A/N: Thanks to leathman for his review. How are the rest of you guys enjoying the story?
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this chapter except Loretta Lane. There are a few Easter eggs, but I don't own those either.
Chapter X: In Troubled Times
31 October 2998
Putting away the expense reports he'd just finished reviewing, Lon Norg decided to take a short break before tackling the early information his investigators had managed to obtain in the ongoing case of Mayor Fleming's murder. In a long line of high-profile homicides, Fleming's was the most conspicuous both because it was the most recent and because she had been the most powerful person in New Metropolis. The latter was a mere technicality – Lon knew as well as anyone in his department that Fleming had been a figurehead and someone else had been pulling the strings from within her cabinet. The probable corruption within New Metropolis' government was just another problem on his already congested list of issues – among them the recent murders, NMPD's manpower shortage, the impending arrival of R.J. Brande, the press' apparent vendetta against the Science Police, and his still-missing son – all of which seemed to demand his immediate attention. Lon hadn't had a free day since he was appointed Chief of NMPD, and he was convinced that he wouldn't until the time when he finally decided to step down.
Yet for all the difficulties that came with his post, Lon knew he wouldn't retire until he had done all he could to solve them. His total commitment to his job and to keeping New Metropolis safe had resulted in his having little time for Lyle, so Lyle was predominantly raised by their good friends the Foccarts after Lon's wife died when Lyle was three. The Foccarts had since moved away from New Metropolis, but their departure happened to coincide with Lon's increasing interaction with Titanian Ambassador Sydne Ardeen. The sheer amount of business Lon and Sydne conducted with each other during the earlier part of the decade had resulted in them becoming friends, and their children also struck up a close camaraderie during Imra's brief visits to Earth between her psychic training on Titan. Lon knew both Sydne and Imra very well by now, and Lyle and Imra viewed each other as siblings.
Lon knew from several unanswered calls that he would be unlikely to hear from Lyle anytime soon – especially if, as he suspected, his son was on another mission for Earthgov – but he wondered if he ought to call and check up on what Imra was doing. He hadn't heard a peep from her ever since she'd come to his office with Rokk Krinn and another boy to insist that the Botanic Gardens incident wasn't an accident, and that Mayor Fleming was the target of a serial killer. For all he knew she was investigating it on her own – she was certainly willful enough to do it, and she'd clearly done some digging to come up with the theory she'd presented to him.
In all fairness, Imra had turned out to be right about Mayor Fleming, and Lon was beginning to suspect that she was right about the Botanic Gardens and the serial killer as well. Consequently, when he heard that Fleming had been murdered, he ordered Homicide to compile a list of similarities between the various murders in the last two weeks to see if the evidence was conclusive enough to prove that they were committed by the same person; he was expecting them to report back with their findings by today.
Of course, if Imra was right and it really was a serial killer, Lon hadn't the slightest clue how he would manage his department then, what with the mess the city's government was in at the moment and R.J. Brande due to arrive the day after tomorrow.
Just as Lon was about to call Imra, Captain Kimball Zendak, head of the Homicide Division, rapped on the proofed (bulletproof, laserproof, soundproof, etc.) glass surrounding his office. Lon waved him in at once; the captain had an expression on his face that meant bad news was to follow, and Lon had a feeling he knew what it was. He groaned audibly as Zendak entered the room.
"We're in trouble, aren't we?"
"Up to our necks," Zendak agreed solemnly, handing over the e-paper report that bore the indomitable proof of said trouble. "The evidence is conclusive; we have a serial killer on our hands."
"A serial killer who's targeting New Metropolis' rich and famous," Lon noted, only skimming the report to confirm what he already knew. He sighed. "I can already imagine what Loretta Lane will come up with this time."
"How did we miss this?" Zendak wondered.
Lon's response was snippy. "We're understaffed; what do you expect? People expect us to be freaking miracle workers but Sci-Pol Sol won't send us the necessary reinforcements. It's as if they still think we have Superman around to help us do our jobs."
Zendak blinked. "Are you saying we need capes?" Lon Norg had earned his position with his strong conviction that ordinary police could do just as much as the famed heroes of old to protect the city.
"No," Lon denied vehemently. "What we do need is for the higher-ups to realize that New Metropolis is a very large city which requires a very large police force, and for them to stop assigning all the East Coast's reinforcements to Neo-Gotham. For God's sake, half the recruits going to Neo-Gotham graduated from our Academy."
"We'll make sure to mention that in our next annual review to Sci-Pol Sol," said Zendak dryly. "In the meantime, I need to know what your orders are for my division."
Lon rubbed his temples. "Revamp the investigation as a serial homicide case. Assemble a single task force to take charge and reassign all those who've been working the cases separately." The only good thing about the existence of the serial killer was that it eased the manpower shortage somewhat, as it allowed NMPD to commit just one group to solving it, instead of having multiple teams trying to solve different murders.
"Yes, sir." Zendak left to carry out his orders, and Lon turned back to the file on the Fleming murder.
Loretta Lane mulled over a recent article of hers, critically analyzing the language and style in her mind as she made her way to her closet to select her wardrobe for tomorrow's ceremony. By the time she switched on the image simulator and started rifling through holograms of what she would look like in certain clothes, she had started thinking about what she would say as she received her Pulitzer Prize.
The journalism award started by Joseph Pulitzer in 1917 was still one of the most distinguished accolades a writer could receive, even after more than a millennium. The awarding of the Pulitzer had been shifted from April to November in the 26th century for a reason that no one remembered now, but its eminence in the reporting world had not diminished in the slightest. The Pulitzers had a long and proud history; Loretta's venerable ancestor, Lois Lane, had received an astonishing total of seven Pulitzer Prizes in her distinguished career, and her husband Clark Kent had pulled in four of the coveted awards himself – and in addition to their individual medals, Clark and Lois shared two Pulitzers jointly for articles they'd written together. Of course, Clark was more remembered now for being Superman, but Loretta identified far more closely with her reporting heritage than her superhero ancestry.
Tomorrow she would receive her very first Pulitzer, and, if Loretta had anything to do with it, it would be the first of many. It was an important point in her career and she was determined to look her best.
The buzz of her apartment doorbell interrupted the speech she was constructing in her head, and Loretta abandoned her consideration of a rather fetching periwinkle pantsuit to check who it was. She was instantly wary when a glance at the visitor footage revealed three strangers – she was very much aware that her status as Superman's descendant and as a reporter had made her her fair share of enemies – but when a closer inspection showed that one of the visitors was missing Magnetic Knight captain Rokk Krinn, her reporter's instincts took over. If she could secure an interview with him the resulting article could be her next Pulitzer.
With a tap of her fingers she unlocked the door for them. "Hello," she said brightly. "How can I help you?" She was somewhat startled to realize that she also recognized the only girl in the group, though not by name – she knew her to be Ambassador Sydne Ardeen's daughter. "Well," said Loretta, recovering her composure very quickly. "What brings a galactic sports star and an ambassador's daughter to my doorstep?"
The last member of the group, a redhead with a faint lightning-shaped scar across his right eye, looked marginally put out that he was not acknowledged until Loretta glanced at him and asked, "Who's your friend?"
"This is Garth Ranzz and Imra Ardeen," said Rokk, taking charge, "and I'm Rokk Krinn."
Loretta already knew this, of course, but she nodded politely. "Welcome to my apartment. What can I do for you?"
"May we come in?" Imra requested. "We have something important to tell you."
Loretta graciously opened the door wider to admit them entry. "Can I get you anything?" she asked as they settled themselves on the couch. "Tea, soda, coffee?"
"No, thanks," said Garth. "We're good."
"Okay." Curiosity piqued, Loretta sat down in the armchair across from them. "What's this about?"
"You may find this hard to believe, Ms. Lane," began Rokk, "but we have reason to believe that someone means to kill you at the Pulitzer ceremony tomorrow."
Loretta showed no surprise at this – in fact, the only sign that she had heard what Rokk said was the arch of her eyebrow. "On the contrary, I actually find that quite easy to believe," she admitted. "But how do you know this?"
Her three visitors launched into a summary of the investigation they'd been carrying out and how they had determined that she was the next victim.
"We decided to warn you in person after we were unable to save Mayor Fleming with an anonymous tip," Imra finished.
"Sci-Pol inefficiency strikes again," Loretta remarked.
"Indeed," Garth agreed. Loretta clearly shared his disdain for the Science Police.
"They're not that bad," Imra protested.
"Oh, I know that," Loretta conceded. "The Science Police do quite a good job for the most part – but you must understand, growing up with tales of Superman and the Justice League, it's sometimes hard for me to reconcile with the idea that a conventional police force is enough to protect the community."
"It must be fascinating, having private stories of the Age of Heroes passed down within your family for generations." Rokk sounded enthralled.
"Sometimes." Loretta's tone was wry. "Sometimes it's just a pain."
"How so?" Garth queried.
"My ancestors were two of the greatest people to ever walk the Earth, and they associated with dozens of other equally great people. As their descendant, everyone expects me to live up to that. It can be a heavy burden to bear that legacy when people tend to measure everything I do against the deeds of Superman and Lois Lane – or any of their other heroic offspring."
Imra looked thoughtful. "I never thought of it that way."
Loretta smiled. "Few people do." She cleared her throat. "Now, to get back on topic, you say all the murders are the work of a serial killer?"
Rokk nodded. "We think it's someone with a grudge against the rich and the famous."
Loretta nodded. "Yes, I thought so. All fairness to NMPD, though – they thought so too, but until Mayor Fleming was killed they didn't have enough evidence to say so with any conviction."
"Wait, you mean they're actually investigating this thing as a serial murder case now?" Garth sat up straight.
Loretta nodded. "Yes, they are. So," she said, "What do you propose I do? To stay alive, I mean." She looked at them expectantly.
"Well, this is just a suggestion," answered Garth, "but I'd strongly advise not going to the ceremony tomorrow."
Loretta's brows drew together. "But it's the most important event in my career to date."
"More important than your life?" Rokk asked softly.
Loretta sighed. "Look, I know I said it's a pain to try to live up to my legacy, but that doesn't mean I don't want to. Both Lois Lane and Clark Kent won the Pulitzer several times, and since any Kryptonian abilities in my bloodline were suppressed long ago, tomorrow is the closest I'll get to accomplishing what they did."
"We understand," said Imra. "But the Pulitzer will still be yours even if you don't accept it in public, and to be very frank, the best way to honor your legacy is to preserve your life so you can continue to live it."
"Yeah, I know." Loretta exhaled. "I suppose I could always feign illness and stay home."
"That might be a good idea," Rokk agreed. "All the murders have occurred at public events – you should be safe if you stay at home."
"Let's hope." Loretta eyed Rokk speculatively. "Would I be correct in assuming that you were the intended victim in the fiasco in the Botanic Gardens?"
Rokk inclined his head. "Guilty as charged. I was supposed to be victim number seven, but thanks to Imra and Garth here, I survived."
"Sounds like there's an interesting story there," Loretta remarked casually. "Mind if I ask some questions?" She was definitely in reporter mode now, highly reminiscent of her several-times-great grandmother.
Rokk smiled, obviously aware that she was angling for a story. "Maybe another time," he said, as he, Imra, and Garth rose as one. "We have an investigation to continue."
Loretta nodded in acquiescence. She knew when not to push. Some things were more important than a story. "I hope you catch the killer," she said as she showed them out of her apartment. "Who knows?" She winked conspiratorially. "Maybe you'll start a new crime-fighting team. Lord knows this city could use a new generation of capes."
"Another Justice League, you mean?" Garth surmised. "You really think the 30th century needs it?"
Loretta's violet eyes shone with a time long past as she replied, "The universe will always need heroes."
And with that, she closed the door.
A/A:
1. Kimball Zendak is an actual Sci-Pol captain from the comics.