Superman: Super

by LJ58

In the real world, there are no such things as super heroes. Or are there?

4. Chapter 4

I do not own Superman, or any other D.C. character mentioned. The rest, I made up for my own story. This is a fanfic, and not for profit, so just enjoy.

SUPER

Part 4

Diana smiled at the house Clark had built for them in less than a day.

The low, but long ranch structure was built in the shadow of a small mountain range that bisected the large island he had brought them to the night after they all agreed that discretion meant a careful retreat for them at the moment.

He had already been busy before their arrival, they found, too. Two separate caves on opposite sides of the island were filled with any provisions they might need in the near future. Including medical supplies, and even fuel for the generators he had thought to bring along. She wasn't too surprised he was so thorough. He had been raised on a farm, after all, and had a good idea what they might need.

"I think you might have been right," Diana told him as Clark dropped out of the sky to rejoin them.

"Oh?" "Not just about leaving the press to fight our opening battle," she grinned as she stepped outside. "I've noticed I am feeling much stronger today than I have in months. In time, I might just regain some of my former power after all," she told him.

"I did wonder," he told her. "And I'm glad, Diana. Not that it matters. I would still be glad to have you at my side."

"I'm glad to be here, Clark," she told him.

"I'm glad you are here. Not that I would have wished this on you, or anyone else. It's just nice to have someone I know, and can trust with me.

"How are the others?" "Concerned, but now that you're here, they will be fine."

"There was never any concern. Still, I am glad you weren't there. They did prove to be trigger-happy."

"We heard. The radio picked up the signal quite clearly. The broadcaster was quite horrified that the National Guard opened fire on an unarmed man without any apparent provocation.

"Some reporters were already even calling for the impeachment of the current President."

"Considering the state of affairs of late, new leadership might not be a bad idea," Clark told her. "I just wish the man would have listened to me."

"Not used to being ignored, are you," Diana chuckled.

"He seemed to think I was a stage magician, or something. It was as if he refused to believe anything even if it was right in front of him."

"I've heard that assessment from the newscasters since our arrival," Diana admitted. "A personable man, but too ready to believe his appointed advisors over any facts he has already dismissed for whatever his reasons."

"Well, they have made the first move," he said. "Now we shall see how far they take it, and what the country, and world will make of all this."

"You intend to keep up your…..patrols?

"Laura told me you've been going out since your arrival," she added needlessly. The reports of miraculous sightings were growing of late, especially since the rumors of a real cape were involved in the past few days.

"As I told her. I can't change who, or what I am," he nodded. "Besides the obvious fact, it will help people more readily accept that I am not here to subvert their government, or cost them their lives in any manner of speaking."

Diana sighed. "I wish I could join you. I feel stronger this morning, but I still can't take to the air, and I'm not altogether sure of my strength. Feeling it is one thing. After my….capture….."

"You've lost some of your confidence. That's all. Maybe you should take a page from Bruce's manual, and test yourself. Manage some kind of workout?" "All right. That sounds like a good idea," she told him as he heard someone in the house moving toward the door.

"Clark," Laura smiled at him. "I thought I heard your voice. Why didn't you come inside? We've been waiting to hear from you."

"That my fault, Laura," Diana turned to face her. "I had some….private concerns to speak with him about when he returned."

"Of course," the older woman nodded, and turned to lead them inside.

Laura didn't have to join them. She just felt she should come along to help, and didn't mind the adventure, as she put it, for once in her life. She had called her children earlier, telling them not to worry, and then helped gather the things they might need to move to their island sanctuary.

S

The man who led the country swung around in his chair to face the men and women in finely tailored suits, or military uniforms who now filled his office. "Who talked," was all he asked. "Because he had to know we were coming. It's the only explanation.

"So, who blabbed?" "Excuse me, sir," a brunette next to a silent James Cater spoke up. "But it seems to me this….visitor is pretty smart on his own. He likely managed to anticipate our strategy, and devised one of his own to counter us whatever we did.

"After all, everyone knows how effective a weapon the media can be if you manipulate them properly."

"That's fine, honey," came the condescending response from the silver-haired man. "But he's supposedly a foreigner. How would he know….?" "Sir," James spoke up now after glancing at Anna who visibly chafed at the rebuke. "I did brief you that he came from a world very much like our own, and that he was also a journalist on that world. He would know just how to use the media as a result, I suspect."

"An assessment I could have used earlier," a powerfully built black general growled as he stood tapping his right foot impatiently.

"I belief I made a full assessment of the man's abilities and background, general. For some reason, most of it was ignored to push forward an immediate confrontation with these two who were not confirmed antagonists to our regime."

"Regime," the man behind the desk scowled. "James, that sounds more like a word you would use to describe the evil empire's leaders than the duly elected head of the free world. Just whose side are you on there, son?" "America's," James said without hesitation.

"Good. Good," the man nodded. "Just watch those buzzwords. Makes me wonder, you have to see."

James wisely said nothing.

"So, what do we do now," the President turned to his advisors. "We lost these aliens, and those Chinese scientists."

"He's obviously hid them someplace," one of the Pentagon officials in an Air Force uniform said grimly. "We could use satellite reconnaissance to ferret them out, and then….."

"We may have to use a nuclear option," a navy admiral cut in.

"Now, hold on," the vice president surged to his feet from a chair he occupied as he listened to the murmurs of agreement.

All eyes went to the hawk-nosed man with a thick shock of snow-white hair, and piercing green eyes.

"You're talking about deploying nuclear weapons on our own homes here. This alien could be anywhere, and I cannot see dropping bombs on our own territory. Not to mention, they could be right here in the capitol.

"You really want us to nuke ourselves?" "Didn't this guy live in the north pole," another man asked.

"No, that's Santa Claus," someone cut in amid snickers. "He lives at the south pole."

"No, no, he had a giant space station. I saw it on my kid's cartoons a while back."

James wanted to groan at the absurdity of the conversations going on around him.

"Now hold on one dang minute," the president shouted. "Am I the big man in charge here, or what? I make the decisions, and by golly, that's what I'm going to do.

"So, Mr. Carter," he turned to James. "Where does this guy live?" James sighed. "He lived in Metropolis on his world. But he was staying in the Midwest, with a Mrs. Hastings until we apparently managed to run him off."

"Watch that tone, son."

"Mr. President, my point is, this man was ready to be a friend, and an ally to our world, to our country…. when ill advice cost us his trust, and his aid."

"He is associating with known Chinese Communists," a wiry, graying man in a rumpled suit protested.

"He brought Chinese scientists out of that country seeking a new home, and helping them defect when they wanted to escape their country's plans for their work," James hissed, trying hard not to shout at the man who was the current secretary of defense.

"He also broke a known saboteur out of a classified prison during her lawful interrogation," a man in army uniform added.

"I saw that file, general," he addressed the gaunt, blonde man, "But her identity was held as suspect, and nothing was proven at the time, I believe.

"As to her interrogation, that was apparently finished, since you had just ordered her execution by firing squad. An order you rushed to carry out when…..he intervened."

The general flushed with barely contained fury, and demanded, "And I suppose you were the one that told him? How else could he know we had his alleged friend….?"

"Are you suggesting you knew the woman's identity all along, and still wanted to execute her," James asked, ignoring the question thrown at him.

"Mr. Carter," the President asked quietly. "I'd like to hear the answer to that one myself."

"And I'll tell you, sir. Just as soon as General Billings answers mine."

"Well, I'll damn well not cow to some spook's….."

"I'm not CIA any longer, general," James drawled quietly. "I'm homeland security director now…."

"For the moment," the secretary of defense put in blandly.

Anna suddenly stepped forward, looking the president in the face, and stated, "Sir, I told the alien about the woman."

"Anna," James stepped forward, his tone a warning.

"Now, hold on, son. Let the lady finish her little confession."

Anna glanced back at him, then looked at Billings before she took another step forward. "Sir, I ran across the files on the apparent extra-dimensional visitor….the female one, and realized General Billings was moving with unnatural, and unnecessary haste to silence her.

"It occurred to me that if she were slain, we might lose any hold on the male we might have hoped to possess if they were connected. Which we now know is fact. Not to mention, it might have set him off.

"After all, if he can tear our jets apart, and fly in and out of China without breaking a sweat, what would he have done to someone who had hurt one of his apparent friends?" "That's interesting thinking, young lady," the President drawled thoughtfully as he scratched his head, and glanced toward his vice president.

"Yes," that white-haired man nodded. "And it might just have given us time to do more than face an untenable situation.

"Still, we could have used more Intel on this pair's abilities and background before we went stumbling into this morass like rank amateurs."

James grit his teeth. It was obviously time for scapegoats to be chosen.

"Mr. Carter did his best to advise us, I believe," the hawk-nosed man went on with glittering eyes. "But, unfortunately, certain…..impulsive acts on the part of some of our commanders have led us to an indefensible posture before the nation.

"There are already polls showing an unprecedented level of support for these….immigrants," he stated, choosing his descriptive term carefully. "There is also a groundswell of belief that they are the real deal. That is, genuine heroes from another world.

"I think it best just now if we….try to quench the seeming hostilities between us, and bring these people back into our good graces.

"For the good of the nation, of course, as well as the sake of our agenda of uniting the world under free democracies."

James said nothing, though he was obviously clenching his jaw over that bit of nonsensical fluff.

"So," the President nodded. "We're agreed.

"Sorry, General Billings, but you'll have to resign, publicly, I think, and then we'll give a public apology on behalf of the nation to our new, ah, refugees."

"And the Chinese," James asked.

"We'll deal with the Chinese in due time," the president smiled. "I'm sure we can make their ambassadors see reason, and get everyone calmed down again. For now…." "I meant the defectors, sir. They are obviously being sheltered by the….refugees as well."

"Right. Right. Well, they are still illegal immigrants," the President remarked after a long thoughtful expression that stayed focused on the vice president longer than anyone else. "So whatever else we do, they have to be taken into custody.

"Right. Custody. Then they need to be properly…..debriefed…..before we can decide what is the best course of action."

"I doubt our refugees would allow that," James told him quietly.

"I don't think it would be in their best interests to be seen as interfering in our political processes. Now, do you," the President asked with a smile. "Explain that to them when you get in touch with them."

"And….how am I supposed to do that," he asked with a scowl.

"I'm sure you'll think of something, James," the leader of the nation smiled at him. "You are pretty resourceful."

James swallowed his own bitter retort as the President continued blithely mapping out just how he felt the situation should go once General Billings made his public apology, and resigned. He stood by Anna, both of them silent, though sharing telling expressions, and just before the meeting ended, the President glanced over at James, and added, "Oh, and while she's apparently quite qualified, son. I'm afraid your aide has to go.

"Loose lips, and all that stuff, y'know," he winked as Anna clenched her fists, and said nothing.

"Sir…."

"It's all right," Anna told him quietly. "I was getting tired of this administration anyway," she said curtly, turning her back on the smiling President, and walking out without looking back.

"Next time get a man for the job, son," the president told him. "Women are nice, but too emotional. I mean, just look at how the Supreme Court got all screwed up after that woman was appointed.

"Just can't trust a woman to be reasonable," he sighed as James left the oval office in disgust.

S

"Ohmigod, you're real," the woman gasped as she clung to the side of her car as Clark caught it just before it would have tumbled off the bridge that had been damaged by the flood debris hammering its underpinning.

"Just hold on, ma'am," he instructed her as he lifted the car with ease, smiling as the three children shouting from the back seat as he flew it back to the far side of the bridge where rescue workers had been watching helplessly as she and her children in the back had been in danger of being swept away from the damaged bridge by the floodwaters now swamping the bridge on both sides of the center span where she had been trapped.

"Thank you," she shouted as the paramedics pulled her out of the car as he flew away. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted as she ignored the paramedic's attempts to put a blanket around her sodden body as she went to her three children as she kept staring up after him.

Clark allowed a faint smile even as he found himself wishing people just had a little more common sense when it came to trying such dangerous crossings in the wake of obvious storms. Several of his latest rescues had involved extreme sports junkies who had gotten in over their heads. It seemed some young men had far more enthusiasm than sense or training when it came to some of those stunts they thought to emulate.

In the two weeks since leaving Laura's house, he had watched the world, and done his best to help those that were in genuine, immediate peril beyond the scope of the usual authorities. He had stopped several natural disasters, rescued people in mortal danger, and even assisted the law in stopping several potential disasters at besieged schools.

Through it all, the government remained silent and neutral past the obvious stopgap measure of sacrificing one of their generals to the media for public crucifixion. It did not keep the government officials from discretely asking through unofficial channels why the apparent hero was hiding two Chinese dissidents who were supposedly involved in the development of doomsday weapons. Their claim, not the media's. Nor did it silence the Chinese, who continued to demand their 'abducted' citizens be returned.

In the meantime, Clark's only reply were his actions, in which he covered the globe, favoring no one nation, or people, helping all those he could. It left the American government little room to deny that there was a genuine superhero flying around the world, and that for some as yet unnamed reason, America had tried to declare war on him.

Halfway around the globe on his nightly patrol, he smiled as he caught sight of the spy plane trying to pace him from higher up in the stratosphere, and let them pace him for most of the way across the continent. When he reached the Atlantic Coastline, he flew up, paced them for a few miles, and then arched up out of the atmosphere, and came down over the Alps where he slowed down, indulging in some personal memories of his honeymoon with his wife spent in the high mountains where no one had been able to find them for three wonderful days before duty called for both of them once again.

He turned south, covering the African continent for which he had yet to decide how to best proceed in regard to the utter chaos that seemed to reign there, and finding nothing of which he could handle at the moment, he continued out into the Pacific beyond Madagascar as he arched northward toward India.

By then, the spy plane was lost far behind him, and likely still trying to triangulate his purposely random patrol patterns he had set up over the past weeks, and wondering just where he was going to light next. Next proved a stop in South Korea, where even as her mother watched, a toddler veered dangerously close to an open mine field recently expanded, but not yet fenced off as the governments grew anxious over one another's conflicting policies.

He flew down, grabbing the child even as the mine exploded, and had to shield the girl with his body, which cost him a quarter of his cape, not that it mattered to him. The mother simply stood gaping as he rose up out of the mine field, and flew slowly over to her, handing her the stunned child too frightened to even cry as yet.

"Try not to let her stray too far next time," he told her with a smile as he handed the mother her child, using her own language to ensure she understood. "I might not be around next time," he cautioned her.

He smiled at the little girl who was staring owlishly up at him from the safety of her mother's arms even as soldiers came running to investigate the explosion. "No harm done," he called out to them, and rose into the sky just starting to darken as night came to this side of the planet.

The soldiers, three Koreans, and four Americans, stopped to gape at him as he rose into the air, unscathed by the explosion, and vanished in a characteristic blur of speed even as they watched. Feeling he had done enough, he turned South, intending to ensure no satellite could track him as he rose high into the atmosphere, going hypersonic as he crossed the polar icecap, and veered north toward that part of the Atlantic where he currently called home.

S

"Zip. Nothing. Nada.

"That's what's we have managed to get after more than three weeks of intense scrutiny with the best reconnaissance this nation can summon. Satellite tracking can't keep pace with him, and the best spy planes, triangulation methods, or plain radar can't begin to keep a bead on him when he gets moving," Agent Simon Douglas, the man first assigned the 'Superman' case complained as he reported to James.

James secretly didn't mind one bit.

Having yet to replace Anna Graves, he knew Douglas was running his ass off trying to kiss up for a chance to take that job. Simon Douglas, James knew, was a butt-kissing yes-man who would do anything in his own quest for advancement. And the man had ambitions.

Meanwhile, Anna had made a name for herself as the voice for the hitherto silent heroes who had only made one real statement to date. That one being the offer to let the media see just what their own government was up to while supposedly keeping them safe which featured the widow's house being shot up by overeager weekend warriors. That footage was still making rounds on the internet, and being dredged up by certain cable news shows as they kept the story alive. After all, it was also the only footage where they actually captured the costumed hero in front of a camera.

How Clark had talked them into the open camera left behind at Laura Hastings' house was still a mystery. He did know that the world had been buzzing about heroes since, and there had been no less than two dozen cases of wannabes caught playing vigilante since then.

Ironically, Clark never interfered with the police to date. He appeared on rare situations, asking if they wished his aid, and then left. So far, his primary efforts had been at stemming natural disasters, or saving people from themselves.

There had, however, not been a sign of Diana, or the Li's.

Laura had reappeared briefly at one of her children's houses in Florida. She gave a short interview, telling the press how disappointed she was in the authorities, and that she certainly expected them to have her house repaired by the time she returned home. As far as any questions regarding the alleged heroes, she said only they were very nice people, and the world should be ashamed for how they were being treated by some folk.

James knew the woman's house had already been repaired by now. The governor of her state had personally overseen the job. Of course, there were rumors he only did so because of an upcoming presidential bid. In the meantime, she didn't drop so much as one stray word that might help them find Clark, or Diana.

And then there were dozens of angry feminist groups that really wanted to talk to her after the details of her stay at Guantanamo somehow leaked out. Especially since Diana's trials with the Navy came along with them, making Uncle Sam take a very black eye in regard to women's rights in general.

He cleared his throat as Simon stopped ranting, and eyed the stereotypical crew-cut agent in the dark suit. Guy had obviously watched one too many movies. "All we can do is wait, Simon. I told you that before now.

"We aren't going to find these people with the methods you've described. If you think about it, they've managed to elude their own more powerful enemies for decades on their own world if our stories are any judge."

"Stories," Simon murmured. "Maybe we're going about this all wrong. Maybe we just need to figure how they did this disappearing act on their world, and then find them that way," he said thoughtfully.

"That's a good idea," he said, rolling his eyes at the time.

It was a statement that would come back to haunt him sooner than he realized.

S

"They're up to something," Diana told Clark as they watched from the cave as a spy plane flew by the island for the fourth time that week.

"They're probably trying to grid map the area where Paradise Island is noted to be in the stories about you," he told her. "It's what I'd do," he shrugged when she looked at him.

"That's not very comforting," she told him. Even after another month on this world, while she was slowly regaining some strength, it still did not come anywhere near what her former gods-given might had been. Which had given her the thought that was the problem.

This world had no gods. Sleeping, or otherwise, it seemed. It left her without a wellspring from which to draw on in times of need.

"Don't worry. The house is well hidden, and we've left no trace of any occupation on the rest of the island."

"Clark, Diana," Alicia shouted as she ran into the cave, panting from her frantic jog as she spotted them. "There is….trouble. On the radio……We heard……"

"Catch your breath," Diana instructed her. "Just slow down, and….."

"Nuclear….missile," she rasped. "Israel."

Clark was gone, his slacks and shirt still drifting to the ground even as they looked back from almost being blown over by the wake of his departure.

Five miles out at sea, even as he turned toward the trouble, a pilot caught a peculiar signal, and radioed to his commander, "Target acquired. Repeat, target acquired. It definitely originated from this vicinity, headed southeast at…..Mach 3, and still accelerating. It has to be our boy."

"Roger, Hound dog-7," came the reply. "Continue monitoring the area, and await further orders."

S

Clark had seen the plane, and calculated the odds at it having spotted his takeoff even as he headed toward the telltale plume of a missile his powerful eyes had already spotted at the arch of its flight. It was turning down, and while he had no idea how powerful it might be, it was obvious that it was aimed right at the heart of that most controversial city in the world.

Millions would die, and the resulting fallout, both radioactive, and political would continue to poison the region for decades if he didn't move faster.

Even as sporadic attempts to intercept the missile failed, he reached the projectile now only a handful of miles from its intended target, and his hearing could hear the screams and prayers of an entire city. He matched speed with the deadly weapon, not wanting to shear off something that might cause an early detonation, and came up under the center of the deadly missile.

He ignored the high-powered rounds bouncing off his body as jets tried to intercept the missile, or perhaps even stop him. He didn't know, and didn't care. He carefully cradled the long projectile in powerful hands that closed slowly, but firmly, and began to nudge its flight path upward gradually enough to keep from jarring any instruments within the payload.

Then he was out-muscling the thrust of the rockets for a moment as the gyros tried to restabilize its programmed flight, and forced it higher. Using that thrust as he increased his speed, he headed directly for space as the jets fell back, and sound faded from his ears as he left the atmosphere, and flung the missile directly toward the sun where it would do little harm.

Even as he turned, the payload exploded, the shock wave catching by off guard, and hammering him back into the atmosphere. Falling for a moment in a careless sprawl, the heat of reentry warming his invulnerable skin, he heard a shrill frequency cut across his hearing like a knife. It was a frequency he knew well enough by now, and he looked more than anxious as he stopped his headlong fall even as part of the sky before him actually began to shimmer, and seemingly rip open.

A moment later, it looked not unlike the sky was…..bleeding.

Worse, the rift, as it had named by its creator, was increasing. Being forced open by something on the other side. Something with massive, grayish tentacles. He hovered in the sky, gaping at the hole in the sky, and the utterly alien limbs that writhed like a hundred octopi jammed into a small space. Only that space was still ripping open, and the sounds that were coming from the rift were far worse than the frequencies that had assaulted him earlier.

"When it rains," he muttered darkly as he stared at the bizarre scene before him as every one of Dr. Li's warnings filled his mind.

He stared at the nearest of the sickly gray limbs, and started to approach it only to feel an unnatural sapping of his strength that even Kryptonite couldn't manage. He faltered, falling several thousand feet before distance allowed him to regroup, and turned to stare up at the things in the sky that were continuing to pull the sky open, causing more of that eerie bleeding phenomenon, and allowing even more of the straining tentacles to escape to aid the others in damaging more of the obviously fragile sky's fabric.

He did the only thing he could do. He turned and flew directly toward the island, and hopefully the answers he needed.

S

"You did what," James spat.

"We spotted a possible base of operations in the Atlantic, so I authorized the Navy to send in a fully equipped assault force to take them into custody," Simon smiled smugly, adding, "You weren't around, so I felt it only proper to act before they were warned again by sympathizers."

"I don't suppose you noticed the Chinese had access to the same Intell?" "I doubt they could do anything….."

"They already did, you idiot," James spat at the man who had just returned from the Pentagon, crowing at his own ingenuity in locating the heroes, claiming James' own idea of using their fictional backgrounds to try finding them as his own. "They just fired that damned sonic weapon Clark told us about, and it's torn a hole in the skies over the Mid Atlantic, as well as setting off mild to severe quakes from Hong Kong to Africa. Didn't you see the news brief just now?"

"I was….just finishing radioing the orders to Admiral Zayer's assault team he's sending onto the island," he murmured a little defensively.

"Look, Douglas," James said, dragging him to where several other agents were watching the report of the bloody gash across the sky spreading from over the Atlantic with macabre tentacles protruding from the unnatural rent in the atmosphere. "That is what I am talking about."

"My…..God," Simon blanched as he stared at the sky. "But….that couldn't have been from the Chinese weapon. The ambassador assured me….."

James jerked his gaze from the disturbing images from an obviously brave reporter trying to keep filming live from the scene to the pale features of his lead field agent. "Assured you of what," he spat, taking a step toward him as Simon backed away only to be pinned against the wall.

"What did you do, Douglas," he demanded, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him bodily against the wall.

"I….I leaked our findings on those so-called heroes to the ambassador. We were talking about a compromise. A way to calm down the furor, and restore relations between our nations. He assured me he only wished to be certain the Li's were all right."

"The Chinese don't want to compromise. They want the Li's dead, you imbecile," James swore as he slammed him against the wall again. "Don't you pay attention to the daily briefs. And you as much as gave them their address, didn't you?

"That's why the weapon was fired over the Atlantic at such high strength.

"Damn you…..Why? Why would you give the Chinese such critical information?" "I thought…..I was sure we'd get the lot of them off the island before they could do anything. We'd be the ones that got the credit, and we could forget that black eye we took over the bad press from the start…."

James swore, shoving him back again, and letting him go. "You jackass. You just gave the Chinese a target. They must have fired that damn sonic weapon full strength to do this kind of damage. And there is no way of telling what those….thing are, or what they're going to do.

"If we survive this, you can forget playing hero ever again. You'll be lucky if you get to sweep the floors in this building," he spat.

"Turner," he snapped at one of the men alternating between the television images, and the confrontation between two of his own colleagues. "Get in touch with whoever you have to, and stop the assault on the island where Clark is holed up with his friends.

"Zayer is just enough of an ass that he won't care if the world is falling apart around him so long as he can do his bit to look good for the history books."

"Do you think…..this hero can handle that kind of thing," George Turner asked him earnestly as he glanced again at the television where a full flight of jets from a carrier in the vicinity were simply knocked out of the sky the moment they got near one of the tentacles.

"That depends on how much he's distracted by that assault team trying to grab his friends," he spat as he headed for his own office.

"God help us all," he heard one of his people murmur as he passed another television set that people were gathered around.

"Amen," James thought, and hoped that Clark really was up to playing hero after all.

S

"I think it's your sonic weapon," Clark told Chang as they stared up at the sky where the sickly gray appendages flailed at the very fabric of the sky.

"I believe you are right, Clark," the man told him as he eyed the obviously alien phenomenon taking place overhead.

"I can't get near enough to do anything," the frustrated hero told him. "Whatever is up there, it saps my energy the moment I get close."

"Which would imply a negative field band that must counter whatever forces fuel your…..solar cells," Chang told him. "I am at a loss, my friend. I truly do not know what to do."

"Could we fire the sonic device again, and somehow close the rift in that manner," he asked as Diana came running up from the beach with Laura just then. Both of the women looked more than grim, and the men turned to face them as Clark gave a wane smile to Diana.

"No," Dr. Li told him as they acknowledged the women. "I fear it would only make it worse."

"I guess you saw that out there."

"I saw more than that," she told him. "A battleship is moving closer to the island, and it looks like they're about to launch a full scale attack on the island."

Clark closed his eyes, and shook his head. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this."

"I doubt the military is our gravest concern. If those….creatures are so massive they fill the sky, what will they do to our world if they emerge fully in this plane."

"I can tell you that," Diana told them grimly.

"Diana," Clark frowned. "You know about those things?"

"Yes. Remember, I am a child of the gods. And they remind me of stories mother used to tell me. Of the time before the gods, before Zeus drove the Titans from our world, and sealed them in a fathomless abyss.

"I think those are the Titans, Clark. And if they're freed on this planet, then every living creature in the cosmos, not just on Earth, is doomed.

"All life, everywhere, will be obliterated."

"Dear God," a panting Laura exclaimed. "Can't you do something," she asked, turning instinctively to Clark.

Clark, in turn, glanced from Diana to Chang.

"If you tried the sonic emitter again, it would only exacerbate our dilemma if my earlier theories are still sound here.

"This," he gestured to the bleeding wound overhead still spreading across the sky, "Is what I was warning you of all along.

"Apparently, my counterparts in the military did not listen as closely as you."

"Diana, is there anything we can do," he asked.

"Zeus drove them back with his lightning bolts. A great storm washed them into the abyss, and he hammered them with his lightning bolts as he sealed the abyss. Or so the stories mother told me went.

"I have no reason to doubt them," she stated firmly.

"Lightning." He looked up, and considered his job. "I may have a means of handling them, then. But first, we're going to have to ensure the Chinese doesn't try firing that device again.

"Where do I find it, Chang," he asked him determinedly.

The man turned back toward the door without hesitation and ran inside to find an atlas he quickly turned to the maps of China he brought to Clark. "Here. Just a few miles southwest of Beijing, near Nanjing. There's a warehouse that sets on the river outside the city that is a cover for the research complex where they built, and test the sonic emitter I initially designed to test my theories.

"They're firing it through the earth's crust at their targets, so it will be on the ground floor of the complex, pointing downward. The outer chamber houses the computer systems, and aiming systems. The emitter itself will be inside an insulated chamber surrounded by the other systems.

"It will be well guarded," he added needlessly.

"That won't matter," he said grimly as he turned to Diana. "Where is Alicia," he asked her.

"Staying under cover near the second cave where she can watch the beach without being seen."

"Smart.

"Diana, I'm going to have to leave them to you. I have to…."

"Go," she told him with a firm nod. "We'll be fine."

He spared a moment to study her, and nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Diana smiled as she reached out and pulled him close for a brief kiss. "Just don't be too late," she told him, and let him go.

He was airborne in the same instant, the sonic boom following his departure audible even over the maddening screeches now beginning to emanate from the sky as the rift grew not only vertically, but widened.

S

The Chinese never knew what had happened until was over.

They had secured the location of their traitor, and to ensure their military secrets remained secrets, they decided to use the now active sonic emitter to test just how deadly it might actually be at full strength. Only the operator chosen to run the machine did not know its systems as well as Dr. Li. He overshot the terminal mark for the target, tearing a hole in the atmosphere itself according to the news now being intercepted from the western media.

Worse, the island targeted for destruction had not even been affected despite the numerous residual quakes that shook almost a full quarter of the globe along the path of the sound wave unleashed at nearly full strength to ensure its efficacy this time.

Even as they prepared for a second firing, certain it would destroy the island if only properly targeted this time, what was first taken for a massive quake shook the building, and the immediate vicinity around the secure complex housing the emitter. Even as they raced for cover, and tried in vain to escape the rain of debris as the complex literally came apart, the dull whine of the generators suddenly stopped cold, and the thunder of destruction filled the air around them as the entire complex began to self destruct around them for no apparent reason.

The emitter itself fragmented as the quake seemed to reach its apex with a massive explosion that devastated the evacuated control center, and what remained of the device rained down the bore shaft drilled to allow the emitter's tip to be better aimed into the bowels of the earth at whatever target they wanted to pinpoint. By the time the quake faded, and they could safely return to the ruined complex, there was very little left of the sonic emitter itself, save a collapsed warehouse that sagged in on itself as smoke and dust billowed out of the shattered roof.

S

Diana gathered her three companions, and had them hide deeper inside the cave, hoping they would escape detection long enough to evade capture, or even death, since she had no idea what the men in those landing crafts intended upon their arrival.

The sky overhead was almost completely covered in an eerie crimson stain now, and yet still the soldiers came on, threatening her sanctuary as Hercules once threatened her mother countless years ago on another world that now seemed so far away.

She thought of Antiope, her aunt, who had also been a great warrior, and the lost Amazons that waged a futile war under Myrine to hold their own place in Man's World as the day of the gods seemed even then fated to fade from the face of the world.

They were warriors all. Strong, determined, and no better than she, and yet they faced their fates without hesitation. She walked out toward the beach, thinking of how easily she might have managed this confrontation at any other time, or place, but refused to think of any other outcome but victory.

She had to have faith.

In Clark.

In the gods, that while silent, still had to be somewhere watching. She simply knew that as surely as she knew anything at all in this mad world.

Most of all, she had to have faith in herself.

She almost laughed as she looked down at herself, clad in a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and tan slacks, she looked far less a warrior, or heroine just then, unless you considered her gleaming bracelets, and the steely determination that gleamed in her eyes as she awaited the first landing craft not twenty yards away now.

She refused to cower. She was, after all, a child of the gods. If the rumors were true, the blood of Ares himself flowed in her veins.

She was Diana. Princess, and warrior.

She would not run.

"Whatever comes," she murmured in silent prayer to her gods, "Let me face it as a warrior.

"As an Amazon."

Then the first landing craft hit the beach, and armed men started to spill out.

Just as the almost melodious screeching overhead turned into a deafening cacophony.

S

Clark flew as fast as he ever had before as he plowed fists first into the weapon, simply shattering whatever lay before him as he dove down into the very bowels of the warehouse, using his heat vision to finish whatever his fists left untouched. By the time he had turned to fly back up out of the collapsing structure the guards and technicians wisely evacuated in timely fashion the moment he starting smashing through the roof, the weapon was forever silenced, and all its critical components little more than useless slag, or debris.

He flew straight up, little more than a barely visible streak of color against the sky as he reached a zenith high over the curved horizon of the globe below, and paused only a few seconds to soak in the enervating rays of the bright star that his new world orbited. Then he was arching down again, angling his descent to bring him down right below the alien wound in the ethereal plane of this dimension's world.

He felt the faint tugging at his energy reserves even as he opened his eyes wide in a manner he rarely employed, and unleashed the pure, ocular energies the press had long ago dubbed heat vision. He heard as much as saw the strange tentacles writhe and recoil, even as several actually withdrew away from the heart of his searing force he unleashed on them, and the bleeding fissure that threatened to literally unzip the very sky around him.

The power was leached from him by both the alien presence above, and the sheer effort of burning away the sickly-gray limbs that now thrashed in mad pain, and evident distaste for his heat vision as he felt himself just then beginning to lag.

He could almost feel the vibrations pulsing through the air itself as the wriggling appendages hammered at it as if trying to stretch past his punishing heat vision to reach him. Still, he did not let up. Could not let up.

If Diana's gods had succeeded in driving these fantastic creatures away, he could do no less, though he was no god. For if he failed, this world, and all around him would die. Considering the impact of such a threat, he was not so sure the worlds in other dimensions would be any safer if he failed here today.

He refused to consider that possibility. He had faced death many times before now. He had even died, and faced the grim prospect of an afterlife beyond anything he had ever known, or expected. But he would not yield even if he faced it yet again. He was a hero. This was what he did.

He focused his by now throbbing eyes all the sharper, and unleashed even more blazing energy as his heat field spread slightly, and the thrashing coils that still remained now began to purposely jerk back up through the fracture in the world's atmosphere. Every ounce of energy he could summon and more poured out through his eyes, and then there was a dulled shock wave as the edges of the bloody wound collapsed together with an unnatural sound beyond description once the last tentacle withdrew up into its own dimension.

The shock wave was more than enough to drive his almost completely spent form back, and hurl him toward the ocean below. He was too weak to fight it, but he smiled grimly as he saw the crimson fracture sealing even as he fell. He had won. Once more, he had defied the odds, and beaten back death itself.

S

Diana dodged bullets even as she deflected others, these men obviously here to kill from the way they immediately opened fire on her. Her best strategy, she soon found, was to charge them, for it kept them from shooting at her for fear of hitting their own comrades. It also kept the three tanks that had just landed silenced, as well as the mortars some of the men had tried to use against her.

She was in danger of being overwhelmed by sheer numbers several times, but she still managed to hold them off with just her strength as some of them instinctively held back for whatever reason, and she was able to exploit those moments to charge the hesitant soldiers. Her apparent success in tactics was shown by the nearly forty-odd men laying wounded or unconscious behind her, for she was not pulling her punches just then, seeking only to defend herself, and her companions.

She found it odd a number of the men were reluctant to physically attack her when they had little problem trying to shoot her. She was almost overwhelmed again when one of the officers led his entire platoon to surround her, trying to weight her down with sheer numbers.

She might have floundered then, but the sky overhead suddenly exploded with a blinding, red light, and they all froze as they looked up even as the things emerging from the other world began to truly scream. She wanted to cry out herself, in joy, when she realized that while she couldn't see him, Clark must have returned. For the things were reacting for the first time since she had seen them emerge from that bloody gash in the world's reality, and like Zeus, he must be driving them from their world.

Then the moment passed, and they became aware of one another yet again as a familiar voice shouted fresh orders, and men actually began shooting through their own ranks to try to hit her again. She barely deflected one barrage, but managed to do so, though quite a few soldiers went down from both friendly fire, and ricochets.

Another officer stopped the mad firestorm, and the admiral she had first met on that battleship shouted irrationally at the other as the men once more pressed forward, still determined to take her captive. She didn't consider her strength was not yet back to her usual levels. She did not think of fatigue, or even capture. For her, this was a battle for life. For her, death was the only surrender.

They would not chain her again.

She would not allow it.

She just managed to pull her punch before almost putting a hole in one scrawny soldier's gut when she felt a surge of adrenalin, and knew her power had just doubled. She didn't falter as she pondered that development. She just accepted, as a warrior did any good, or ill visitation of fate, and waded back into the battle.

"Enough," the admiral she remembered from that first ship suddenly shouted. "You hear me, bitch," he shouted again at her, pointing to her right. "Stop right now, or those three die."

She turned, one fist still cocked, and turned to see the Li's, and a disheveled Laura Hastings, bound and captive in the hands of a group of men in black uniforms.

She had been outflanked. While she had fought, they had used the diversion of the battle to creep past her, and find her friends.

"I knew you were a coward," she spat at the officer even as the sky suddenly brightened, and a shock wave all but drove them all to their knees.

Even as she climbed back to her feet, just ahead of most of the men, she was almost bowled over again as something began to shake the very ground beneath her feet. Then the rocky shore splintered near the admiral's feet, and Clark rose out of the ground like an avenging demon.

His cape was little more than a tattered rag, his costume torn and badly scorched in several places. Even his eyes seemed to still be radiating a crimson glow as he hovered just a few feet from the ground he had just smashed up through.

"Who's…..next," he growled in a voice that might even have made Ares quake.

Every man there, the admiral included, dropped their arms, and stepped back as Clark slowly returned to the ground, and turned toward her.

"Are you all right," he asked her.

She smiled, not even aware of how ragged her own torn clothing was as she stood there feeling nothing but the euphoria from her battle. And the joy at seeing him alive, and victorious. "Never better," she smiled.

"Mrs. Hasting," he asked, turning to the woman even as his smoldering eyes finally returned to their usual azure hue. "Are you all right?" "I will be when these bullies turn me loose," she snapped, showing no fear.

The Li's, however, looked more than uncertain as to what they might yet face.

Clark had little patience for negations as he turned to the sputtering admiral standing beside the army officer with him, and simply ordered, "Get off my island.

"Now."

The soldiers released the hostages without waiting for a command, and then quickly helped their companions carry the injured away as they silently obeyed that grim directive without any show of hesitation. Diana stood her ground, though she had the impulse to rush to him, and embrace the day's victor. She was used to that impulse, and had experience in quelling it. Otherwise, she might just have given in at that point.

Clark simply stood watching them until the last man was off the beach.

Even then, he remained on the beach, watching.

The navy seemed to get the message. The ships turned, and began to leave the area. The only aircraft left were from public media that had uncannily known just where to show up. Still, they only circled, not getting too close to the island where Clark still stood plainly in sight, and obviously still furious.

She turned to finish freeing the Li's, Laura already having been released by one of the soldiers before they departed. Only then did she go to Clark's side, smiling smugly as she looked up at him. "I have seen you manage great victories before, but this one has to be one for our annals. You truly were just in time."

"Thanks," he smiled ruefully as he glanced down at her, noting the last media aircraft were finally turning away, likely low on fuel by now.

"Clark?"

"Diana, I can't move," he said with a grim chuckle. "I don't think I've been this spent in years," he admitted as he stood there, unmoving, and just watched the sun slowly dropping toward the horizon.

"You…..bluffed," Chang exclaimed from behind him.

"It worked," Diana laughed, sounding more than pleased.

"I'm more than grateful it did," he said as he slowly dropped down to settle on his knees on the beach.

"The emitter?" "Destroyed," he told the scientist. "I doubt they'll be rebuilding it anytime soon now that the Western governments know what to look for, and now that the world understands the dangers of such research."

"I wouldn't count on it," Alicia said quietly.

"We can always hope, dear," Laura told her practically.

"You do know that without the emitter, there is no chance of even trying to find you a way home," Chang finally said as he moved to stand before the spent hero.

"I understand that, Dr. Li," he told him somberly. "I understood that even before I destroyed the machine. Still, we really didn't have much of a choice."

"Feeling any better yet," Diana asked him as she gave him a hand, helping him stand when he started to rise once more.

"I won't be breaking any records for a day or two, but I'll recover," he told her.

"I'll bet you could use a good, hot meal," Laura said abruptly. "It is about time for supper, and I know I'm hungry."

"That sounds like a very good idea, Laura," Diana agreed. "Clark, why don't you go back with them. I'll snoop around a little longer out here, and make sure they aren't going to try coming back anytime soon."

"All right," he agreed. "Call if you need anything," he told her.

She nodded, waving them on as she turned back to the beach, and they turned to the path that led to their hidden sanctuary. She waited until she was certain she was alone herself, and looked up at the pale, pinkish sky that were still healing after the bizarre injury it had suffered, and smiled toward the setting sun.

"Thank you, Hera, for your strength."

A faint, warm breeze blew in from the sea, and she sighed in rare contentment as she stared around the broken terrain now littered with the brass shells, and in some places, blood, from the soldiers' attack. She looked over at the gaping hole in the rocky beach just above the waterline where Clark had emerged, and went over to stand beside it. She looked down, but only saw seawater below. He had obviously come right up out of the ocean.

She looked up at the darkening skies, and smiled as the first stars already began to twinkle far overhead before she turned back to the join the others. "Thank you," she murmured again, acknowledging her debt to the gods, and knowing in some way, they had helped them carry this day. It was a knowledge that had no basis in men's science, but she knew it for the truth all the same. The gods were here, and they remained her allies. She simply knew it to be so.

S

James stood in front of the President, and only a few senior advisors as he stared back at the unhappy face of his commander-in-chief.

"Just what the devil happened out there, Mr. Carter," he finally demanded.

"In reference to what, sir," James finally sighed. "Frankly, my office took in so many tips from so many witnesses, and media sources, that it sounded like we were on the brink of a genuine apocalypse, to borrow the religious terminology.

"If that….man had not been as good as he was rumored to be, we'd all be sleeping in hell today," he added grimly.

"Just tell me what happened," the President grumbled, eyeing his advisors as he admitted, "Because so far, all I've gotten is a lot of positive spinning pabulum, and even I know what CNN is running as an explanation is not even close to the truth.

"Or am I really expected to believe we were almost swallowed by an alien octopus the size of a planet?"

"Sir, I think the media actually did a fair job of downplaying the truth this time. The fact is, we were on the threshold of complete annihilation. If it weren't for….."

"If you start spouting nonsense like 'he saved the day,' I'm going to wonder about you, colonel," the secretary of defense said in obvious disdain.

"He did," James told the man, then nodded at the President. "And it might interest you to know, since the final report glossed over that fact, but the woman everyone assumed was an easy target, and the means to broker some control over him, managed to fight off an elite assault team our esteemed secretary ordered in to kill everyone on sight.

"Over half that team is now in Walter Reed. Apparently, our….targets did not suffer a scratch so far as we could tell."

"You what," the President turned to stare at the man he had personally vouched for when he forced his appointment through the usual channels.

"Now, calm down," the stiffly smiling, hawk-faced man told the president who turned a very ruddy shade of crimson. "It's not what it sounds like. I…..I told them to use whatever means were necessary if the targets were recalcitrant," the less than groomed secretary assured the fuming national leader.

"If I might make a suggestion, sir," James cut in. "At this point, we look more like bullies than the poster children for free democracy."

"What's your point, son," the President grumbled as he sank back in his chair, well aware of what the media was saying. He had been up half the night listening to everyone from the Israeli Prime Minister, to the average American citizen singing the praises of the true champions of the world who had stopped a madman's plot to start a nuclear war, and saved the world in general from a truly alien threat.

The only ones not howling for America's figurative head just then, were the Chinese, who were demanding public apologies, and endless remunerations for transgressions against their sovereign shores by an obvious Western power.

Of course, the extremists in the Middle East weren't very happy either. Not that it was a new thing, since they were unhappy about anything and everything that even smacked of progress, liberty, or more modern ideas such as equality.

"Your point," the president echoed when James glanced around, weighed his options, and squared his shoulders, figuratively, and literally.

"Sir, we should appoint a liaison, or ambassador to their island to try to arrange a peace between us."

"Are you out of your mind," the gray-haired secretary spat furiously. "That would be tantamount to declaring…."

"We attacked innocent people on an island outside our waters, without due provocation," James stated baldly. "Isn't that kind of thing we're supposed to be preventing these days," he asked the President.

"And think, sir. If we can still assure them we are genuinely grateful, and looking for their aid, not their ire, think….just think what a man that could do the things he did in the past few days could do for us if he no longer considered us a threat to the world we all know we want to make a better place for everyone in it."

"We cannot afford to….."

"Shut up," the President ordered the wiry secretary curtly.

Drawing a deep breath, he leaned back in his padded, leather chair, and stared at James with sharp eyes in his nondescript features that fooled a great many into thinking him less than aware of the world around him. James was not fooled. Never had been. He just felt the man tended to listen to certain people who didn't have the slightest idea what was going on in the real, and modern world around them in this new century.

Too many cold warriors, lost in the fifties, or even forties, and thinking the world was still black and white when it had actually exploded into a Technicolor morass more than two decades ago. If you weren't aware of that, you couldn't hope to begin to cope with the explosion of amoral, overstressed, tech-junkies who were literally living on the edge of an abyss they couldn't seem to see.

"All right, son. Since this is your idea, I've got the notion you know who might make a good….liaison to these folks.

"Am I right?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded. "I do."

"Well, let's hear it."

James nodded, and outlined his plan to contact the outcast refugees without starting another confrontation that could only end in disaster. The SEAL who had described Clark's arrival after his fall from the sky had been eloquent in his account. Wounded aside, there was more than one man who had needed to change his shorts after that man had exploded out of the ground, eyes smoldering with inner fury, and literal fire, and ordered them off his island.

Even Zayer had not tried to argue at that point.

S

Clark and Diana stood side-by-side as they watched the presidential helicopter approach the island. They stood on the rocky beach still littered with debris from the battle that week. They had considered cleaning it up, but decided to leave the spent brass, and cartridges to remind anyone trying to take the island what had happened the last time.

Clark stood in an immaculate navy suit, sans tie as he stood watching the new U.S. ambassador approach who had cautiously called for permission to approach before the aircraft had ever even left the aircraft carrier. The new ambassador appointed to contact them had requested the audience with just enough sincere courtesy that she had even impressed the still fuming Amazon.

Diana stood beside him in a long, flowing white gown he had purchased for her from a discreet shop in Paris. It was enough like one of her own gowns she often wore to State events that he felt it more than perfect for the statuesque heroine who had regained much of her confidence since holding off the attacking military long enough for him to return.

The five days that had passed since the chaos that had almost literally drained him of his own energies had been more than enough to see him fully recharged by the bright sunshine that had blessed the island all week. If there were gods hiding somewhere in this dimension, it seemed they had finally smiled on them, for the world had been unusually quiescent this past week, with virtually no need for superhuman intervention in the wake of the near disasters that had almost claimed this globe.

Usually warring factions were even pulling together to help one another recover from the massive quakes that had started just before the sky had torn open.

Clark and Diana now stood watching the two Marines step down from the helicopter first, pulling down the steps to let the ambassador step down even as two media stars followed her. He had been a little surprised to hear it was Anna Graves who had been appointed to contact them, until James had discretely advised him it had been she who had first leaked Diana's presence to him, allowing Clark to save her, literally at the last minute.

That in itself had been enough to sway him to listen.

Diana had agreed, too, but still simmered with a degree of resentment as she watched the young brunette in a dark green dress tailored for formal occasions. Her dark hair was pinned up, carefully styled, and still some of it blew free as the wash from the rotors passed over her as she and the two reporters, one carrying a video camera, approached them with the Marines staying discreetly behind.

"Ms. Graves," Clark smiled as he stepped forward to offer a hand. "I am glad you're here.

"Hopefully we can start moving beyond suspicions, and form a new understanding between us, and this world as a whole."

"That is why I am here, Mr. Kent," she smiled. "And I am glad to see you, uhm….Princess Diana," she addressed her in a half query with an ironic tone in her voice.

"Just Diana will do," the Amazon told her solemnly. "My title belongs to another place, after all."

"All right. So, I understand you are willing to sit down and discuss our….mutual cooperation in this attempt to…."

"One proviso," Diana cut her off. "No video.

"You can record audio, but no film," she told the cameraman. "For the time being, it's best that no one sees just what the state of our defenses are on our island."

"You….are building defenses?" Clark's smile slipped as he nodded. "We seem to need them, don't you agree? Not that Diana, or I are that vulnerable," he added. "Still, there are those who have taken sanctuary with us, and we do not want them harmed if one, or both of us happen to be away at any given time."

"Of course.

"And on behalf of the President, I can assure you that attack was ill-advised, and unwarranted by his office. The man who did order it exceeded his mandate, and will be reprimanded."

"The camera," Diana stated firmly again as the cameraman lowered the camera, though the red light continued blinking. "Leave it here," she stated as Clark gestured toward the path they would take to their current residence. "You wouldn't want to have an accident that damaged it."

The man eyed the curvy blonde with the microphone at that subtle threat, and she nodded even as she dug out a small mini-recorder. He set the camera down, the red light gone, and followed her with an equipment bag, and a back-up recorder.

"How about still images," he asked abruptly, pulling out a digital camera.

"Only of what we permit," Diana told him after a glance at Clark.

"Lead the way," Anna smiled as she joined the pair.

S

Diana sat on the crest of the small plateau overlooking a third of the island that sprawled out before her. The moon hung low and fat in the night sky as she closed her eyes with a soft breath that hung on the still air like a plaintiff sigh. In her mind, she was once more herself, clad in Amazonian armor. She knelt before a marble altar, a flame consuming the offerings to the gods and goddesses her sisters had revered since before the first Amazon stepped foot on Paradise Island when they turned their back on Man's World so long ago.

She briefly considered the events of that morning. Of Anna Graves' cautious attempt to reconcile her nation with her and Clark's regard. Diana knew she likely owed her life to the woman, but she was cautious by nature. They listened to all she had to say as the young diplomat surveyed the large, marble temple Clark was helping her to construct as the first major building project on New Themyscira, complete with Ionic columns that held up a porch that would host an altar to the gods. Wherever they were on this eerily familiar world.

The reporter had been more than grateful for the full story of how she and Clark had come to this world. The scientists had confirmed that tale, of course, and added their own dire warnings over any attempts to duplicate that experiment, or the research that led to it after what had happened in the skies over the Atlantic just last week.

What truly drew the young woman was the mingling of high-tech melded into the Greek architecture being employed for the great palace. While seldom exercised on their own Earth, Clark had a genuinely impressive intellect, and the entire history and science of a long-dead world at his command. He employed that now as he integrated Kryptonian science adapted to their Terran technology. Robotic drones aided with some of the labor, and tasks after only a few days, the first drones he built having built others. He was now working to build an array that would be able to project a near impenetrable shield around the island using solar energy to power the generators.

Just the brief glimpse of that technology had genuinely impressed the reporters, and the government's liaison sent to sway them where force had not was also more than fascinated by all she saw once they reached the area where the two were building what would have taken men, and the best equipment, years to accomplish.

Now, with Anna Graves' assurances in their ears, and the media's apparent favor aiding public opinion in turning even more to their side, she had but one concern that still nagged her as she watched the shadows claim the island as the sun set to her left.

She faced north, focusing on that legendary direction where the gods had first come down to man so many generations past. She focused on her patron, on Hera, and even Ares, supposedly her grandfather. She didn't know, and didn't care just then. She was stronger, and growing stronger, but she was still far from the plateau she had known as Wonder Woman on her home world. She suspected she would never reach that plateau without aid. Without an appeal to the gods of this world. She wondered if they were the very same, and if her gods had simply abandoned this world that had apparently turned to science, and blind reason to the exclusion of all else.

Was that why no metas existed here? Why no one dared rise above the common morass of the greater society? These people claimed to value independence, yet shunned anyone that did not conform. They celebrated diversity, yet spurned anyone that dared present themselves as other than the greater whole that sought to assimilate those around them.

It was a world of bizarre contradictions.

Shoving all that, and more aside, she focused on her mental altar, and the plane where she often communed with her patrons when she needed guidance.

She sat quietly, kneeling in her mind, and offered herself, and her service to the gods if they would just hear her once more. If they would just answer her.

Hours passed, and even her steely discipline could not dispel the growing chill in the night air as the sun's heat left the air. She refused to yield to despair. She waited. Patience was more than a virtue in appealing to the gods. It was a requirement. Part of a test, to see if the petitioner truly believed, and truly desired an audience.

She would not fail the test.

They had a peace of sorts for the foreseeable future, and she intended to use it to her benefit.

She let the breath in her lungs slow ever more, her heart remaining calm as she both sat and knelt. Both watched, and bowed. Time, after all, was one thing she had in abundance did her immortality follow her to this world.

She was determined not to fail. To never again need fear a man's wrath. To ever again face death without the strength to fight. Not ever again.

S

"Good morning," Clark smiled as she walked down to join him where he balanced a long, white marble column he had just brought over to the island after digging it out of a quarry far to the east.

"Good morning," she smiled back, still in her white gown, and barefoot from her long hours of mediation in the foothills.

"Did you find any of the answers you sought," he asked.

Still smiling, she reached out and took the new column from him with little effort. Still smiling, she arched her bare feet, and flew up to the palace they were building, and gracefully set it into place, careful to avoid stressing the fifteen foot pillar that would hold the ceiling of the outer porch once it was complete. Flying back to where he stood, grinning ear-to-ear in a manner she remembered with favor, she settled to the ground beside him, her blue eyes dancing with life and vitality.

"You reached your gods," he said needlessly.

"Yes.

"As I pondered the question, it occurred to me that to be true gods, they would have had to be deities that defied such limitations as dimensional walls. Artemis came to me late in the night, and restored my might and power, and gave me a new commission to bring peace, and inspiration to this world, as we sought to do on our own."

"I don't suppose they offered any clues as to how we might return? Or if we could?" "You have met a few of my gods, Clark," she laughed. "They are not known for straight answers at the best of times. All I could learn was….we are here, and here we must continue the mission I was given back on Paradise Island when I was first charged with bringing light to Man's dark world."

"At least they did hear you," he said, though his expression changed just enough for her to know he was disappointed by her reply. "That tells me we aren't completely without hope."

She kept her own smile, but kept Artemis' whole message to herself for the moment.

The goddess told her they had both been sent to this world purposely. She, as the light to an even darker world facing extinction. Clark being sent to serve to aid her, and inspire her to keep the fight she was charged with winning.

She had pointedly asked if they would, or could ever return home.

There had been no actual reply. That was true enough.

Not unless you could decipher the cryptic, "What must be done, will be done," she had told her, just before vanishing back into the greater silence just before her mystic belt and bracelets had sent a surge of magical power back into her body, energizing her as they first had the day she won the right to go into Man's World.

She smiled as she turned with Clark toward the nearby ranch house where Laura stepped out to shout for them to come eat. The woman waved to them, and then went back inside, apparently content to stay and help them for now. Just as the Li's seemed content to stay and argue science with Clark while they worked on some computer, or some equation to ascertain the power needs for the island aside from what the shield would require.

"Shall we go," she asked him, still smiling, deciding to surprise him with her restored uniform later. When she had woke from her mediations, she had found herself once more possessed of her own costume. Once more the champion she had been charged with being, but now to an entirely new world.

"We might as well," Clark sighed, though he still couldn't help but show some of his regret at her reply. "You know how she is if she thinks we aren't eating enough."

"Very true," Diana grinned, and impulsively took his arm. "Let's go eat, then.

"Then, we shall begin again.

"And whatever comes, we shall face it together."

He studied her, smiled a little more naturally as he absorbed her optimism, and nodded. "You're right. We've never backed away from a challenge yet. As long as we're alive, there's always hope. Who knows what might still happen before this is over."

She smiled again, feeling almost carefree for a moment as she laughed into the morning sun. For a moment, she felt as if this was the first day of her life, and she had just opened her eyes on the first sunrise, and the future was an ephemeral thing full of promise that stretched out long and wide before her.

She did not doubt she would find out.

"Together," she murmured, and went into the house to eat before their day began anew.

To be continued……