-- Chapter 13 -- Ripples --

"Welcome home Kal-El."

The Eradicator seemed to finally be in her element. Her black body suit and cool demeanor fit with this ship's sterile white interior and black accents. This isn't home. At least liftoff had been smooth. Honestly, Clark hadn't felt a thing. A civilization that could build a telephone booth size ship, which held a couple of coliseums worth of space, ought to be able to take the teeth rattling part out of escaping a planet's gravity. "How long do we have to lounge around this 'lovely ship' and stare at each other?"

"Six months in transit," the Eradicator said. "You have a lot to learn in that time. To begin, you will master galactic standard. It's a language. When I complete my self-diagnostic we will continue from there."

She wanted him to master a language, by himself. Exactly how long did her diagnostics last? "How long will you be out of commission?" Maybe this was the chance he'd been waiting for? He could find a way to take her out while she was repairing herself. It was too perfect.

"I will be unavailable to you for approximately one Earth week. The Kryptonium will aid you in your studies," the Eradicator said. A smile tugged at her lips. You see a weakness do you? Control that excitement. Her Master was quite transparent. He wore his emotions on his face. He hadn't given up on his life on Earth. Any opening she offered, he would use against her. Well, she would leave no openings.

"You think I can learn a language in a week?" Clark said. More likely, I'll learn how to take you apart in a week.

"I will hold you to Kryptonian standards, Kal-El. You are not human. I will not underestimate you."


Like a mini-tornado, Chloe Sullivan tore through the torch office scattering papers and turning over piles.

"Whoa girl." Pete just missed catching a stapler to the head by ducking back behind the door he had been entering. "You trying to kill me?"

Chloe barely paused to glare at Pete. "Maria turned in her column yesterday, supposedly, but I can't find it, and we have no front page thanks to Clark Kent! Is the world out to get me, or am I just losing my mind. On second thought, don't answer that." Chloe dropped into her desk chair and sighed. "This week couldn't get any worse."

Pete shook his head and took the seat opposite Chloe in her office. What had Clark done to upset her now? Maybe avoiding her was why he wasn't in school today. "You needed Clark for the front page this week? He's been pretty flaky lately, skipping classes three days in a row. I wouldn't think a poor attendance record would make your front page though."

"Trust me, Pete. There's a story here. You'll get to read all about it in the Torch." Chloe grabbed her book sack and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? What about the paper? Is it coming out tomorrow?" Pete asked.

"I'm going to get the interview Clark promised me, and then I'm going to spend the rest my evening making this paper come together," Chloe said.

"Wait up, I'm coming too." Pete's curiosity was peaked. Clark had wanted to talk yesterday, and now Chloe wanted to put him on the front page. Something was definitely up.


Lex ran his index finger along one of a long line of figures spread across his desk and tried to stay focused. This afternoon was dedicated to finding a shade of green in the rows of red he kept getting from the factory spreadsheets.

"Mr. Luthor, a Detective Gadwall to see you."

Lex stared at his intercom and sighed. Gadwall, the detective who'd come out to the Kent farm following their interlude with the Eradicator. He couldn't exactly tell him to come back when he finished his spreadsheet. Maybe they'd arrested the psycho responsible for his sore arm. That would be a nice surprise to end the day on. "Send him in," Lex said. He leaned back in his chair and waited while his visitor strolled into his office. The furnishings were ostentatious from the intricate Oriental rug to the Ming vase resting on an finely varnished end table. It was designed to intimidate, to rattle. From the wide-eyed look on Gadwall's face, the room was having the desired effect.

"Detective, good to see you. How can I be of assistance?" Lex said. He rose and politely offered Gadwall his hand.

"Mr. Luthor, I know you're a busy man, so I'll make this quick. Have you had any further contact with the young lady who attacked you the other night?" Gadwall asked. He seemed to grow steady after Lex's handshake.

"If I had, I would of course have contacted the police," Lex said. "I take it you haven't made an arrest." Re-questioning so soon? How involved in this did the police think he was?

"No, no arrest, but this should be hitting the news wire soon. We have a new problem. The Kent boy went missing last night. His parents called in this morning. We need to find this perp fast. Any information you think of, call in right away."

Christ, Clark had wandered through his office just the day before setting his affairs in order. Now he was missing? Lex tensed his hands into fists. This town, its meteors and mysteries, swallowed people whole. Well it didn't get to swallow Clark Kent, his friend. Lex changed the things he didn't like. "I don't have to tell you that I'll do whatever it takes to help this investigation. If at any time the department thinks a reward might help, I'd be glad to put up the capital."

Gadwall nodded. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say, we appreciate your cooperation, but a reward would be jumping the gun. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, and Clark is a teenager. We're taking this very seriously because of the incident on the farm, but this definitely isn't the time to panic. We'll be in touch."

Lex watched the detective walk away and he shook his head. At least the police were looking already, a real perk to living in Smallville. In Metropolis teenagers were disappearing every ten seconds and reappearing within a week. Searching didn't really get serious until it was too late in the situations where it mattered. Well it mattered today, and Lex wasn't going to just leave this to the Smallville PD.


Chloe slammed the door to her Dad's car and stalked her way up to the Kent's front door. Clark was probably out in some field digging up corn or whatever they did during harvest season. Well, he didn't get to blow her off that easy. She'd just sit on his doorstep until he came home.

"Chloe, would you wait up," Pete said. "Clark will still be there in ten seconds."

Three hard raps to the front door, and Chloe crossed her arms to wait. This boy had a lot of nerve, promising her an exclusive interview and then not even coming to school. He could have sent her a message, called her cell phone. She knocked again. Wasn't anyone home? She checked the doorknob. "Open. I'm going in."

"In? You can't just go in Chloe. That's highly rude," Pete said.

"It's rude to stand a person up too." Chloe released the handle. She wasn't going to be rude by barging into the Kent's house. What was wrong with her? Clark might be able to help her find out what had happened to her in the woods, that was what was wrong. He could maybe show her what had screwed with her mind. "Sorry, that was stupid. I'll wait on the porch."

Pete sighed and nodded. Chloe wasn't acting like herself today. Normally, she was quick to give Clark the benefit of the doubt, but not today. "That's a little more reasonable."

The sound of something clomping through the nearby field of corn brought Chloe up short before she could take a seat. "Did you hear that? Something's out there." A strange feeling, like she used to get when she was little and watching Twilight Zone reruns bubbled up in Chloe. There was something out there. Was it the thing that had attacked her? Maybe it had done something to the Kents. The anger she'd been nursing toward Clark shifted quickly to concern and fear. It's not even dark out and you're looking for boogey-men.

"Hey, is that you, Clark? Mr. Kent?" Pete headed down off the porch and toward the sound.

Chloe's first instinct was to hang back. Lord, she really was still rattled. Be brave girl. Chloe took a deep steadying breath and followed Pete down to the field. What they found among those gently waving stalks couldn't have shocked her more if it had been the lady who attacked her. "Mr. Kent? Are you okay?"

Jonathan Kent, unconscious or nearly so was sprawled across a half dozen stalks of corn. Pete dropped to his knees and touched the older man's face lightly. His lip curled back in disgust and Pete waved at the fumes coming off Mr. Kent. "He's pickled."

"Are you kidding? It's five in the afternoon, and Mr. Kent doesn't drink." Chloe joined Pete on her knees. Pungent and sharp, it almost smelled like a cheesy version of the ethanol they used in lab. "This is bizarre."

"No this is cheap whiskey," Pete said. He held up a little brown bottle he'd pried out of Mr. Kent's hand. "Let's get him to the house. We can't just leave him here."

It was with a strange hobble and jerk that Chloe and Pete managed to drag Jonathan back to the house. This time Pete didn't dissent when Chloe pushed the front door open. "Mrs. Kent? Anyone home?" Pete called.

"Come on, the couch," Chloe said with a grunt.

After they had him settled, Chloe dropped to the floor and tried to catch her breath. "You get that coat off of him. I'm going to make some coffee."

"Martha?" Jonathan whispered. "God, just talk to me. I need you to talk to me."

Pete jumped back. He'd never seen Clark's dad like this. Mr. Kent was always so steady and calm, well unless he was riled. He'd never seen him drunk before. "It's Pete, Mr. Kent and Chloe. Where's Mrs. Kent, or Clark. You need help."

"She's upstairs, but she won't come out. I tried, after the police left, but she wouldn't even talk to me. I could hear her, crying. She's locked in his room, and I need her," Jonathan whispered. His words were hardly slurred but he was crying now.

Chloe and Pete exchanged a long look. Police? Mrs. Kent had locked herself in a room upstairs? "Where's Clark?" Chloe asked.

"Clark's gone," Jonathan whispered. "I have to get to Martha. She needs me even if she can't see it. I need her."

"What do you mean, Clark's gone? Gone fishing? Gone to the field?" Pete had a sinking suspicion that he didn't want to know what Jonathan meant by gone, but he had to know. Was Clark okay?

Chloe felt like her world stopped turning when Jonathan said those two little words. Clark's gone. Nausea washed through her and she willed herself to not believe it. What would have Jonathan Kent drunk at five in the afternoon and Martha locked in a room upstairs. Was Clark... dead? No! Maybe he was lost somewhere out there, confused like she'd been.

"He was just trying to protect us," Jonathan whispered. "That thing, whatever she was. She was just too strong. He'll make it back though. Clark's tough and persistent. We have to have faith." Jonathan took Chloe's hand and patted it. "I believe it's going to be okay." His breathing slowed and Jonathan slipped back into unconsciousness.

Chloe stared at Mr. Kent, willing him to start talking again. "I have to find out what happened. I'm going to the police station. He said they had the police out here," Chloe said. "Will you stay with him?"

Pete nodded slowly. Mr. Kent was out cold. He could stay with him until he woke up again. There probably wasn't much point to the vigil, but it felt better than doing nothing. "You find out anything, you call me," Pete said. Chloe was already half-way out the door, but she nodded. Pete turned back to Mr. Kent and blinked back a film of tears.

Clark couldn't be gone. Pete never got the chance to apologize. Fear, desperation, Pete hadn't been imagining things in that hall. Clark had been scared. Why had he blown him off? It had seemed so trivial at the time.


The Torch – Special Edition

Missing: Another Smallville High Student Lost
By Chloe Sullivan

Do you know Clark Kent? Most of you do. This isn't a huge high school and he's hard to miss. Clark is the tall dark haired freshman. You remember. He ran for class president. Maybe that doesn't help. It isn't like he won. He doesn't play football, run track, or any of those cool athletic things people get noticed for.

But you know him. He's the guy who always lends you his notes, or who takes the time to teach you that algebra problem you just can't get. He's that tall guy who always smiles and waves, even though you're not that great of friends, even when he hardly knows you.

Clark is an ordinary guy, but he's a good guy.

Today I want to ask you all to do something for Clark. You see, this good guy, my best friend in the world, went missing last night. Some unidentified crazed person may or may not have harmed or kidnapped him. I want to ask you all to look. Open your eyes and be aware. Help find Clark Kent.

He'd do it for you.


Chloe watched silently as the printer spewed copies of the simple one page edition of the Torch. Unshed tears pooled in her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall. She'd been so angry this morning when Clark hadn't shown up for their interview. "I guess you had an excuse," Chloe whispered. The tears she'd been fighting to contain finally fell. "We'll find you. The Smallville PD doesn't have a clue, but I'm going to see Lex tomorrow. He'd do anything for the guy who saved his life. I think maybe with my journalistic skills, and your friend's resources, this could work out. It has to work out because we need you here. Your parents are a wreck." Chloe bit her lip and shook her head. "No this is selfish. You see I need you. I never got the chance to tell you, what I felt, what I might have felt... Besides, you still owe me an interview."