharmaceutical licence wouldn't be scrutinized too closely. Now thanks to Trask she was in way over her head, involved in kidnapping and much worse if Lois Lane's accusation about the exploding van was correct. Katia believed as much. Trask held the reins of her whole company now. Easy for him to take her van and use it to create more chaos. She dropped her head into her hands, wishing there was a way out of all of this.
There was, in fact, and he was sitting down below, presumably badly injured from Trask's beating. Superman could fix all this…
But the scientist in her couldn't let go of the puzzle at hand. What was this damned sickness? How did the alien effect these people? She had to know!
Grabbing her keys, she headed for the elevator.
Superman lay curled up in the middle of his cell, his head still pounding, his nose bleeding slightly less profusely now. He cradled his left hand protectively against his chest, the broken fingers sending spikes of pain up his arm.
He heard the door lock click again. Was Trask back for another round? He almost didn't care. There was no way he was giving up any information on his parents, no matter what was done to him.
"My God--" the gasp came from the door. Superman raised his head painfully and opened his eyes a crack.
The woman whose voice he had heard so frequently stepped quickly to his side and crouched down to wipe the blood from his face.
"Nice to meet you at last," Clark said, his voice cracking slightly.
"I'm Katia. I just came to ask you some questions." She helped Clark sit up and move over to rest against the wall of the cell.
"Why are you here in person this time? Has something happened? Did anyone else… die?"
Katia was amazed that he was still concentrating on the wellbeing of the sick people, even in his current condition. She knew she was not supposed to share any information with the alien - he was a prisoner, a study subject. But something about this whole outbreak scenario wasn't panning out right. She needed clarification, and for some reason Superman was the only one she felt able to communicate honestly with. He wasn't a maniac controlling her with threats, nor a reporter or official she had to keep secrets from.
Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the floor in front of him.
"Superman," she began haltingly.
"Please, call me Clark." He was still wearing his now very disgusting office attire after all.
"Alright, Clark. I will tell you everything I can and hope that you can help me."
Clark sat up straighter, ignoring the stab of pain it cost him to do so. He could see the eyes of this woman, and they shone with an earnest desire to put things right.
"The people who are sick in the hospital, they knew you a long time ago, maybe three years ago, correct?"
Clark nodded.
"But now there is this man Evans--"
"Josh Evans?" Clark interrupted, and at Katia's affirmative nod he felt another wave of sadness and guilt.
"This is why I am, how do you say, 'stumped' by this. So far Evans is more badly effected than any of the others! And to make matters worse, the press are now aware of the whole situation, causing a panic."
"What tipped them off?"
"The reporter had notes about some burglaries, and the link to you, I don't fully understand it…"
Clark did. A germ of an idea, a suspicion was dawning in his still splintered thoughts. The investigative reporter in him awoke, started to see connections, form conclusions…
"He must have been following up on my work. Before…" Clark shied away from even mentioning that traumatic afternoon when Trask exposed him to the world, "Before I was bought here, Lois and I were on our way to visit a list of addresses, all people I knew years ago, and I'll bet that those people are the infected people! So if Josh has been to each of their homes and then quickly fallen ill..."
"Then the toxin could be environmental, something in you that remained at these locations..." Katia finished for him.
"But, if it's environmental, then it might not be anything to do with me, but just made to look that way. By Trask." Clark said grimly, finally seeing the intricacy of the maniac's plan.
"Either way, I must go and find this substance." Katia said determinedly and rose to leave.
"Lois!" Clark blurted suddenly. The scientist turned to face him, puzzled.
"Call Lois, she can confirm the theory, because if it's contact with me that is toxic then she would be the worst effected! If not, then we know that I'm not the cause!"
"So you are lovers, then?"
Katia's comment caught Clark completely by surprise. He blushed bright red in an instant and began to bluster out an answer, but Katia cut him off with a wave of her hand and a sly smile.
"I thought as much. I will call her."
"Katia," Clark stopped her leaving a second time, "You gonna let me out of here?" He circled a hand, indicating the faint green gas that hung in the atmosphere. He'd endured its effects for so long now that it no longer sickened him, but he was only as strong as an ordinary man.
"I cannot. If Trask came back and found you gone, he would kill me, I am certain of it! Also, we do not know for sure if you are not the one causing the sickness. You may still be dangerous."
"You're in here with me," Clark pointed out, "Aren't you afraid for your own life?"
Katia looked a little confounded by that, but headed quickly to the door, pulling it firmly closed on her way out and ignoring Clark's shout of protest.
End of Part Four