February 6, 1995
"So, what do you think?" Martha asked from her spot on the bed.
"I'm not sure yet. This whole idea seems really...silly...to me," Clark answered, sounding uncomfortable and resigned.
He emerged from the bathroom, wearing the latest of his mother's creations. Lois' eyes grew wide. Her mouth opened slightly, but she did not speak. She stood, leaving her spot on the bed next to Clark's mom.
"See?" Clark said, gesturing to his outfit. "I look ridiculous."
"No," Lois said breathlessly and shaking her head. "You look incredible." She ran her finger over the well-defined bulge of his bicep.
Clark frowned, still not convinced. "Really?"
"Really," Lois said, nodding.
The Spandex suit clung to Clark like a second skin. They had tried a number of other fabrics and colors, but none had seemed right. But this vibrant shade of blue somehow felt like the right choice. The added splashes of red distracted the eye, but that was part of the plan. The simple yellow belt at the top of the red briefs seemed to temper the abrupt change in color. And yet...
"I don't know. I feel like something's missing." Lois ran her hand over Clark's muscled chest. The diamond on her finger flashed brilliantly. Clark saw it in the reflection of the full length mirror he was looking in and smiled at her. "Some sort of...I don't know. Emblem? Symbol? Something to announce to the world just who you are."
"Do we really want to do that?" Clark asked, arching his eyebrow. "Not that this outfit is subtle. I've owned quieter Hawaiian shirts." He turned, examining the heavy cape. "And this cape...kinda...pretentious, don't you think?
"Of course we do," Lois said addressing his first question, and stilling his movements with a quick squeeze of his body. "We need to give you an identity that people will associate with the suit. You know as well as I do that there are at least a dozen different names that the fire victims at Lex Tower are calling their mysterious savior. Demon, angel, ghost, Jesus Christ in His second coming. There are even reports of a real live wizard being there." Lois scoffed at the absurdity of it all. "Whatever we put on your suit will tell people who you are. They won't ever associate the man in blue with Clark Kent. Because it won't be you. It will be...whoever your new identity is."
Clark nodded. "I guess...you have a point."
"I know I do. So, any ideas?"
Clark thought for a moment. "Actually, I do. Mom, do you think you could make one last change to the suit?"
"Sure, honey," Martha said. "But what'd you have in mind?"
Clark grabbed a sheet of paper off the top of the dresser. With sure strokes, he sketched out a design. A design he'd worn as a child. A slightly exaggerated S within an almost diamond shape.
"This," he said, holding it up for their inspection. "The El family crest."
"Clark, honey, are you sure you're okay with that symbol?" Martha asked hesitantly. "After all it once meant, I mean."
"I'm sure," Clark replied, nodding. "Look, I know what Trask tried to make this S a symbol of. If he'd had his way, this sigil would have stood for death and destruction. I know he used it as a way to try and dehumanize me. I've had to come to terms with that, and I have. He was a sick man. But I know now that this S is so much more than what Cameron once made it...or, tried to make it. This S, this crest of El, is a part of me. Not as Specimen S, but as Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara, last surviving child of a noble race of people. From this day on, I'm taking back what is rightfully mine, changing this S from Cameron's warped vision of it. From now on, this S no longer brands a would-be super soldier in a twisted war in a psychopath's mind. Now it stands as a beacon of hope, of help, of truth and justice."
"I'm proud of you, son," Jonathan said, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed before his chest. "Possibly more now than I've ever been."
"Thanks, Dad," Clark said, giving Jonathan a smile.
Not long afterward, Clark put on the modified suit. It now proudly boasted the sigil of Clark's heritage on the chest in gold and red, and in contrasting gold threads on the back of the cape. As he gazed into the mirror image of himself, he couldn't help but to feel a little strange. The suit itself felt odd and left him feeling uncomfortably exposed. But it was the crest on his chest that had his emotions surging, even though he himself had chosen to wear it.
For so long, the symbol had been a source of shame to him. It had been a brand, a marker, a sign that had indicated him as Trask's property. It had been as bad as the number on a prisoner's garb or the arm tattoos of those poor souls in Nazi Germany. But now, thanks to the messages Jor-El had left for him in the globe, Clark knew the proud heritage behind the sigil. For the first time in looking at the S on his body, Clark smiled and felt honored to display it across the whole of his broad chest.
"Well? What do you think?" he asked, turning to face his parents and fiancée.
"You look...super," Lois said, smiling at him. "Wait! That's it!"
"That's what?" Clark asked, confused.
"Your new identity. Superman!"
February 14, 1995
Help! Somebody help!
The screams hit Clark's ears clear as a bell. His head snapped up from its position, bent over his keyboard as he diligently worked on an article. Across from him, Lois was on the phone, turned partially away from him. She was speaking a mile a minute to whoever was on the other end. Whoever she was talking to must have hung up. She swore lightly under her breath and slammed the receiver down into its cradle.
Clark hesitated, listening to the cry for help. He hadn't yet dared to make his public debut with his new identity. But as he listened, the single shout became many. Clark could hear the fear and panic in the myriad voices. He stared to stand, listening intently. Lois saw the faraway look in his eyes as she came closer, and recognized immediately what was going on.
"Clark? What is it?" she asked, only loudly enough for him to hear.
"I'm not sure. But it's big," he replied, a pensive look on his face. "Wait...it's a ship. It's sinking," he said, as he put the clues, held within the screams, together. "Must be in the harbor. I think it's time for the world to meet Superman," he whispered in her ear.
"Go," Lois urged him. "I'll meet you down there."
He nodded sharply, then headed toward the stairwell. Ever since his decision to give Lois' idea a try, he had fooled around with different ways to change into the blue, red, and yellow suit. He loosened his tie as he went, spinning into his alter ego once he hit the roof, and taking off like a rocket. He made a beeline toward the waterfront, his hearing tuned into the pleas for help, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the disabled ship.
At last, he had it. He increased his speed, tearing through the cloudless blue sky. A sonic boom rang out in the wake of his passing, startling the people on the streets below. In seconds, he was over the Metropolis Harbor, where a mid-sized cruise ship was stranded out in the waves, one end rapidly rising into the air as the opposite side sank beneath the icy water. Clark stopped short as soon as he was alongside the crippled vessel. He scanned the ship, assessing the situation as quickly as he could.
There had to be close to five hundred couples aboard the ship, out for a Valentine's Day cruise around the harbor. Clark had wanted to take Lois on the same cruise, but had been unable to get tickets for it, since people booked a year or more in advance. In any case, it was far too many people to evacuate individually. The boat would be underwater before he would be able to rescue half of them, even with the help of his super speed to ferry them to shore. And, he knew, that was if the people aboard went with him willingly. He didn't doubt that most of them would panic even further if he tried to scoop them up to fly them to safety.
Some of the people on deck spotted him, floating there, not a hundred feet away. They pointed, alerting their neighbors to the flying man. Some people screamed when they saw him, their fear stoked to new heights at the unearthly sight. "Angel of death," he heard some crying, making the sign of the cross before themselves. Others pleaded for his help. "Godsend," he heard them say, or "angel." Clark floated a little closer and spoke.
"Everyone just stay calm," he said, letting his voice take on a note of distinct leadership. He had to yell it out, just to be heard over the din onboard. "I'm here to help you. Everyone go inside and grab hold of something that's fixed down. Stay away from the railings, no matter what."
He scanned again, not bothering to see if people were following his instructions, going deeper with his vision, beneath the waves. There he saw the reason for the ship's distress. A large hole had been torn in the hull, straight through the ship. It was taking on water, fast. Clark made the only decision he could. He took a deep breath, held it, and went into a dive, dropping like a stone from the heavens, beneath the water until he was below the ship. He swam to the dead center of the vessel, then started to lift. He only hoped that he would have the strength to accomplish his goal. He'd never attempted to lift something so large and heavy before.
Muscles straining only the slightest bit, he started to fly once more. Straight up he went, like an arrow loosed from a bowstring. The ship rose with him, until, at last, he reached the surface. He continued to rise, water pouring from the hole in the hull like a waterfall, obscuring his vision. But after a moment, it ceased. Floating five feet above the gentle waves, Clark started for the piers. He went as slowly as he could, mindful of the precious cargo made of human lives in the ship above his head. He didn't want to jostle the boat or its occupants, nor did he want anyone who hadn't listened to his instructions to get away from the railings to fall overboard.
It was a painstaking process, bringing the cruise ship to port. But Clark was satisfied with the result. He kept his hearing trained on the thousand or so lives above him. He wanted to make sure that no one was hurt, or went into shock, or got spooked and decided to jump from the ship. In the end, no one did. Still, by the time he made it the ten miles from where he'd found the ship back to the docks, word of the strange phenomenon had spread like wildfire. Just about every television station and newspaper in the city had film crews, reporters, and photographers on the scene, not to mention the small army of curious bystanders crowded in behind them.
Clark ignored them all as he worked. He knew Lois was there, of course. Even with his hearing focused on the occupants of the ship he was carrying, he had picked up on her heartbeat toward the front of the crowd. A quick glance revealed her standing there, taking notes, with Jimmy by her side, his trusty camera snapping an endless series of photographs. He smiled to himself at that, then focused on the next leg of his rescue. He let himself lose some altitude, sinking back into the ice cold water of the harbor. He heard the crowd gasp as his head went beneath the surface. With infinite care, he lowered the ship down, until it rested on the sandy ocean floor. Then he was out of the water, inspecting his handiwork.
The vessel sat extremely low in the water, but there was no longer any danger that the water level would reach the passengers. He let out a small, concealed sigh of relief, deciding it was better if he didn't show much of his emotions to anyone, afraid he would do something to make himself look like Clark Kent. He flew up to the deck and landed lightly. His wet cape clung almost claustrophobically to him, dripping sea water behind him as he walked.
"What the hell are you?" the ship's captain asked, voicing the question louder than anyone else, though Clark had heard a few others mumbling things to the same effect.
"I'm just someone who wants to help," he said, giving the captain, crew, and passengers a friendly smile. "Is everyone all right? Does anyone need a doctor?" He searched the crowd, silently willing them to be truthful with him. When no one spoke up, he continued. "Captain, let's get these good people ashore, shall we?"
It didn't take Clark as long as he'd feared to help the people disembark from the ship. He kept a careful eye out, looking for obvious signs of injury, but saw none. The realization made him immensely happy. He'd made a difference, and this time, no one had died needlessly. Soon enough, the last people were off the ship and standing on shore, watching Clark. Teams of investigators came aboard the ship, and Clark spoke with them for a while, telling them about the damage to the ship's hull. Then he finally allowed himself to float off the deck of the vessel and hovered before the gathered crowd.
This was the part he was dreading.
He wanted nothing more than to fly off, and get the reactions of the crowd second-hand from Lois. But if he was establishing himself as a new individual in the city, it was for the best if he gave the press some carefully construed information, so that they didn't go digging for clues as to who he was. Clark braced himself as he moved before the crowd, awaiting the worst. Surely, they had to know that he wasn't human. Surely, they had to be afraid of the powerful being before them. Surely, they would reject him.
To his lasting surprise, a cheer ripped through the crowd, mixed with enthusiastic applause.
There was no fear evident in the crowd. There was admiration, gratitude, acceptance. There was warmth and love.
Then the onslaught began.
Microphones were thrust in his direction. Cameramen and photographers redoubled their efforts, the bright flashes almost making a strobe-like effect. Dozens of questions flew from every mouth; reporters, cruise passengers, and onlookers alike. Clark motioned with his hands for them to all settle down, then floated closer, until at last, he was just high enough off the ground for everyone to be able to see him.
"I'll answer your questions," he assured them, in a voice loud enough for the microphones to pick up and for the unaided ears of the crowd to hear. "But I'll have to take them one at a time, please."
As he'd expected, that only spurred the reporters on, each of them shouting out questions, trying to be the first one to get a quote from him. But one voice cut above all the others, as he had known it would.
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Who are you?"
"Who am I?" Clark smiled a little, musing over the question. "I'm someone who is here to help, in whatever ways I can. Someone who wants to make a difference."
"But, surely you have to have a name," Lois pressed, before anyone else could venture a question. "Everyone does."
"It doesn't matter what name I was given at birth. What matters is what I stand for. Truth. Justice. Because of that, there have been those who've called me Superman. It seems to have stuck." He shrugged.
"Superman! Archie Preston, Metropolis Star. What exactly are you? Some sort of robot?"
Clark chuckled. "No, Mr. Preston. I'm a flesh and blood man, like you. I just come from a distant planet, a place called Krypton."
"Superman! Lois Lane again! With what we've seen here today, it begs the question. Were you the one who aided people in the Lex Tower fire, not long ago?"
Clark nodded. "Yes, I was. I happened to be in the neighborhood when the fire caught my attention. I knew I could help, so I did."
"But, why then, didn't you come forward?"
"That's a good question, Miss Lane." He paused for effect, making it appear as though he was looking for the right words. "I'm not here for recognition or praise. I'm content to be the man in the shadows, so to speak. Besides, it took a lot of time and effort to get those people out of there, the building secured, and the fire relatively under control. I didn't have time to make my presence known or for the explanation such a disclosure would undoubtedly bring. Too many lives were at stake."
"And after the fire?" another reporter broke in. Clark recognized Tonya Binx, from the New Troy Herald.
"After the fire, I had other matters to attend to," he said, giving her a polite smile.
The questions kept flying, fast and furious. For a good half hour, he fielded them, patiently giving the people the answers they so desperately sought. It was easier than he'd anticipated, crafting his answers, giving the people the truth while protecting his true identity. In a way, he'd been doing it his entire life. This was simply on a grander scale. Eventually though, he ended the question and answer session, hearing yet another call for help. He was grateful for that call, being more than ready to get out of the public eye for a while.
"Excuse me," he apologized to the crowd. "I have to go."
"Superman! Wait!" called out Martin Reyes, from LNN. "Will we ever see you again?"
"Yes," Clark nodded, his smile ever-present. "I expect that you will. Metropolis is my home now."
"How can we contact you?" asked Isabella Stonard, from Wake Up Metropolis.
Clark gave her a half smile. "I'll be around. Now excuse me, I really do need to go. There are others who need me."
He took off at top speed, another sonic boom marking his passing. But he was all smiles. Despite his relative unease with being filmed and photographed, being questioned and having people clamoring for his attention, he was happy. It felt so good, so freeing, to finally be able to help people without having to worry about staying unseen. He could help more effectively this way.
And, he mused, not a single person had laughed at his costume. That in itself told him how willing the people of Metropolis were to not only accept, but embrace the alien in their midst. No one had made the connection that he resembled Clark Kent. That too, had surprised him. But it looked like Lois had been right, that no one would associate the man in blue with the dedicated reporter. He could not have asked for a more successful debut.
The next rescue he tended to was a four car pile-up just on the outskirts of the city. Clark had to literally tear the roof off one of the cars to reach the injured, bloodied occupants. They were too weak and too dazed to protest when he flew them to the hospital, leaving astonished police officers behind. He chuckled a little as he flew off, once the wrecked cars were cleared from the roadway and the passengers shuttled to the hospital.
Finally finished with his task, he flew back to the Planet. He landed lightly on the roof, then spun back into his work attire before heading for the bullpen. No one noticed as he jogged down the steps and then entered the newsroom. Lois met him at his desk. Around them, the place was in an uproar. Clark got the gist that everyone was talking about the phenomenon out in the harbor. He was free to exchange a few unobserved words with his fiancée.
"So?" Lois asked him, her voice a confidential whisper. "Where'd you go after the impromptu press conference?"
"Car wreck," he replied in the same tone. "No fatalities, but it was a close call. How's Perry taking the newest big news story?"
"He couldn't be happier if Elvis Presley walked through that door, alive and well, and started to serenade him. He's already demanding that the Planet get an exclusive with Superman."
Clark smiled. "I think we can handle that."
"He thinks you were with me the whole time, by the way."
"Thanks, I appreciate the cover."
"We're going to be doing this a lot, huh? Me covering while you go out and do your thing?"
Clark shrugged. "Assuming I keep...doing my thing."
"You are, aren't you? I mean, you did like being able to help, right? I could see it in your eyes."
Clark chuckled. "Lois, calm down. I'm just teasing you. Between you and me, I have it on very good authority that Superman is here to stay."
July 28, 1995
Clark had never been so happy, or so nervous, in all of his life. It was a struggle for him to keep his feet on the ground. It seemed so unnatural, for him to be bound to the Earth when his heart was soaring among the stars. But there were too many eyes upon him. He adjusted his glasses for the fourth time in as many minutes, then ran his hand through his hair.
"Nervous, CK?" Jimmy asked in a low whisper.
"Only that I'll mess up what I have to say," Clark said, grinning at his best friend.
Jimmy laughed lightly. "You? Nah. You know, CK, I'm so happy for you guys."
"Thanks, Jimmy. That means a lot to me."
"Until you came around, I'd never seen Lois so completely happy."
Clark was about to reply when the organist started to play. The rich, deep tones of the instrument rolled though the church, the familiar tune of "Here Comes The Bride" echoing in that small, intimate stone building. Clark could not help it as his heels left the marble floor in front of the altar, but he managed to make it look like a natural movement, as though he was merely rocking forward onto his toes. Not that anyone was looking in his direction anymore. Everyone's eyes, including his own, had been drawn to the back of the church, where Sam Lane was escorting Lois down the aisle.
Clark's breath caught in his throat. Lois was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, but today, her radiance was brought to a level he did not have words for. He knew his mouth was hanging half open, and he quickly fixed it into the biggest smile of his life. Lois' eyes swept the rows of family and friends once as she entered, then locked onto Clark's. Her smile was as big as the one on Clark's face.
It took a small eternity for Lois to reach Clark's side. He eased his impatience and nervousness by listening to her heartbeat, which was racing in anticipation. Still, the sound soothed him, as it always had. It was, he thought, his drug of choice. Finally, she reached him and he took her hand.
"You look incredible," he whispered to her.
"Thanks. You look pretty amazing yourself. You'll be lucky if I don't make you wear a tux all the time." She winked at him and he chuckled softly.
They turned and faced the priest. The man raised his voice and solemnly began the marriage ceremony. Clark became more and more excited with every passing second. Each word that Father Baker said brought him closer and closer to being Lois' husband. By the time they reached their vows, Clark was nearly bursting in anticipation.
The priest looked to Clark. Clark cleared his throat subtly, then began his vows.
"Lois, from the moment I first saw you, I have loved you. From the first words we exchanged, you held my heart with an unbreakable bond. You have given me a home and a life beyond anything I could have ever dreamed. You are my best friend and the woman I will love for the rest of my life. I am so in love with the person you are. Your passion, your humor, your determination. Today, I give myself completely to you as your husband. I will spend the rest of my days loving you, doing my utmost to make you happy, and making our future as perfect as I can."
Clark took the ring from Jimmy and slipped it reverently on Lois' finger, almost in a daze. The whole thing felt almost surreal, as though it couldn't possibly be happening to him, the man who'd once been destined to live alone, isolated from all of society. The priest shifted his gaze to Lois as Clark fell silent and still.
"Clark, you're my best friend. I never really knew what that meant until I met you. It made it so easy to fall in love with you. Since the day we met, you've been the gentlest, most kind-hearted man I've ever known. When I'm with you, I am complete. I'm home, in a way I've never known before. Today, I give you my heart, my love, my fidelity, and the life that we'll make together. My life will be spent loving you, supporting you, and admiring you."
Lois fell quiet as well. She took the ring from Lucy and slipped it onto Clark's finger, with a touch as light and delicate as a butterfly's wing. Clark could see a sheen of unshed, but happy, tears pooled in her deep brown eyes. He smiled gently at her, and she returned it with one of her own. A smile grew on Father Baker's face as well.
"Lois, Clark, it is my honor, by the powers vested in me, to pronounce you husband and wife. Clark, you may now kiss your bride."
Lois practically flung herself into Clark's waiting arms. He kissed her deeply, his heart nearly bursting with love, knowing that he was now forever bound to the other half of his soul.
May 9, 2196
Tempus emerged in Centennial Park via the time window held cradled in his hand. He'd been so busy, what with jumping from time to time, universe to universe. He still wasn't sure how Herb kept it all straight in his head. It was damn confusing, if you asked him. But, a man had to do what a man had to do. And he was determined to see his experiments through to the end.
It had been a while since he had last had an opportunity to check in on this universe. The last time he'd been here, he'd found Jason Trask and handed him Kal-El's identity on a silver platter. The man would have to have been a galactic screw-up to let Kent slip through his fingers.
Tempus smiled to himself. Oh, how he wished he could have been there to see it. Kal-El, that blasted last son of Krypton, exposed as Clark Kent. Trask, so ready, so eager, to break the man's mind, turning him into a slave...or kill him in trying. And when that happened, this universe would become a world without Superman. Without Superman, Utopia would never be.
Tempus rounded the corner of the small, neatly kept brick building that housed a set of public restrooms. He frowned as he did so. He anticipated seeing graffiti on the bricks, but the building was clean as fresh fallen snow. The grass was mowed and free of debris. People strolled by idly, without worry or care.
"Oh no," Tempus muttered under his breath. "This doesn't bode well."
How had that moron Trask managed to mess things up? Kal-El should have either been the destroyer of the world or dead. But this place...it was a mirror of the Utopia Tempus knew from his own universe. He quickened his pace, hastening to the spot where he would get his answer. He scowled as he walked, his face all but daring anyone to try and say a single pleasant word to him. No one took him up on the challenge, opting, instead, to give him a wide berth.
He all but ran to the all too familiar section of the park, hoping against hope not to see that damned statue. But there it was, proudly displayed for all to see. The statue that depicted Superman, in all his red and blue annoyance, with Lois Lane at his side, their adult children flanking them. Tempus stared in disbelief. It couldn't be true. He'd worked so hard to ensure that his plan came to fruition. Then, as he looked again, something about the statue started to seem a little off. He squinted, then opened his eyes again. He paced back and forth before the immaculate marble, hoping a new angle would clue him in.
"Oh no," he moaned aloud, as he finally pieced together just what was off about the tribute to the Man of Steel.
Instead of three Kent children, this statue boasted five.
Two older boys, a girl, then another boy and girl, obviously twins from their similar looks and exact same age. Tempus glanced at the polished, gleaming plaque below the immortalized family. It named the people in the statue. Kal-El, aka Clark Kent, aka Superman. Lois Lane, aka Lois Kent, aka Lois-El, once known as Ultra Woman. Michael Kent, aka Jon-El, aka Guardian. Hunter Kent, aka Jor-El, aka Sentinel. Rebecca Kent, aka Marla-El, aka Huntress. Ashley Kent, aka Luce-El, aka Shadow. Thomas Kent, aka Sam-El, aka Warrior.
Tempus gritted his teeth and kept reading. It seemed that in this universe, Lois and Clark had gotten together much sooner, and with far fewer problems than in his own world. They had married sooner as well, and that had led to the children being born earlier than their parallel counterparts. And that, in turn, had apparently led to the birth of the twins.
Tempus balled his fists, fighting down the overwhelming urge to scream. He could read between the lines of the plaque well enough. Everything he had done had been for nothing. Everything he'd done had backfired. Instead of driving Lois and Clark permanently apart, circumstances had drawn them together. Instead of death claiming one or both of them, they had survived and thrived. And instead of creating a super soldier, he had inadvertently created a Superman who was even more determined to bring about peace to the world than the Boy Scout of his own world.
The experiment, so carefully construed, was an utter and abject failure. Tempus thought about using his time window to go and find this universe's Superman and a chunk or two of Kryptonite. But it was only a passing thought, and he did not act on it. If he'd learned anything from all the universes he'd toyed with thus far, it was that once Superman made an appearance, no matter for how brief a time, Utopia was an inevitability.
Tempus looked again at the statue with such anger it almost could have melted the stone. Then he sighed. It was ironic, he thought. All of his actions in this world had only worked to ensure Superman's victory. God, how he despised irony sometimes.
No matter though. There were plenty of other universes left to experiment in.
The End.