-- Chapter 25 -- Unique --

Who are you? Clark stared hard at the face, his face, in the mirror. His skin was a pale shade of tan. Normal? Maybe it was. He had two blue eyes, one nose, one mouth, plenty of black hair. And so far the only other creature he'd seen remotely like himself had been a figment of his imagination.

Clark could hear Aislinn, his tall colorful benefactress banging around next door. She didn't know what he was either. At least she was offering help and kindness, and she wasn't that alien. She had two eyes and one nose and one mouth... a couple of extra arms or oddly placed fur wasn't that odd.

A tiny whisper of pain tickled through his brain, reminding Clark of his awakening, of that confusion. His clear crisp reflection blurred out and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I don't trust her, son. Woman like that, she's trouble. You'll be better off if you'd just come on home." His eyes snapped open, and Clark flinched at the blond man standing behind his reflection.

A quick glance over his shoulder, confirmed his suspicion that the man wasn't really there. "Great, you're back. That's all I need, proof that I'm insane. You tell me to go home, but when I'm lost on the street do you tell me where to go? No, you abandon me. I don't want your advice. I don't need it. So stay out of my screwed up brain. Go away!" Clark squeezed his eyes shut and willed the phantom and his infuriatingly simple advice to be gone.

"Grow up, Clark. You can't afford to act the infant right now. I'll give you a specific, and I would suggest you use it. Your 'screwed up' brain might not come up with anything else. You are on the wrong planet. Remember Earth? Find Earth, you find home."

Clark opened his eyes and stared at the younger, much balder hallucination. "Well brother, while you're sharing, who am I?"

"Jesus Clark, you're you."

"Who are you talking to, child?" Aislinn called.

Aislinn's voice brought the world back into clear crisp focus, and Clark tried to massage the niggling pain out of his brain. "Just talking to myself, sorry."

"No need to be sorry. Come out here. I need your help," Aislinn said.

My first duty as a bodyguard beckons? "I'm coming." Clark ducked his head through into the main living area. "You've been busy." The space had been cleared except for a small dais. "What would you like me to do?"

Aislinn was leaning against the far wall, her two sets of arms crossed over her chest. A sly half-grin tugged at her soft rose-colored lips. "I need you to stand up there for me so I can get a line on visibility." She pointed to the little stage. "Stand on the blue spot."

"I can handle that," Clark said. He took the position Aislinn had indicated and smiled. "So, have you ever heard of a planet called Earth?"

"No, never heard of it." Such naivety, he was so trusting. Aislinn flipped a tiny red switch on the wall. "I am sorry, little one."

Clark barely registered a moment of puzzlement when Aislinn apologized, then he was swept off his feet and curled into a ball. "Hey! What is this?" Everything was still there and visible through a thin film of yellow light. He was hovering over the ground, trapped in some sort of yellow sphere of energy.

"You might be naïve, and innocent, but I think you'd have noticed when the auction started, since you're the item up for bid." Aislinn headed up to where Clark was curled. She saw him rearing back to punch at the containment sphere. "I wouldn't..." When he struck the shimmering yellow field the sphere translated the energy into motion and the tiny prison set itself spinning. "You see, trying to escape could get uncomfortable."

Clark felt his stomach flopping over repeatedly as his new prison spun madly. "Why are you doing this? You want to sell me?" I shouldn't have trusted her, shouldn't have let my guard down. A hoarse laugh barely escaped his lips. I should have listened to my hallucination. Aislinn was very bad news. "You can't do this. Who would want to buy me? I don't have any memories or skills. I'm useless, damaged goods."

Aislinn walked slow and graceful up to the dais. "You couldn't understand, but I'll explain, because I do like you. You are unique, the last of your kind. I knew it from the moment you touched my little dirty species scanner. It's just too much of a golden egg for a girl like me to pass up."

Clark stared, his heart thudding in his chest. He was unique? All that time searching the crowds for someone like himself, and he was unique. How could he be the only one of his species? Where did he come from? "You can't...I'm not...Please?"

Aislinn kissed one of her fingers and touched the energy sphere next to Clark's cheek. "You'll be fine. Whoever buys you, won't want you harmed."


A pair of headlights cut a swathe into the night. Summertime mosquitoes buzzed through the stationary lights and made their meal of Lex, the man leaning against the bumper. His unprotected bald head was already covering in bites and tiny wheals of redness. Occasionally he would reach an uncoordinated hand up to bat at the offending insects. His right hand never strayed from the decanter resting on his thigh. A small amount of clear amber liquid rolled around the bottom of the crystal container.

Lex watched the light scattering rainbows through the fine crystal. He let the colors dance across his hands. He should go home, call for a ride, and sleep it off. The last time he had attacked an alcoholic beverage with this much gusto, it had landed him in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Lex took another long swig off the bottle.

It had been years since he was this reckless, this out of control. You couldn't play proper Luthor games without perfect self control and perspective. Lionel would be so disappointed if he could see this descent.

With the help of his car hood, Lex managed to regain his feet. It was too dark to see, but Lex had been out here enough to know what he was standing in front of, a neat grid of fertilizer test plots, his gift to the liars. With a shout of frustration, Lex threw what was left of the thirty year old brandy into the field.

His original plan had been a straight confrontation. Lex was going to walk right up to the Kents' homey white front door. He was going to play it polite, maybe accept a cup of coffee before starting the questions. It wasn't like he expected them to answer. He wanted the sanctimonious Jonathan Kent to know that he knew though, knew about the lies. Lex had practiced the words. "You're a liar, Mr. Kent. I knew that in the back of my head almost since we first met. I've put up with your hypocrisy long enough. I'm through." Lex frowned and tried to remember how the speech went after that. There were supposed to be more accusations, maybe an ultimatum. So why wasn't he delivering his scathing accusations? "Because of the portfolio of blackmail on his front seat... because Jonathan Kent might lie, but he was right about me... because I'm exactly like my father."

"Lex? Is that you?"

Standing in his own headlights, Lex couldn't see the person addressing him. "This is private property. I suggest you go away."

Jonathan Kent stepped into the light. "I know it's private property. The sheriff called, said I had some kids out here at the test plots. I guess he was mistaken." Slurred speech, rumpled clothes, Lex looked pretty bad. "Martha was worried when you didn't show up for dinner. You could have given her a call." Jonathan stepped back and stuck his head in the car window.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lex said. He heard the jingle of his car keys as Jonathan came back out of the car. It was just like him to think the worst. "I wasn't planning to drive, you know."

When Clark requested that he look after Lex, Jonathan hadn't been looking forward to the task. It had been Lex doing most of the looking after though. Lex had taken care of the farm. He had helped Chloe deal with things. Something had changed and now Lex finally needed help. "Would you like to talk?"

Lex snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "If I wanted to talk, I'd have come to dinner as planned. As you see, I'm just fine where I am."

"Since you weren't planning to drive, I guess you were going to walk home? How about a lift?" Jonathan said. "I can't just leave you here."

"I don't see why not." Lex plopped down on the hood of his expensive sports car, effectively turning his back on Jonathan. "I talked to Chloe this morning. She's going to Metropolis after all."

What did she tell? It was enough to precipitate a radical break with Lex. Did she tell all? How could she? Jonathan could hear his heart beating in his chest. Could he lie here? Maybe the situation was still salvageable. "You talked to Chloe..."

"You talked to her first." Lex looked over his shoulder at Jonathan. The man looked taken aback – good. "There's no need to worry. She didn't tell me a damn thing. Confirmed a few things I already knew. I KNEW you were lying to me. I just assumed we were on the same page on the effort to find Clark. I assumed that was one thing you'd be honest about."

Jonathan took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. How much did Lex know, and what was he going to do with that information? "No one is keeping anything from you that would help you find Clark, okay? Everyone has secrets. Don't even try to tell me that you've always been nothing but honest with me or Martha or anyone for that matter."

Lex laughed emptily. "You're right. I'm a damn liar." Lex slid over his hood and jerked open the passenger door. He held up the file, the blackmail. "Hell, Dad should have named me Lionel Jr."

Jonathan had no idea what Lex was waving at him. He didn't understand the declaration about Lionel. "Lex, what Martha and I told Chloe, we told her so she wouldn't do herself harm. Missing out on Metropolis and the Daily Planet wasn't fair to her."

"You saved Chloe. She was worth saving. I understand." Lex hugged his folder to his chest. "I can't count on my friends. I am pretty damn good at rooting out dirty little secrets on my own. Just answer me one question. Do you know if Clark is alive?"

"You've had too much to drink. Let me take you home," Jonathan said. He held out a hand, blatantly ignoring Lex's question.

"Go to Hell."


I'm still here.

That observation could get old, considering my new expected life span. The sun keeps rising and the world keeps turning. The bureaucrats are still pushing their paper...scratch that, no paper. They're busy at their keypads anyway.

I can see it all from my dark hole, and I'm beginning to understand how this system really works. With that understanding, comes not a little frustration. Despite being at the pinnacle of their power scheme, I'll never take this government down playing by the rules. The other council members are too old and smart and entirely to committed to the system. I can't help wondering about them sometimes, my fellow council members. Why am I going mad, trapped here in this box of circuits, while they function smoothly and productively? Is there something wrong with me that I can't face this?

Screw rationality and productivity. Who needs it? Anarchy is a noble cause when the goal is freedom. A lot of my ancestors, my own biological mother, didn't believe in this system. It was a real thrill discovering that bit of trivia. I feel as though I've taken up their cause, the minority, the dissenters. The trick to this endeavor will be finding the lever and the fulcrum to turn this society on its collective ass.

...

I wonder if the other me out there is still sleeping, with my Eradicator watching over. I wonder if he's dreaming about our home. I hope he can dream where he is.

I miss sleeping and dreaming.

I miss breathing.

Forget it. Self pity is annoying.