E8: Superman #7

[Spider-Man Beyond]

E8: Superman #7
The Return of Superman
Part 2 of 4:
What the Hell Happened to Yesterday's Man of Tomorrow?

Written by Russell Burlingame (Borntorun)
Edited by Daniel Dyer (Spider-Man Beyond)

The Fortress of Solitude.

The solar light pouring in from the skylight reflected off the small golden robot as it hovered a foot off the ground, carrying a red cape. Behind him stood a huge man dressed in traditional black and red Kryptonian garb, with wool-like trim over his arms, legs and head. His eyes glowed yellow and all of his skin was a shade blacker than the black of the robe – less like a color and more like an absence of light.

“What is the status, L-Ron?” he asked the robot.

“The subject is still unresponsive to the treatment, Sir,” L-Ron answered, placing the cape on a crystal that jutted out of the wall. “It will only be effective if the rate of solar bombardment exceeds the rate at which he was expending energy during the battle with Doomsday.”

“And you're operating the Matrix at full capacity?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright, continue. I have to get to Metropolis. There's no telling what damage the fools at Cadmus can have done, and the byproduct of their transgressions is floating around now sullying the good name of beloved Krypton.”

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The Ace Of Clubs, Metropolis.

The television continued to drone on about the disappearance of Superman's body, and Conner was starting to feel very insecure about still being at the Ace of Clubs.

“I, er, I gotta go, Bibbo,” Conner said, leaving a ten-dollar bill on the bar. “Thanks for everything tonight, but I feel like garbage and I need to get a nap. To sleep. I need to get to sleep. I have to be up early tomorrow for a job interview.”

“S’alright, kid. But remember, I'm expecting you to be back here, so if it ain't gonna happen, I expect a call first. I'm putting myself out there for ya.”

“No, absolutely. I can't thank you enough, Bibbo. I don't think I'll get this thing I'm interviewing for anyway. I might just go back to school.”

“Yeah? Whatcha study?”

“Ah, journalism, I think. I'm not sure. I never really got that far.”

“Gotcha. Alright, kid, I'll seeya tomorrow. You got a name, by the way?”

“Yeah, I'm Conner. Conner Kent.”

He hustled out the door of the bar and ducked into the closest alley, pulling his shirt open to reveal the Superman costume underneath just as he imagined Clark had done so many times over the years. He was just about to take off when he saw the girl standing in the alley. Her pale skin and gorgeous eyes caught his attention right away, which led him immediately to the realization that she had probably just seen him toss off his shirt and pants.

Damn it.

He stumbled a few times and then went down on his front knee a step or two in front of the girl. She had even paler skin up close—almost white—with pitch-black hair. Her body was amazing, and she was using clothing to accentuate it with a belly shirt, short skirt and knee-high patent leather boots (all black). Being about eye-level with her knee made him feel a little supplicant, a little humble and it made the next thing she said seem really ironic.

“You're Superman, aren't you? The new Superman? Oh, my God! I'm Toni! I love you so much! Will you sign my--”

“I—I'm sorry, Miss,” Conner stammered. “I have to go. You might have heard there's an emergency in Centennial Park.”

“Centennial—where they buried the old...”

But before she was able to finish the sentence, he had regained his composure and was up, up and away.

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The Oval Office.

The President picked up the phone and punched in a fifteen-digit code that connected him to a line that would only be picked up if the people on the other side were certain that it was Luthor calling.

“I think it's time that we activated the Team Luthor Theta agents,” the President said into the phone. “The current crop of Secret Service metahumans are substandard and even if our – ahem – Titans aren't up to snuff, we can always just move on. But for the time being, we need an upgrade.”

He hung up the phone and stood there staring out the window. Since Superman died, metahuman crime was out of control. Maybe there was a use to that muscle-bound pain in the ass after all, he mused. Too bad that project that escaped won't be a part of his Secret Service detachment; a Superman with no real will of his own would be the best of all possible worlds.

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The Governor's Mansion, Manchester, New Hampshire.

“We need an upgrade. This bastard in the White House is a maniac, and it's not going to come under control on its own,” Leo McGarry said. He was a tall, white-haired man who had the body of the soldier he had once been.

“Agreed,” said Governor Josiah Bartlet, whose lips pursed in disgust. “It's lucky for the rest of us that he's got Pete Ross behind him, because I guarantee this moron hasn't cleaned up his mess. It's not like being a titan of industry anymore, and I don't think he understands he can't just BUY the Congress anymore.”

“We've got to figure out if there's a way to get those hapless wimps to get up off their collective asses and actually look into Luthor,” Leo said. “I don't know what they're scared of. The tide of public opinion turned about ten minutes after the bastard was inaugurated and it's really just a matter of time before a successful campaign is mounted to impeach.”

“You think he'll let that happen? He's like Nixon on steroids. I have to assume that his ego would never let him go down in the history books as having been impeached. Even resignation might not be good enough for Lex Luthor. I can see him faking his own death or something.”

“I've got an idea, Mister Governor. It's one of the few ways we can get involved here without looking like we're either carrying out a grudge for how poorly they handled the Cyborg attack.”

“How's that?”

“Glen Allen Walken.”

“The Speaker? He's in Luthor's party.”

“But he's a man of character, and he's tired of being painted with the same brush as Lex. He won't champion impeachment, but I'm relatively certain he can be persuaded to move for the inquiry. Once it starts uncovering evidence, and I'm sure it won't take long, we can promise Walken that he won't have to be the one to go in front of the cameras and ask for the head of the President.”

“And he won't resent this call?”

“I've got a friend who's a strategist for the WLC and she assures me that he's waiting for somebody to make the call. Not only will he NOT resent it, but it could buy us some latitude with the ruling party if we decided to mix it up in the Primaries next year.”

“That's really not where I want a decision like this coming from, Leo. Let's sleep on it. Good to know that everyone on the Hill is not completely insane but I'm still not convinced that it has to be us who calls down the thunder.”

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Centennial Park, Metropolis.

The Special Crimes Unit was scattered around Kal-El's gravesite in a haphazard pattern; they really had no idea what they were looking for, but it was obvious that something had happened that was going to ruin their week. There was a circular hole about six feet in diameter in the side of the monument wall. When the new Superman drifted down, the mood darkened even more.

“I'm sorry, Kid, but this is a crime scene,” Maggie Sawyer told him. “Superman being here is one thing. Superman Junior is really something totally different.”

“Excuse me?” Conner asked her.

“I mean that you haven't earned trust yet, and this is a crime scene. Do you have the vision stuff? You can wander out behind the police line and use telescope-vision. That, we can't stop.”

“Are you guys going to make my life hard for long?” he asked, only half-joking, but he cracked a smile for the SCU's benefit.

“For a while, at least. It's nothing personal, but first of all cops don't trust easily. Second, you're trying to appropriate something that's pretty damned important in this city. And third? The last guy who put on that ‘S’ and told us all that we were set for life now because there was a new Superman, tried to destroy Coast City.”

“Yeah, but I stopped that guy.”

“So it would seem.”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we can't take things at face value. Who's to say you and Robo-Cop weren't working together? Not making the accusation, just kinda saying it's not beyond conception.”

Conner scowled, and took off into the night sky, thinking that he should have just stayed and flirted with the hot, pale girl at the bar.

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

An undisclosed location.

“I am not gonna protect that bald bastard,” Cody snapped. “If I weren't such a nice guy, I'd be the one he needed metas to PROTECT himself from!”

“I understand that, Driscoll, but the fact is, he knows about you. And he's demanding you. And he's the President of the United States.” Iron Munro scowled at his boots. “So we can't just reject him. We have to be cleverer than that about getting you out of it.”

“Jupiter's Children are NOT gonna become Team Luthor. I'll disband them first. I'll sell Audrey to the damn H'San Natal before I'd let them work for him.”

“First off, Cody, it's not your choice.”

“Like hell it's –-”

“And second, you have to trust me, dammit! If you listen to me, we'll keep Luthor out of your hair. If you don't listen to me? You're going to end up in a tank someplace, getting cloned, and they'll crap in your empty skull when it's all done and send you back to your parents with a medal that says it happened while you were protecting the President.”

Cody growled. “I understand, Arn. You just can't conceive of how much I hate that bastard. My mother--”

“I know what happened, but that's ancient history. We've taken care of your mother since you were recruited, haven't we?”

“So I'm supposed to trust you. What are you going to do for us?”

“I'm going to take Jupiter's Children back. He's already issued the order recruiting you to the Secret Service, but I'm going to find a way to make you your own special arm of the DEO.”

“Yeah? And how do you figure on getting around the DEO?”

“Mostly, it has to do with taking down the President.”

Two rooms away, listening on an electronic device, Secret Service Agent Sasha Green grinned to herself and cracked open a cell phone. President Luthor was right—Munro was bad news. There was nothing that he liked better than being right, and those who proved him so were always richly--

Before she could complete the thought, a shot rant out and the top half of Sasha's head was torn away. She collapsed, her phone clattering to the floor and breaking, and Cameron Chase stepped over the corpse, her gun still smoking, and stamped the phone an extra time for good measure.

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Conner Kent's Apartment, Metropolis.

When Conner touched down on the balcony outside of his apartment, he looked both ways, then up and down, to be sure that nobody saw Superman entering the building. The cute, pale girl had taught him that for a while, at least. The coast was clear—nobody there. He slid the sliding-glass door open and stepped through the doorway. The moment he got fully inside the apartment, and started to slide the door shut, a voice called out to him.

“Conner?” the woman's voice said, and he spun around. So, nobody outside, but there was someone IN the apartment who knew he was Superman now?

The edges of his cape slapped Lois Lane's legs as he spun quickly around. “Lois!” he yelped. “You startled me. I didn't—I wanted to—“ He stopped, and swallowed hard. “I meant to call you back, really. There's just been so much going on...!”

“Someone stole Clark's body, Conner. You need to find it—him. You need to find my fiancee.”

“I heard the cops talking a little. There were some of them suggesting that he might have come back from the dead—apparently most of the rubble is on the outside. I don't want to get your hopes up, but do you think...?”

“No. I would know. I would be able to feel it if he were back. I just—there's...” She paused a moment to compose herself, but broke down crying anyway. She sobbed loudly for a few seconds, and then spat the next few sentences out in a quick, barely-coherent burst: “I'm four months pregnant, Conner. I'm four months pregnant with his baby and he's not here and I'm all alone and Martha and Jonathan don't know yet and I can't tell anyone because what if the kid has powers?”

“Pregnant?”

“I'm pregnant. It's Clark's. I'm going to have Superman's baby.”

Conner just stood there for a moment, slack-jawed and stunned. “Congratulations. I think. I'm really—Lois?”

“I'm terrified, Conner. What if there are complications? What if the baby kicks through my stomach? At least if it happened when he was alive, I would have had him. Now I—”

She stopped, and Conner just stared at her for another moment. “You've got me now, Lois. I'll help. As soon as I find Clark, we'll head to the Fortress. The computers there can help.”

“Go,” she said. “I just needed—I had to see you. I see some of him in you and I needed to see him and I needed to see you but it's more important that you—go. Go find Clark.” She slumped into the big, comfortable chair that pointed toward the sliding glass door—the one that she used to wait up for Clark in—and started crying again. “Just go. Please.”

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The Fortress of Solitude.

The birthing matrix began to shudder, and glowed red as opposed to the yellow-white that it had been for days. In the past few hours, real progress had been made and the computers were starting to beep and flicker uncontrollably. Suddenly, the large, egg-shaped matrix opened in a square hole at the bottom, spilling an oily, watery substance. After a couple of seconds of that, the body of Kal-El, wearing his Superman costume but with a silver “S”-shield and silver wristbands that were attached to the inner walls of the matrix, was lowered to the ground. The cables connecting the wristbands to the matrix withdrew slowly and mechanically and the matrix closed with a sliding whoosh and a clacking sound that echoed through the large, cavernous room. Kal-El's eyes fluttered a bit in the bright lights of the fortress, and his fingers twitched. L-Ron floated over to his side and a little arc of electricity reached out from the robot's head and over to the shield on the man's chest. He coughed quietly, twitched and spat up a mouthful of the fluid that had poured out of the matrix with him. His long hair, wet and tangled, hung in his eyes and when he tried to brush it back out of his face, he lost balance and fell, banging his chin on the polished metal floor. L-Ron offered the cape that hung on the wall next to the matrix. Kal-El accepted it, and wrapped it around himself.

“D...” Kal-El started, but had to stop to spit out another mouthful of fluid. “Doomsday? Is he...?”

“The creature known as Doomsday is gone, Master Kal-El,” answered L-Ron. “He was cast into space by Dr. Hank Henshaw.”

“H—Henshaw...?” Kal-El stammered. “The astronaut?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How...?”

“Would Master Kal-El like to see footage of the events of the past months?”

“Months?”

“The master has been deceased. It has been more than three months since your battle with Doomsday.”

“Damn. Lois...yes, news. Show me news.”

The news of the past few months played out on various monitors in the Fortress as robots tended to drying off Kal-El's clothing, skin and hair. Henshaw's masquerade as Superman, his attacks on Manchester and Coast City, Conner's rise as the presumptive new Superman and his battle with Savior all played over the screens, and Kal-El scowled as each new development moved through his consciousness. After the sequence ended, he sat and stared at the empty monitors for a long time before he finally spoke. He pulled the cape over his shoulder and stood, announcing to the Fortress robots, “I'm going to Metropolis. It's time to put an end to this madness. This impostor will be exposed and destroyed.”

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The Daily Planet building, Metropolis.

Kal-El landed on the roof of the Planet, as he had a thousand times before. Trying the doorknob, he found it locked and peered down, melting the knob with his heat vision and popping the door open. He walked down a half-dozen flights of stairs and walked out into the newsroom. The hum of activity didn't miss a beat at first, but after about five seconds of silence, Kal-El cleared his throat and Ron Troupe looked up from his desk.

“What...?” he muttered, and Kal-El locked eyes with the skinny, black reporter.

“I'm back,” he said gravely. “Take your picture now, as I've got to go take care of this ridiculous teenager masquerading as me.”

Troupe stammered for a question, and Jimmy Olsen complied, snapping a picture of Kal-El in his silver-framed costume and long hair.

“Where... where have you been?” Lois demanded, her voice quivering.

“Dead. Not anymore, though,” Kal-El said matter-of-factly. “Thank you for your concern, Miss Lane.”

With that, he turned and retreated from the building the same way he had come in. In his wake, every reporter in the place sat in stunned silence. Only the sounds of computers humming away and phones ringing broke the silence. After a moment of this, Perry White emerged from his office, where he had been on the phone with the blinds closed.

“What in hell just happened to you people?” he demanded.

“Superman's back,” answered Ron Troupe, half in a daze.

“No he's not,” Lois said icily. “That was not Superman.”

***

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Centennial Park, Metropolis.

Conner walked through the hole in the side of Kal-El's gravesite, pushing the plastic curtain that the police had sealed it with aside. On either side of the wall, small pieces of the granite crunched quietly under his boots, and it took him a few seconds to adjust to the blackness inside of the crypt. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have Kal-El's vision powers – not sure how that happened, he had mused on more than one occasion, but he guessed it had something to do with the imperfect cloning process. After all, he had somehow contracted tactile telekinesis along the way, too.

He was looking for anything at all that the police might have missed, but they had pretty well cleared the scene of just about anything that wasn't just a stray piece of the crypt wall. He leaned against the edge of the hole and stared silently, sullenly at the empty coffin on top of the stone pedestal in the center of the room. The “S” shield on the lid, which had been carelessly tossed aside near the foot of the coffin, taunted him as he squinted at it, seeming to try to will vision powers to life in himself.

A moment later, he could see his own shadow flickering against the lid of the coffin. A violet light behind him was bright enough to illuminate the entire crypt after only a moment. He turned to see a group of teenagers flanked by an old man and a sexy, blonde woman standing half-inside, half-outside the hole in the side of the crypt. One of the teenagers—a girl who may have been hot if she had any facial features but instead was only the source of the purple light—floated a few feet off the ground. Behind her was a boy with longish blonde hair and an angry expression; he wore a black leather jacket with green sleeves that had a little icon of Jupiter on the left breast. Next to him was a skinny, black guy with a bald head and a hooded sweatshirt. Both the woman and the old man were built for combat, and wearing suits that looked both formal and flexible enough to fight in. The woman had her hands on a gun on a hip-holster and the man was chomping on a cigar.

At the head of the pack was the cute, skinny, pale girl from outside the Ace of Clubs.

“Toni--?” Conner asked, trying to regain his bearings. “Who are you people?”

“I'm Iron Munro,” the old man said, tossing his cigar aside. “The blonde boy here is a penpal of yours.”

The color drained from Cody Driscoll's face.

“Yeah, didn't think I knew that, eh, Risky Business? Don't worry, we'll kiss and make up sometime. Bigger fish to fry and all right now,” Munro continued. “Penpal is Cody. Black guy is Isaiah, call him Ziggy.”

“It's Joto,” Isaiah interrupted.

Munro continued undeterred. “You already know Toni, our resident flirt. Her codename is Argent. The glowing girl is Prysm, and Chase here? She's the muscle.”

The sexy blonde with the gun nodded and gave half a smile.

“Something you have to see, Kid.” Munro pressed on, pointing past Conner and at the coffin in the center of the room. “This is a cool little trick I learned from a friend of mine back during Vietnam.”

“What's that?” Conner said, tentative and a little freaked out.

“You need to EES EHT HTURT.”

Conner felt a little disoriented for a moment, and then kind of shook his head.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. Munro frowned and pointed back at the coffin again, which was closed. Munro and his posse were standing inside the wall of the crypt with Conner now, which had no hole in it. A few meters away, the service door to the crypt was pushed open.

“What the hell...?” Conner muttered, and walked over to the coffin. He brushed his fingers over the “S”-shield on the top of it.

“I said 'See the truth’, kid,” Munro barked. “Open the coffin and steel yourself.”

Conner peeled the lid off the coffin and set it down gently against the other side of the pedestal. Inside of the coffin was Kal-El's body, stone cold and motionless.

“Kid, we're Jupiter's Children. And as you can see, we have a problem.”

Continued...