- Chapter 29 – Transgression -

Just about anything was possible if you had the knowledge and raw materials to use them. Reo-Ra had never in her life been particularly short of knowledge, but she always found herself just behind the curve in raw materials. The pile of Kryptonium in front of her, hinted that her luck might be changing, if she could just get the stupid things to do anything. Using a pale finger like a probe, she tried communication again. "Would any of you like to talk? I know you don't have the language down, but we can try. You tried for Clark. He wants us to try to talk."

Luci returned to the room, her little brother in tow. "Sit," she commanded him before taking the adjacent chair. "So, what do we do now?" Luci asked.

"We don't do anything," Reo said briskly. "I have to get these shards to communicate with me. They can be the core of a space craft capable of launching us back to the civilized galaxy. We don't have a lot of time either."

"Okay." Luci picked one of the crystals up and it glowed softly in her hand. It tingled on her skin and she could just barely hear a faint melody. "It's singing," she declared, her eyes widening. Her brother nabbed one and brought it to his ear.

"I can't hear anything," Ford complained.

"Just hold it. It's not in your ears. You listen with your hand."

Following Luci's example, Reo selected an inert blue stone and held it quietly in her hand and waited. She felt the tingle in her fingers first, then she spotted a faint glimmer. Reo grinned, exchanging a grateful smile with her reluctant charge. "It's a nice song."

"I can't hear it," Ford whined, selecting a different crystal and squeezing it tight in his fist.


Humans are insubstantial creatures, easily dissipated.

One moment of carelessness could end a human's life.

Clark knew that.

Reo had categorized his recent actions reckless, and he'd relished the label more than a little. It was a statement of identity that bore no resemblance to the Clark everyone remembered fondly. It hadn't occurred to him that the price of recklessness might not be paid just by him.

When Chloe returned from hiding the red kryptonite, she wore a purple ring around her wrist, a mark he had placed on her. Clark cringed inside himself, horrified at what he had done. Leaning against the wall, Clark slid down until his knees were on a level with his chin. He folded his hands together in unconscious supplication. "I hurt you."

Chloe held up her wrist and wiggled it, managing not to show any discomfort on her face. "It looks worse than it is," she quipped, "Besides, you weren't in your right mind. That was obvious."

He could hear her heart rate increase as the pain intensified with movement of the injured wrist. Her smile and attempt to comfort him, just made him feel worse. "I'm sorry. If you want, I can go."

"Apology accepted," Chloe said. "Now stop wallowing. It's over." She waited for Clark's reluctant nod. "Come on now, you owe me a scoop. What can you tell me about the flash of light this morning? It was seen all the way to Metropolis. Was that one of yours?"

Clark knew she encompassed the Eradicator, Luci, Ford, and Reo all into that pronoun, not that they were responsible. "It was seen in Metropolis?" His eyes widened and he shook his head. "It shouldn't have been that bright. Reo said it was big, that someone might have noticed." Clark closed his eyes, remembering the rush of the moment, giving all his energy to start a chain reaction, a fire, the energy running away and hitting him again from a second wave. "That light was me."

Chloe's smile lost a degree of wattage. "That was you. What were you doing?" She suspected she already knew his answer. He was doing something to try and help the craze-inducing red rock currently inhabiting her freezer.

"I've been really careless. I set a fire that burned so bright, there's no way it wasn't noticed, and I can't use the technique to help my injured friend because she can make me absolutely insane in less than five minutes. This is a major screw up."

"So everything hasn't gone as planned, look on the bright side," Chloe said, groping for a positive. Clark looked so horribly depressed. "At least we've learned a lot, and that's something."

"Right, knowledge is helpful." Clark pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going home. My parents are probably worried and upset, especially if the light was as bright as you say. Would you mind keeping Lola for the time being, until I figure something out? I'll only use the front door, promise."

"No problem, but please use the window for your exit. I don't want to explain your presence to my dad, since you didn't ring the bell this morning." Chloe crossed the room and hugged Clark before he could complete his exit. She squeezed him as tight as she could, knowing that her efforts felt like nothing to his incredibly strong arms. She wanted to hug away some of the pain and shame she still saw in his eyes. He didn't mean to hurt her, and she knew that. "Call me?"

"Tonight," Clark agreed. "If I still have phone privileges." They split apart and in a moment he was gone, racing home to face the music.

Mentally he prepared himself for the conversation with his parents. They were bound to be disappointed, possibly angry. He was prepared to defend his motives, if he couldn't completely justify the actions and consequences that had resulted. Entering through the front door, Clark took a deep breath and froze, all planned confrontation possibilities going out the window.

His mother looked his way with a strained smile. She shared their living room sofa with a petite, well-groomed freshman that Clark vaguely recognized. "Shannon?"

"Good morning, Clark. Did you know your number was unlisted?" Shannon said. She gestured toward a partially open garment bag with a bright purple dress poking out. "We had to speak today, so I drove right over."

"Why did we have to speak?" Clark asked, the pale pink homecoming display flashing in his memory. He wasn't sure whether to be thankful for the distraction from the morning's excitement or annoyed at the princess's intrusion.

"Homecoming. This weekend. I wanted to make sure you were prepared. I finally selected a dress, and it is magenta. You're really going to need a basic black tux to balance me. Your mother understands."

Martha managed a polite nod. "It shouldn't be a problem."

Shannon stood and zipped her garment bag then tapped Clark on the chest in a vaguely threatening manner before heading for the door. "Do not be late. Do not come in a tux with any color accents. I will NOT be dancing with you at all after the float. Bring your own date. Chad gets jealous. Any questions?"

"No, I got it," Clark choked out.

"Good. Bye, Mrs. Kent, Clark!" Shannon waved and slipped out the open door.

"Homecoming?" Martha asked, her smile turning maternal. "You didn't say anything about your imminent coronation. When did you find out?"

"Days ago-I've been distracted," Clark said. "Are tuxes hard to come by? Shannon seems less than reasonable when it comes to my attire next weekend."

"Don't worry. We'll rent one together." Martha patted the now vacant spot next to her on the sofa. "Where have you been?"

Clark looked over his shoulder, wishing for a moment that the pushy freshman hadn't left so quickly. "I was out making some mistakes." Clark took the seat by his mother, and met her eyes head on. "But I learned a few things making them."

"Tell me," Martha said. "Start at the beginning."


Money could procure speed in many forms. It bought Lex the fastest cars. It took a smoldering pile of rubble from a skeleton of wood and rafters back to a half-constructed home in record time. Wearing a borrowed hardhat, Lex followed his foreman through the project, allowing the man to explain the details he felt pertinent.

"Bottom line," Lex interrupted. "How much longer?"

"It's only been a couple of weeks..."The foreman pushed his orange hardhat back on his head and squinted. "Progress is good. We're ahead of schedule. You'll be sleeping under your own roof again before the holidays."

"I will hold you to that." Lex shook the man's hand.

The ability to acquire speed could spoil a man, but Lex was still patient when necessary. Clark was present for two unexplained explosions of energy, one that burned a house and one that glowed so bright it was seen for hundreds of miles.

But Lex wasn't driving to the Kent farm with Clark's lead box, and he wasn't asking questions.

His gut seemed to think, Clark was going to come to him. His gut hadn't steered him wrong yet. After all, his friend kept finding his way to Lex's doorstep. It took time but Clark would trust him, maybe more than before. A little more patience and maybe he would get the answers he wanted.

His cell phone rang and Lex checked the incoming caller. With a smile, he flipped it open. "What do you have, Doctor? I'll be right there."


The yellow paint on the Kent's porch swing had begun to peel and the chains squeaked as it shifted back and forth. Clark ran his fingers over the imperfect paint and listened to the rhythmically whining chains, anything to fill the silence between him and his parents. While his mother had accepted his explanation of events with relative aplomb, his father hadn't yet said a word to him.

"It wasn't the smartest move. It was dangerous and it drew attention, and I know better." Clark looked his father in the eyes. "To be fair, we've all made some mistakes lately."

"I can't argue with that," Jonathan said, with uncharacteristic diplomacy. "This conversion you tried, from green kryptonite to blue, it's not just flashy, it's dangerous too, isn't it."

"Technically, it's a risk, not as much of one now that I've been through it once. Kryptonite is a menace that I brought with me to this planet. Finding a way to neutralize it is my responsibility. I think most of the mutated populace would thank me for the effort." Clark carefully divorced his desire to help Lola from his justifications. Jonathan Kent didn't need another reason to hate her. He technically hadn't told either of his parents that she wasn't dead, though he had shared his discovery of red kryptonite's effect on him without naming names.

"That flash of energy today was too bright to risk repeating it. We aren't paranoid. You don't understand how afraid humanity would be if they knew about you. You'd have a choice between running for the rest of your life or submitting to isolation and experimentation," Jonathan said.

Clark did understand though. He had witnessed human xenophobia in his own parents, and he didn't want to lose his life, not for anything. There were too many things worth staying for. "You're right, and I won't do it again until I've worked out a better containment plan."

"And you'll warn us before you try this or any other experiment," Martha added.

"Am I grounded?" Clark asked the question hopefully.

Martha smiled and shook her head. "With Homecoming this weekend? You aren't escaping that easily. Why don't you tell your father about your election?"


Author's Note:

There isn't much left in book 2. I'd post the rest now, but it's better to let it percolate a few more days so that I can decide for sure that this is where I'm leaving things. You won't get the end until I return from vacation/travel next week.