Disclaimer: Superman and his fellow characters are the property of Warner Bros. Studios and DC Comics, and created by Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel.
The fact that HOVERING ON THE BRINK was nominated for BEST ONE-LINER in the SUPERMAN MOVIEVERSE AWARDS over at LiveJournal is beside the point. Make sure you vote!
21 – Time
Nodding, Superman touches down, raising the faintest puff of dust -- compliant in the face of Ben's request to discuss this issue, sitting down.
Relinquishing Ben to earth's gravity like a dandelion head releasing a seed, effortless and silent -- yet irrevocable, Clark's head sags to consider his boots. With a tiny quirk of his cheek, he blurs into jeans and t-shirt, his glasses wobbling minutely as they settle on his nose.
As they walk into the house, Clark's heels scuff the wood floor and Ben babbles in wonder. "I thought… Martha told me… everything -- you were capable of. And, I've had some time to settle with it -– even the… you… being an alien and all. But, time travel? Why have I never heard --?"
Entering the kitchen, Clark glances at Jason, still sound asleep, and sits at the table. He raises sorrow-filled eyes to his old friend. "Lois w-was buried – in the earthquake. I – Lois, it was LOIS. I went back. I reacted."
Joining him at the table, Ben whispers, "Went back, where? How?"
"It has to do with the theory of relativity. The closer you come to the speed of light, the slower time passes. I flew really fast, Ben. I surpassed light speed – time went in reverse."
"Land sakes, time going slower? That's science fiction, isn't it?"
Relaxing a bit, with the need for explanation, Clark's inner geek momentarily rejoices, "A-actually, Ben, it's science fact, proven with atomic clocks carried on past space missions."
"Al-righty then, but… how did you not –- I don't know -- get lost –- flying so fast?"
"I, um, circled the earth –- high enough up, above the atmosphere, to avoid stirring up air currents, but low enough to keep visual range with, um… Lois. I think my… instincts and super-senses kept me in place -- despite the fact that the earth moved position through space… as… I went back… in time." Feeling the weight of Ben's gaze, Clark's voice fades to near a whisper. Uncomfortable, his hands fiddle with the old tabletop, finding fascination in the ancient juice and wine stains trapped in the oak grain that corroborate long ownership under the Hubbard family's roof.
Ben lets out a long sigh, "This is a bit over my head, son -- and, frankly, I..."
Launching himself from his chair with an intensity that startles his old friend, Clark hisses, "I know it's improbable – I could hardly believe it when I did it." Shaking, Clark looks over at Jason, the miracle that would not be, if not for a split-second, hasty decision. "-- I've never told anyone this – D-Dad was… gone…"
"Go on, son."
"Father was totally against it."
"Jonathan?"
"No, uh, my Kryptonian – my birth-father, Jor-el."
"Now, I'm afraid you've lost me."
Cold as Kryptonian crystal, Kal's voice rumbles, "As you would say, Ben, we have a lot of ground to plough. And, we won't get it done in one conversation. Anyway, I need to check in on Mom, and do some preparations before I go back."
Ben notices the younger man's eyes still rest on his son, and guesses his thoughts, "Don't worry, Clark. I'll watch over Jason. But, son – this TIME thing -- this 'turning back' People may die, who never died before --"
Resolute, Kal snaps, "-- Or may survive."
Ben's eyes narrow, "Clark, you could lose your son." Behind the glasses, a surprised sapphire glare sweeps down to meet Ben's weary eyes. Despite an odd weakness in his knee area, the older man stands to face the Kryptonian, acutely aware of Kal's potential to alter reality, and fearful of the possible repercussions, "Let me talk, son. Certainly, some may live that should have passed, but… you're speaking about the power of life and death, Clark."
Clark sags to his chair -- his words, and tone, mismatching his energy, as if he feels obligated to act, simply because he can. "If I have the power, why not use it? I've had time to think it out; I feel it's the right thing to do. I'm an honourable person --"
Without meeting Clark's eyes, Ben speaks, and his voice resonates in the dark kitchen. "--That's just it –- you're a person – you're not GOD."
Clark opens his mouth to speak, and, realizing he has nothing to say, closes it. He brings his hands together and raises them to his lips. Ben has a brief vision of Superman in prayer, and then realizes he is projecting -- layering his own ideals, and his own values, on a super-powered alien. He feels a moment of unfocused panic.
On the couch, Jason whimpers in his sleep; dreaming, his heart speeds up, and Clark listens to his son, -- his resolve dissipating, all his decisions dissolving like fog in morning light. "Ben, I was brought up here to believe God doesn't make mistakes -- there is a purpose to everything – including my ability to go back in time. If I can fix them -- all my mistakes -- what's wrong with that?"
"Son, the fact you did it, went back once, means the Almighty must've seen some good in it -- a purpose. Rest assured, Clark, he watches all of us – including you. Bein' able to lift a whole island and fly like a bird don't make you better than the rest of us – only different. I 'spect you've used up your share of golden tickets. Remember, just because you CAN do something, don't necessarily mean you SHOULD."
As if to put a cap on the discussion, Ben goes to the sink to rinse out his glass, and sets it, upside-down, to drain on the old wire rack. His reflection, in the weakening light of a typically spectacular Kansas sunset, looks tired and unutterably sad.
Clark heaves himself out of the chair, as if gravity mattered to him –- his burden having become far more than he could have imagined. "The sky's beautiful tonight."
Ben's eyes turn inward, and a singsong rhythm takes over his craggy tone as he utters an old weather rhyme,
"If the sun in red should set,
the next day surely will be wet;
if the sun should set in grey,
the next will be a rainy day."
"I guess, we can't win, huh?" Clark chuckles sadly.
"Nope – not in Kansas," Ben sighs. "We surely can't control everything, Clark – 'specially the weather, and for the most part, life. Life travels a one-way path, narrow as a hound's backbone – no return trips allowed."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"Miss Kow-alski!!" Katherine knows that Lex's tone, irritable and rising in pitch, is NEVER good, but she steadfastly refuses to open the door for him.
Hold on Kathy, hold on – he can wait… and if you just… hold on…
"Kitty, please. The Reich-Duke of the Autonomous State of Morestovania wants to meet you. I know his title is pretentious, and more than ridiculous, but he owns a number of illegal nuclear weapons that I want to acquire. We have to make a good impression on him. If he thinks we are fighting…"
Ripping open the small cardboard shipping carton, and losing the battle with the packing tape, Kitty growls to herself, "Lex, I have a headache." Louder, she purrs, "Just a minute, Sweetums – I'm looking for my earring."
Lex presses his lips to the ornate keyhole of her ivory and gold suite double doors and stage-whispers, "Katherine, I know the little prick is a misogynistic bastard, but he has all these cool toys, and I want to play with them. Besides, he thinks, ha, ha -- that I have, ha, control over you. Isn't that funny?"
"Come out, please?"
Rolling her eyes and glancing at the Ikea-like instruction sheet packed with the hardware resting on her bed, Kitty sighs, "I will, DEAR, but I'm having trouble with my hair – I won't be much longer. Show him your Kryptonite. That always impresses them."
The words, fresh off her tongue, fly back, in Lex's voice, to sting her -- and she winces, as if struck. "Lex, why don't you show him your kryptonite?"
"What's the point of having kryptonite, if I have no crystals to enhance it – huh?!"
As Lex fumes, Kitty rushes around her room, hiding the first of the delicate electronic components, which a few significant bribes -- and promises – will hopefully obtain for her. She may not be able to assemble a sub-sonic communications device on her own, so one of Lex's friends put a price to that friendship, and is now loyal to 'Miss Kitty' -- as he so affectionately calls her. She did regret the greasy feel of his hair gel, but some things are more important than good grooming.
Muttering, Lex's voice recedes with his footsteps, "Lex, why don't you show him your kryptonite? Females, can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."
Kitty lets the breath out that she was holding, knowing her days with Lex are numbered.
She'll have to move fast to prove herself worthy to Him.
TBC
Don't forget to review and to vote in the Superman MovieVerse Awards at LiveJournal