Nearly a year had passed since the brownstone fire.
Since; there had been two averted apocalypses, a repelled alien invasion, four trials against Lex Luthor for crimes ranging from attempted murder, to treason; all of which he was acquitted for. There was a brawl with Metallo, a quick fight with Banshee, and even a week where he had switched personas with Batman…
In that entire time, Clark realized one very important thing:
He hated driving!
The morning rush-hour commute through Metropolis was to blame.
Between the hours of six and eight am, Metro Parkway lived up to its namesake; a six-lane parking lot full of cars, vans, SUV's, school buses, and delivery trucks; all desperately vying for that extra foot of road, that extra mile per hour of speed that would ensure they got to work on time and got to keep their jobs one more day.
Six lanes, seven hundred vehicles, and an average speed of eight miles per hour.
Clark looked to his right and saw a man ride past on a bicycle.
He took a deep breath and counted to ten. The urge to fly himself, and his car, straight to the top of the Daily Planet had never been stronger.
He felt his cell phone vibrating and pulled it from his breast pocket. Lois's name and picture appeared on the small screen. He smiled.
"Hi." He answered.
"Hey, Smallville." Lois's said loudly. The background noise was thunderous. Clark's super-hearing could make out the roar of a helicopter engine, the sound of small vehicles moving, presumably trucks and the like, the sound of men shouting orders back and forth, all in a language he hadn't learned yet. "I just wanted to tell you I'm on the ground." Lois continued. "We're at a small airstrip about thirty miles south of the Ronne Ice Shelf. We have about twenty minutes before the chopper leaves, then another hour or so until we get to the research facility."
Clark knew that by "we", Lois meant herself and a small group of reporters and scientific journalist from around the world that had received a special invitation to cover a groundbreaking experiment being held in Antarctica. The research was into a new type of nuclear energy that was based on sub-zero fusion, produced zero waste, zero radiation, and nearly three hundred times the energy of traditional nuclear fusion.
"I'm glad you made it." Clark said. "But I still don't understand why you didn't let me fly you there myself and forgo all the hassle."
"We had this conversation already, Clark." Lois replied tersely. "For one thing, we don't need people asking questions about why 'Superman' is giving Lois Lane-Kent, a married woman, a personal escort to the middle of nowhere. Second, I can barely believe I got invited to this thing in the first place! You should see some of the faces here! Henrich van Lornsen is here, Clark. He won the Nobel Prize and the Pulitzer for his work in Nuclear energy. Peter Larsen, Scott Helms, Natasha Salinkov, Dr. Amanda Madiri, the French physicist. There are some real big brains here, honey. I got a headache on the plane ride down just trying to keep up with the conversation. I already feel like a sore thumb. The last thing I need is everyone looking at me like the girl that's only here because of the date she came with. Besides, while everyone else is talking protons and neutrons, all anyone ever asks me about is 'Superman'."
"I'm sorry, honey." Clark assured her. "I'm sure there all just jealous because you're the best reporter there."
Lois laughed. "Sure… and as long as I have my spell checker handy, I'm good to go." Clark smiled at that. Although his wife could write circles around most journalists, she was a notoriously bad speller. "Listen, 'Smallville'," she continued. "There's no signal out there, even with a satellite phone. Electromagnetic interference makes it nearly impossible for anything to get through. This place is completely isolated. Plus, weather reports say there's a pretty heavy storm heading our way. You may not hear from me for a few days at best. The schedule has us back here in four days, but that's if the storm passes relatively quickly."
"Don't worry." Clark cut her off. "I think I can manage while you're gone."
"I just don't want you to go the entire time without eating anything; even if you don't technically need to eat. And don't just order takeout food. It's not good for you."
"I am invulnerable." he reminded her. "Besides, it couldn't be worse than your cooking." He added under his breath.
"I heard that!" Lois spat. "Remind me if I'm wrong, but which on of us nearly burned down the kitchen trying to make a grilled cheese sandwich with his heat-vision?"
Clark laughed. "At least I didn't start a fire making a bowl of cereal!" he shot back.
"I told you! I couldn't decide if I wanted an omelet or not. I forgot to turn off the stove!"
Clark listened to his wife laugh, a sound he loved to hear, and would miss over the next few days. He heard some commotion in the background; someone shouting something.
"Clark… I have to go. They're loading the chopper."
"Lois, be careful out there. Call if you need anything."
"I just told you we wouldn't have any service there!"
"And you know I wasn't talking about using a phone." He added.
"You still keeping one ear on me?" she asked.
"Only when I have too." he admitted.
She was silent for a moment. "I love you." She said finally.
"I love you, too." He said. They hung up. Clark put his cell back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the road. His conversation with Lois lasted about three and a half minutes. In that time, as best he could tell, he had moved twenty feet.
He took in a lot of air and let it out slowly.
His fingers found the radio and switched it on. Rap music flared to life a little louder than he would have guessed; Lois's doing. She loved it. Clark's fingers ran through the presets, finally settling on a news broadcast he often listened to.
"…aking news story, and a Metro-One exclusive. The tape was delivered to our studios early this morning. Our producers have listened, and while we cannot confirm the source or the validity of the threat, it is nonetheless the responsibility of this news station to ensure the public is aware of any impending danger.
"Here it is, in its entirety: A treat against Metropolis… and against Superman."
Clark's attention turned to the radio then, his ears perking up.
"People of Metropolis…" the voice began. It was slightly distorted, the base deeper than any normal speaking voice. "I apologize for what is to follow. Some will thank me a monster for what is about to happen. Some will think me cruel; heartless. Inevitably, history will decided, but I do what needs to be done for the sake of the city. Perhaps, even the world.
"We have grown lazy, Metropolis. We have grown pampered. Like children, we have become dependent and weak. Instead of looking to ourselves, looking to one another for aid, for help, for assistance; we look to the sky for a savior. We cry out for an angel to fly in and save us on blue and crimson wings. We cry out for Superman.
"And by doing so, we become his servants. We become his slaves!
"What you need to understand, what he needs to understand, what we all need to understand… is that he can't save us. He can't save any of us. His every attempt to rescue us, to save us from criminals, conquerors, out worldly threats; all it does is sends us one step closer to complete and total submission. Submission to his will.
"It is because of this that I have chosen to take the following steps: For every person Superman saves, another shall die!"
Clark's eyes went wide.
"We must learn to live in a world where we depend on each other, not some super-powered idol. Not some golden God. Our faith and trust must be in the men and women beside us. Not in Superman.
"At eight seventeen, Tuesday morning, presumably the morning you hear this message, a tram headed for the LexCorp Hydro-Nuclear Power plant will be destroyed. The track will be demolished and the tram will plummet into the bay. Everyone onboard will die. If somehow, the forces of the Metropolis City Police Department, Harbor Patrol, or even the Fire Department manage to save the passengers of the tram, then no harm will come to them. However, if Superman saves the tram, if he saves the passengers onboard, a number equal to that of the passengers on the tram will be killed in their place.
"It's a hard lesson we must learn, Metropolis. It's a lesson we all need to understand. Superman can't save us. We must save ourselves!"
Silence followed for a moment.
"Well," the newscaster said, clearing his throat. "As I mentioned before, this message was just delivered to our studio. Again, we cannot verify the validity of these… these treats against the city. Local authorities have been notified, and an investigation I'm sure will follow, but I want to urge the people of Metropolis to not succumb to any fear or paranoia; to remain calm and…"
Clark had stopped listening. He looked at the dashboard clock. The digital numbers read eight fifteen. Clark opened the door to his car and jumped out to a chorus of honking horns and rude remarks. He dashed down the street and ducked into the first ally he found. A second later, at the ally's far end, Superman took off into the sky.