-- Chapter 16 -- School's Out --

Mrs. Pringles rubbed at her tired back and settled in behind her desk. Her last sociology class was long gone and most of her fellow teachers were settling in front of their televisions or with their families for dinner. Mrs. Pringles didn't have a family, but she did have over fifty sociology papers to grade. It was the end of the school year and final projects needed to be in the computer by the end of the week. Mrs. Pringles pushed her thick black-rimmed reading glasses up and squinted over the first paper of the pile.

Chloe Sullivan – Paper Topic: A Comparison of Socialism and Capitalism – Is there really a Difference?

Mrs. Pringles sighed and decided to try the next paper. Chloe was intelligent and well written. Honestly, a nice simple non-challenging paper would be more heartening to start from. Paper number two made her smile. Pete was a decent student and he had the good sense to echo his teachers back in his papers so it wouldn't take a great deal of thought to grade this one.

Pete Ross – Paper Topic: Do Heroes Still Exist? What Role Do They Play in Society?

Dear Ms. Pringles,

I wrote the seven pages you asked for. All the citations are in place and all the resources are documented. I just couldn't turn the paper in without a cover letter. These research projects are about representing other people's ideas and showing that you understand them. I hope the following seven pages are up to that challenge.

The problem I ran into was the pessimism. It doesn't seem like any sociologists believe in the modern day hero, but I do. I felt pretty hypocritical turning in seven pages that I don't agree with. Instead I'm turning in seven pages I don't believe covered by a couple of paragraphs that I do.

The Pete theory:

Heroes still exist. At least they did a few months ago. My friend Clark was a hero. You might remember him, 6th period, 3rd row, 4 seats back. Not everybody noticed the things he did for other people. It wasn't like he wanted them to notice or make a fuss. That was part of what made him special.

You might think that since he's gone, I'd be siding with the pessimists. The bottom line is, I don't think Clark's the only one. I think we're all capable of being heroes, as long as we're willing to help each other. I know a lot of heroes.

I don't want to forget my friend, so I'm going to be a hero like he was. I'm going to try anyway.

What role does a hero play in society? It's a little role. If you're playing it right, no one notices you doing it, but it's important.

I suppose that's it. Enjoy the seven pages.

Sincerely,

Pete Ross


Synthetic maroon material rested loosely across broad well-muscled shoulders. The silky garment cinched in tight to hug narrow hips before continuing almost to the floor. The Eradicator couldn't keep a smile off her face as she circled her master. Kal-El was the perfect image of Kryptonian beauty and grace. Too bad they'd need to disguise him for the time being. "You look lovely."

Clark rolled his eyes and consciously refrained from squirming. Kryptonian fashion was a pain. There were too many layers and they fit too snuggly. Clark felt exposed and vulnerable. Normally the Eradicator would let him get away with a pair of pants and nice loose shirt. Today she'd been insistent. She'd actually laid his clothes out for him. "Thanks, I guess."

"Earlier today we reached the planet Azar, government planet. In a matter of hours the Dodecannual Galactic Council will convene. When that happens, you will stand before them, the last true Kryptonian," the Eradicator said. She reached out and smoothed the fabric across his chest and straightened the black collar visible above the over-garment. "I will be at your command after that time. Don't be afraid of what's to come. You are a Kryptonian and you were born for this moment. I believe that."

Yesterday he'd been studying ancient Kryptonian history, and today all of a sudden he was facing some alien council? Clark shook his head. He hadn't been expecting this, but it was rather positive news. "You're going to listen to me after today? I'm shocked." It was almost too good to be true. I could be home in six months. His parents had to be so worried. He'd never imagined he'd be gone for so long. Not even to mention his friends, they probably hadn't even thought about him in weeks.

"Swallow this," the Eradicator said. She dropped a shimmering pill-sized purple sphere into Clark's hand. "The only way to keep you safe for the next few hours is to hide your heritage." Touching his hand sent the Eradicator into another destructive spiral of emotions and she had to step back. "Take a little time to adjust to the disguise. I'll be back and we will make our way to the council meeting."

As soon as the Eradicator was gone, Clark pulled out his piece of Kryptonium, Lola. "Forgive me for being abrupt, but I have a lot of questions and not a lot of time. I need to know about the Galactic Council. What will they want from me?"

"Certainly," Lola said. "First, you should take your disguise. The Eradicator is not being paranoid by requiring a disguise. Should anyone suspect that you were a Kryptonian, you life would be in a great deal of danger."

"Why would anyone want to hurt me? I haven't got an agenda. I wouldn't know a Galactic Politic if bit me. I just want to go home, and if standing in front of that council means the Eradicator will listen to me, I'm going to do it." Clark waited expectantly for Lola to elaborate.

"Take the disguise. It will need time to take effect," Lola said. "Then we can discuss the Council."

Clark stared at the little sparkling sphere, his disguise? It didn't seem terribly safe, just swallowing something that glowed like that. Well, he'd been eating what the Eradicator provided for the last six months. "I guess this is safe enough." Clark tossed the little sphere in his mouth and swallowed. "Okay, talk. Galactic council, and me."

Lola shimmered a light blue, a gesture Clark had come to associate with anxiety. "The Galactic Council was formed many millennia ago following the Seventeenth Intragalactic War. The ultimate victors, an alliance of Krypton, Veroten, and Rigom, formed the Over Council. With their supervision, an Under Council was established to provide representation to the conquered races. The Over Council did not seek to dominate these races. The council was established to help maintain peace and justice.

"Eventually, the role of the Over Council shifted. Rather than just keepers of the peace, the Over Council became the keepers of knowledge. The alliance used the Over council as a filter through which they controlled the other races with their superior technology. Eventually, the alliance began elevating Under Council member-nations to Over Council status. Only the most advanced civilizations could hope to ascend to the Over Council."

"Wait, so I'm the last Kryptonian, right? That's why it would be dangerous for me to just show up. I'm like the last of this 'overlord' type race," Clark said. "It isn't like I'm going to change anything. So there's one Kryptonian left. If they give it a few years, I'll be gone too. I'm not immortal."

Lola flashed an even paler blue. "I don't have more detail to offer. I wasn't an actively used piece of Kryptonium, at least not for several centuries. The Eradicator took me from a museum."

"No worries," Clark said. "This is going to be fine. I can handle this, and I'm going home tonight. Have to have faith, right?"

"Kal-El, are you ready to depart?" the Eradicator said.

Clark turned and his mouth dropped open. The goddess with her long black hair and perfect ivory skin was gone. "What happened to you?" Her head was slick and bald and her skin had shifted tones to a sick pea green with blotches of murky purple.

"I required a disguise as well. I was designed to appear Kryptonian," the Eradicator said. She tapped one of the walls and it shifted into a reflective surface.

Clark wasn't terribly disturbed by the change in the Eradicator. The bruised fruit look suited his perceptions of her better anyway. Clark hadn't really given a lot of thought to his 'disguise' until face with his reflection. The alien staring back at him was a real alien. His skin tone was pale purple and shimmering like the little pill he'd swallowed. What would his parents say to this look? If they'd found a shimmering purple alien in that corn field, they probably wouldn't have taken him home. Clark had never felt more far from home, or freakish. "How long does this last?"

"Scarcely long enough for us to reach safety. Let's move."


From his imitation Gucci shoes to his fake Rolex, Jason Fisk was the image of what Chloe had imagined a phony psychic would look like. He even had a cheesy accent and funny little black mustache. It was hard to believe this was the man who found over twenty lost children and helped solve murders across the country. He was just a cheesy middle-aged, greasy-haired, fake. Chloe could hardly believe she'd wasted Lex's money on him. It had taken the jerk six months to even clear his schedule and fly out to Smallville. "Mr. Fisk, I know it's been a long trip. Would you like to get right to work or maybe take a rest first?" Chloe asked.

"Yes Ms. Sullivan, it has been quite a long trip, but I would rather go right to work," Fisk said. His smile was thin and didn't last very long. "The sooner I locate your missing person, the sooner I can get out of this hole."

"Glad to see you're enjoying Smallville. So, what do you need to get to work?" Chloe asked. Maybe he was a jerk and he didn't want to be here, but he had a rather large check fattening his wallet so they were getting their money's worth however surly he got.

Fisk sighed internally. They were all the same. No one really believed in his abilities, not until he proved himself to them. This girl wasn't any different. He could read her contempt in the tone of her voice and the set of her jaw. He didn't need psychic powers to figure that one out. Part of her anger was probably at his late arrival. Her friend had been missing for six months. It likely seemed pretty heartless to her that he would take so long responding to her needs, but he had a strict selection criteria for the cases he took. Teenagers as a rule didn't get priority. More than half the time they were fine and came home on their own, and the other half of the time they really didn't want to be found. "We should start at the missing person's home. His name's, what? Clark Kent? His parents know I'm coming, right?"

"Actually, you're a surprise."


A thousand different flavors of aliens, some humanoid, just as many not, flowed down the street. Clark tried to stay as close to the Eradicator as he could manage. He'd never had a claustrophobic moment in his life until now. There were so many bizarre smells: spicy, wet, rancid, salty. It all swirled together between the gracefully arcing buildings so that he could hardly breathe. Hopefully the council wasn't far. Clark wasn't sure how much of this insanity he could handle.

"This way," the Eradicator said. She grabbed his hand before ducking down a side street. "We're not going in the front door, and we have some time to kill. There's just enough time to complete your education."

"Complete my education?" Clark couldn't imagine what that might entail. "My brain's already overloaded. I don't think I could take another lesson, thanks."

The Eradicator shook her head. "This last lesson is the most important. It's the one thing your Lola has absolutely no knowledge of. My lesson to you is the destruction of Krypton."

The one question he'd had since the Eradicator first told him he was the last of his kind: What happened to the rest of them? She was really going to answer it? "You can tell me what happened to them?"

"I said I could tell you everything before we ever left the Earth. Now is the time." The Eradicator gestured gracefully for Clark to sit. She couldn't help feeling proud of herself for her newfound self-control. Kal-El's disguise was helpful in that arena. This shimmering purple skinned man was not evoking the Chloe-personality. She was functioning almost normally. "The planet of Krypton was a beautiful and clean world. It glowed with its own light, blue and soft. You can imagine where that glow came from. There was so much Kryptonium that its light could be seen from the depths of space.

"Krypton fell in one day. Every Kryptonian on the planet died in one day. I only found you, because your father left a journal. You only survived because Jor-El, your father, predicted the apocalypse. If your father's warning had been heeded the society would have survived."

"I don't understand," Clark said. "How could this kind of civilization fall in one day? Did the planet blow up? Wouldn't there be colonies all over even if it did? It doesn't make sense." Clark threw his hands up and laughed. It wasn't logical. "Why would my parents evacuate me and not themselves?"

"The planet did not blow up. The sun spontaneously changed spectral patterns. The new pattern of radiation immediately converted all the lovely useful Kryptonium into deadly Kryptonite." The Eradicator felt a horrible rage bubble up in her at the thought. Her creators were destroyed by that glowing green menace while she'd been gathering dust in a display case. The war wasn't over though. She had to remain calm and logical. "Your parents were confined to their home. House arrest was to last until such time as the period of the apocalypse had passed. Jor-El was branded an anarchist for trying to force the evacuation of the planet. He was brilliant though, and he had the raw materials in his home to construct one life pod. He saved you, his only son. I can't tell you why you were sent to Earth. Your father's journal did not say."

I was loved and wanted. I wasn't sent to Earth to conquer or do anything sinister. My other parents just wanted to give me a chance to live. Clark wished he could tell his real parents what he'd learned. They'd always wondered about him, his origins and purpose. "Is that all you know?"

"No, but that's all you need to know. It's time to face your destiny, Kal-El. You're finally ready."