Here's another segment, of my not-so-often-updated tome, for your perusal and pleasure (I hope.) You may be encouraged to know, that I intend to tie up all the scattered threads of this tale, nevertheless, my Muse in Red and Blue has the last say. So far, he has surprised me with each installment, and I honestly don't know where it is going.

Let's just hope it ends well. Being an optimist, I expect our hero(es) will prevail.

However, not quite yet...

Disclaimer: Superman and his fellow characters are the property of Warner Bros. Studios and DC Comics and created by Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel.

17 Starting Over

"Katherine?" Clark's voice echoes in the crystalline chamber, the name loud in the empty and deceptively warm space.

After a moment of indecision, Kal-El's remarkable vision scans the Fortress, zeroes in on the status display, and forces him to accept what all his other senses have been telling him for the past sixteen minutes.

The only biosigns playing out on the gel-screen are his own.

Now, he realizes his denial of the truth -- approaching his Fortress, not detecting her heartbeat -- he'd hoped the AI's new security reinforcements included a biosign mask.

Nope.

Rushing in to operate the crystal console, Clark passes a hand over it, waking the AI from its icy slumber.

Katherine, where did you go?

"Kal-El, do you require assistance?"

"Yes, AI, where is Katherine Kowalski?"

"She is not here, Kal-El."

Clark's irritation with the AI's pragmatic personality bursts out in his tight-lipped, clipped response, "I gathered that. How -- where, did she go?"

"I do not have that information, Kal-El."

"Okay… when did she leave?"

"5.32 hours ago."

Pacing, Kal-el's frustration with the situation tempts him to fry the console, "Why didn't you stop her?"

"You did not instruct me to keep her contained, Kal-El."

I enabled all the protocols to keep intruders out, but I neglected to lock the door behind me. Idiot.

"AI, play back from… 2 hours before Katherine Kowalski left."

The holographic image of the petite brunette appears in the very spot where Clark last saw her. He walks toward the image, until he stands only half a meter distant. She seems so real. He watches, as she sits listening to a familiar voice, her expression fearful and confused.

Outside the fortress, Lex Luthor hammers her with his message through a portable loudspeaker.

"Superman has a girlfriend; he'll never want you. Right now, he sits with the 'love of his life' in her hospital room – he has forgotten about you, Katherine.

I have not – I'm here. I love you; I know you would never betray me-"

Unable to stand the smug tone of his arch-enemy's voice, while on the prowl for another victim, Clark interrupts the recording. "AI, Play back from… five minutes before Katherine Kowalski left."

Krypton's last son watches, his fury rising, as Lex Luthor's voice booms through the Fortress, begging Katherine to reconsider – to take him back. As Lex professes his undying love for her, Clark blanches, and observes, horrified, as tears spring from Kitty's eyes -- the madman's ploy succeeding.

A tiny yelp elicits a start -- and a renewed freshet of tears -- from the forlorn woman, sealing her fate. She wraps her coat around her thin frame and walks toward the opening, where, just beyond the shield perimeter, Lex stands waiting. One arm cuddling a Pomeranian pup, and the other arm outstretched -- a carefully schooled look of adoration gracing his craggy features. Now, openly sobbing, Kitty walks through the high-arched crystalline entrance, and into his arms.

Kal-El watches, in defeat, as they climb into a helicopter and it takes off. He stares at it until it is a dot in the southeastern sky, his brilliant mind extrapolating its trajectory -- while knowing, deep in his gut, that Luthor will turn the 'copter around, as soon as he is out of range of the Fortress sensors.

Nodding, heart leaden, Clark steps back from the console -- his arms flaccid. Unconsciously, he drags his fingers through his hair, and lifts his head to the sky – bright blue through the transparent roof of the fortress. Hope drops with his hands, and he lets out a great roar of disappointment and rage -- making the crystal citadel ring with jarring harmonics. As the reverberations subside, Kal-El is left panting; his anger consuming him, his self-control dissolving, he shoots straight up and through the roof, shattering the pellucid canopy.

As Kal-El accelerates away, in the direction taken by Luthor's helicopter, the AI busies itself with ceiling repairs, humming a tuneless tune to itself while regenerating the crystalline structures.

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In the Family Palliative Care Room at Metropolis General, Dr. Schwartz consoles Lois's friends, while advising them further about her condition. "Go ahead, Perry; she needs to know," the older man encourages.

Perry wrinkles his nose; hospitals have always made him nervous. The atmosphere of urine and antiseptic, the shiny waxed floors that scoop up to the wall as if to contain some imagined flood, the inevitable grime-encrusted corners in the bathrooms, all conspire to make him dizzy and nauseous. Yet, despite himself, the doctor's demeanour - patient and firm - cajoles Perry to relax. He allows himself to lean into the care-worn plastic chair-back, and the waiting room relic creaks in protest. "So… you're sure about this, Doctor?"

Dr. Schwartz leans forward and raps the melamine table with his gnarled knuckles. "There's no point in keeping the truth from her; the only way she will remember, is if she is confronted with familiar events, objects… people." A holy medicine man in his chapel, he punctuates his final words with a beneficent sweep of his hand towards his captive audience. A convert, Jimmy's eyes glisten with unshed emotion, but Perry is a tougher sell.

His teeth champing down on a non-existent cigar, he fairly spits his words at the doctor. "Well, I can't very well bring little Jason in – he'd be crushed if his Mommy didn't recognize him."

Dr. Schwartz tries on another compassionate expression, and decides to say nothing. Perry locks eyes with him, and the doctor holds his gaze, knowing this is just what Perry needs right now.

Jimmy, with more than his usual collection of nervous tics and starts, attempts to earn his full credit in De-escalating Situations 101, as he observes Perry's fury sizzle like bacon fat in an iron pan, ready to spatter and burn anyone standing too close. He searches for the right moment to suggest his own idea. "--I can bring in pictures, I have lots… of little Jason, Lois and Clark, and Richard…" The name is out before he can bite it back, and he knows that he's failed the final exam - Richard is still Perry's favourite nephew. "Oh, sorry, Chief."

A slow, cheerless smile crawls across Perry's face, and Jimmy realizes he has permission to breathe again. A good thing, too, since he was feeling gosh-darned dizzy.

"It's all right, Jimmy –- I have gotten used to the fact that my nephew and Lois are old news, pardon the pun, and don't call me Chief!"

"Yes, sure Ch-- uh, Mr. white, sir…"

Perry turns to the doctor, takes a deep breath, and decides an olive branch may be better than a baseball bat. "--I could bring in copies of her articles--"

"That's the spirit, Perry," the relieved physician replies. "Let's go see her now, shall we? I'm sure you will find things are never as bad as they seem."

Entering Lois's room, the first thing Jimmy notices is how young she looks. Then he realizes her little frown lines between her eyes are gone -

– gone with the memory that HE ever left.

TBC

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