Kal-El stared at his reflection in the mirror as he wound the silken
bit of cloth about his throat and under the collar of his white pressed
shirt. He snugged the knot, considering…
“Power tie, Smallville?” Lois Lane-Kent asked as
she stepped from the bathroom, cocking her head and slipping the posts
of her earrings through the tiny holes in her lobes.
Satisfied she shook her head, letting her hair fall back into place as
she strolled forward, wrapping her arms about the man that she loved.
“Blue suit and red tie,” she said with a smirk,
planting a kiss on her husband’s neck.
“We’re going to a funeral –
hopefully. You should wear black.”
Clark Kent glanced at his wife’s reflection in the
full-length mirror, his gaze raking her and her own attire; black dress
and shoes, dark hose and no jewelry besides the simple wedding ring and
earrings. Her hair was coifed to perfection, and her make-up
was sparse but perfect. Gorgeous…
“I don’t know,” Clark said, reviewing his
reflection again. “It seems appropriate
somehow.”
“Meet me halfway then,” Lois said with a
sigh. “The black and gray pinstriped?”
“This is an important day, Lois,” Clark said, his
hand drifting to hers, caressing where she touched his
shoulder. “We have a chance – a real
chance to take Luthor down. It has to be right.”
“It will be, Clark,” she replied, kissing his
cheek. “If it was meant to be…”
GAAAHHH!
Clark Kent staggered as the psychic scream wracked his brain.
He recognized the voice of course, if not the agony behind the pain and
terror. He felt a short wave of dizziness wash over him as he
stumbled backwards, felt Lois’ support behind him.
“Clark?”
He
saw Kara – Power Girl crushing an emblem that appeared too
close to his own…
He
saw his daughter, dressed in white, red and blue, her long dark hair
flowing and looking so like Lois, as she slammed hard into the
Ultra-Humanite – a huge white gorilla…
A
mountain of Kryptonite rose in the distance…
He
felt pain and loneliness, standing before a casket draped in
lilies…
“Clark?”
Kal-El blinked. He staggered, his body swathed in
sweat. His pulse was racing as he looked about and saw the
giant green shade hovering beyond the window, encompassing the horizon.
“Clark?
Is everything okay? You seemed as if you were dizzy there for
just a moment…” Lois placed a hand on
Clark’s pin-striped shoulder, worry on her face.
Even though she’d never known him to be sick a day in all the
time they’d been together she still had a wife’s
concern for her husband’s health.
Clark straightened up and took a deep breath. He shook his
head and turned back to regard his reflection in the mirror.
The square, strong face, lined with age but still powerful.
Seemed as if every day he looked in the mirror there was more silver,
though. The sides and back of his head was nearly all silver
now. He tugged at his red tie and gave the jacket of his
black and gray pinstripe business suit a final check.
“Yes, I’m okay…it was the oddest thing,
though…things seemed different somehow. Guess
I’m just getting old.”
Lois kissed him warmly. “You?
Never. Steel doesn’t age. It gets
stronger with time.” She gave the clock on the wall
across their bedroom a quick look. “You’d
better hurry on along, now. Wouldn’t do for the
spanking brand new Editor-In-Chief of The
Daily Star to be late for his
first day on the job.”
Clark walked to the front door of their home, putting on his glasses
and stopping at the hat rack to select a stylish fedora that matched
the suit. “That’s something that has been
bothering me. Do you think I ought to talk to Perry White
about the situation? It had to bother him that I was selected
over him to take over George’s job.
Perry’s been at The
Star just as long as I have
and-"
Lois placed a finger against his lips, silencing him.
“Not another word. You’ve worked long and
hard to get where you are. If Perry’s half the man
I know he is, he’ll be the first to shake your hand when you
step into The City Room. Now get along, you. Go
report the news.”
“The only news I’m interested in today is Alexei
Luthor’s trial. It starts today.”
Lois shuddered. “Don’t remind
me. I just hope that justice is served and that madman is put
away for good this time.”
Clark kissed Lois on the cheek. “So do I,
darling. So do I.”
Clark walked out of the front door and just took a long minute enjoying
the sun on his face and the fresh morning breeze. He then
walked to the garage and climbed into the faithful Ford Fairlaine
he’d owned for 16 years now and cranked her up. He
took his time driving into work, trying to ignore the urge at the back
of his mind to park the car, find an alley to change into Superman and
fly to Metropolis Prison to check on Alexei Luthor. The
brilliantly deranged criminal mastermind had vowed repeatedly that he
would never be brought to trial and every other time he had been
incarcerated he had indeed managed to execute a masterfully daring
escape. Now, today was actually the day and in a few short
hours Luthor would be standing in front of a judge.
He’d never cut it so close before and Clark was certain that
Luthor was going to wait until the absolute last minute in order to
wring the maximum amount of drama out of the escape.
But hard facts had to be faced: there was no way for Superman to be at
the prison to prevent Luthor’s escape. Because
Clark Kent had to be at The
Daily Star to officially take
over the reins as Editor-In-Chief of the great metropolitan
newspaper. After nearly 50 years in the business, the grand
old mandarin himself, George Taylor was retiring. And he was
turning over the paper he’d been with ever since he was a boy
of nine to Clark Kent. Clark had to admit that despite all
his accomplishments as Superman, becoming Editor-In-Chief of The
Daily Star was the feat he
was the proudest of. His black mood concerning Luthor fell
away as he continued driving to his new job, whistling “Anything Goes”
Alexei Luthor’s black mood was doing anything but going away
however. He sat in his gray-walled cell, glowering at the
grinning guards who stood just a few feet from the inch-thick bars that
had kept him in this damnable cell for the past three months.
And in all that time, none of his plans to escape had come to
fruition. His many defeats at the hands of Superman had taken
their toll and eroded his once formidable reputation. Bribes
had been taken and promises went unfulfilled. His robots had
been used to pull bank jobs, his advanced matter transmitters employed
in kidnapping. Instead of being used to blast him out, his Uranium
PU-36 Explosive was being used in acts of sabotage.
Never had he so wanted to kill Superman than at that moment.
He dropped his throbbing head into his big hands and tugged at his
thick, virile red hair. Think,
Luthor!
THINK! There had to
be a way out of here. Never before had Alexei Luthor been put
on trial and he wouldn’t now. It was an intolerable
thought and one that made his very brain hot so that he imagined he
could feel his neurons sizzling.
“Never thought I’d see the day when the great
Luthor would look worried, Joe.” One of the guards
jerked a thumb at the man in the gray jumpsuit sitting in his
cell. “The Luthor I remembered strutted around like
the world’s most beautiful peacock the day he came in here
boastin’ he’d be out inside of a week.”
“Guess a week lasts 90 days now an’ we’re
the last to hear of it, Jerry,” the other guard
agreed. “Hey, Luthor, what happened? You
run outta those super-scientificky gizmos you used to use on Superman
all the time?”
“Sure an’ The Man of Steel has had the last laugh
after all, Joe. After all these years it’s ended
the only way it could have ended…with Luthor finally
goin’ before a judge an’ getting’
what’s due him.”
Luthor sprang up from his bench and with a snarl charged the
bars. He arms shot through the gaps, hands futilely trying to
grab hold of his tormentors who stood just a fingernail’s
length from his grasp. “I’ll remember the
both of you when I’m out of here! Alexei Luthor
never forgets an enemy!”
“Sure an’ you’ll be havin’ a
long, long time to be rememberin’ our faces,
Luthor! C’mon, Jerry…we’ve got
time for coffee before we have to take his nibs to the
courthouse.” The two guards walked down the narrow,
well lit corridor to the commissary, laughing and joking.
Luthor gripped the bars so tightly that a sharp pain traveled all the
way up to his elbows. How he dearly longed to tear these bars
asunder and take his full measure of vengeance on those fools and then
after them, the hated Superman.
“Luthor.”
Amazingly, the voice came inside
his cell. From right behind him. Luthor turned
around and for one of the few times in his life was taken by
surprise. “You!” he gawped.
“Yes, me. Looks like you’ve lost about
ten, fifteen pounds since you’ve been here.”
Luthor’s surprise was replaced by ebullient glee.
“You’ve come to help me escape? To get me
out of here?”
“Yes.”
Luthor threw back his head and raised his fists in triumph.
“YES! I swore that I would never stand trial and
with your help, my friend, my promise will be kept!”
“You’ve got it all wrong, my friend. Oh,
I’m here to get you out. But you most certainly
will be standing trial today. But after the trial
I’m taking you to now, you may very well wish I had left you
right here in this cell.”
Fifteen minutes later when the guards returned to take Luthor to the
courthouse they found nothing but an empty cell. The door was
still locked. The bars still firm. They frantically
searched the cell, finding the walls as solid as ever. No
secret escape tunnels. Somehow, Luthor had disappeared from
his jail cell. And they were in a whole lot of
trouble. Maybe not as much as Superman, they
expected. But with Luthor free and on the loose once more,
there was trouble enough for all to go around.
Clark Kent stepped off the elevator and into The City Room of The
Daily Star to thunderous
applause from the staff. There was a large banner with huge
yellow and red lettering: GOOD
MORNING, BOSS!
Clark stood there with his hat in one hand, nervously adjusting his
horn-rimmed glasses with the other as the staffers, friends
he’d known for years came up to shake his hand and wish him
well. George Taylor himself was pushing through the staffers,
making his way toward Clark.
“Okay, people, okay! Let me get to the man and do this right
and then you can get back to work and I can get on with catching up
with my fishing.” George placed a hand on
Clark’s shoulder and cleared his throat.
“I’ve known Clark Kent for a lot of years
now. More than either one of us would care to recall,
I’m sure.” A rippled of subdued laughter
tripped around the room. George let it subside and then
continued. “But it’s been one of my
greatest pleasures to have trained Clark and watch his growth as a
reporter. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable retiring
if I wasn’t positive that The
Star was going to be left in
the best of hands. And those hands belong to Clark, without a
doubt. I expect all of you to give Clark the same loyalty and
team spirit that you’ve given me all these years.”
George turned to face Clark and held out his hand. Clark
gripped it firmly. “Thanks, George. The
place just won’t be the same without you around.”
“Hey, I’m retired, not dead!
Don’t be surprised to see me show up now and then just to
make sure you don’t get too full of yourself!”
“As long as you bring along a piece for the Op-Ed page,
you’re more than welcome.”
The staffers were returning to the desks and The City Room was settling
back to normal. George escorted Clark to the office that had
once been his and the pebbled glass door now boasted a new name: Clark Kent
and underneath in a curving arch: Editor-In-Chief.
“I honestly don’t know what to say,
George. I’m not going to lie and say I
haven’t dreamed of this but it’s more than I ever
hoped to achieve.”
“Twaddle! You’ve been the best reporter
in Metropolis for the past 25 years and everybody worth a damn knows
it.”
Clark was looking around for Perry White. “I
don’t see Perry. You don’t think
he’s sore about not getting the promotion do you?”
“Now, now, Clark…Perry White’s more of a
man than that. He phoned me himself to say he’d be
in a little late this morning and to let you know he’d be in
to see you and congratulate you first thing he came in the
door. Now don’t worry about Perry.
He’s a professional. And speaking of professional,
you’d better get in your office and get to work.
You’ve got a newspaper to run.” George
Taylor gripped Clark’s shoulder.
“Don’t hesitate to call if you need advice,
friend.”
“You’ll probably take your phone off the hook;
I’ll be calling you so much. Take care,
George. And don’t be a stranger.”
George Taylor walked off with a jaunty wave and went to speak to some
of the staffers while on his way out. And Clark went into
what was now his office.
He stood in the doorway. He’d been in this office
more times than he could count…well, that actually
wasn’t true. He had complete and total memory
recall and he did know how many he had been in this office over the
years: five million three hundred and fifty thousand times.
But today it was as if he had entered it for the first time.
It was bare, of course. George had taken all of the personal
trinkets, the awards and plaques off the walls and shelves, all the
family photos. Lois would be coming by later with a box of
Clark’s stuff for him to decorate his office but Clark
hadn’t wanted to put his own stuff out just yet. He
wanted to savor the experience and slowly make this office his own-
“Clark!-I mean, Mr. Kent!” Freckle-faced
Jimmy Olson blushed furiously as he burst into Clark’s
office, waving a sheet of paper. “Gee,
I’m sorry, Mr. Kent. Guess I should'a knocked
first, huh?”
“Don’t be silly, Jimmy. Anytime you need
to talk to me, you come right on in. And what’s
this “Mr. Kent” business?
You’ve been calling me Clark for years now.”
“Yeah, but you’re the Chief, now.”
“Nonsense. You go right on calling me Clark or
I’ll bust you back down to cub reporter.”
“Whatever you say, Chief-I mean Clark! But
hey! I’ve got something a lot more important for
you right here! I guess we should have expected it,
though.”
“What is it?”
“Just came over the teletype…Luthor’s
escaped!”
Thunderstruck into silence, Clark took the paper and read it while
Jimmy kept on talking excitedly; “Nobody knows how he got out
of his cell! The two guards assigned to watch him went to get
some coffee and swore on a stack of Bibles he was in his cell when they
left.”
“Why did both of them go to get coffee at the same
time? Luthor was supposed to be watched by at least one of
them at all times!”
Jimmy shrugged. “They were due to take Luthor to
trial in a half hour. I guess they figured they were
safe. Can’t blame ‘em. If
Luthor hadn’t escaped by then-"
“That’s no excuse.” Clark
crumpled up the paper into a tight fist. “Luthor
was probably waiting for just such an opportunity! Blast!”
“Heck a story for your first day, huh?”
“Look, Jim, do me a favor. Grab Beaumont and you
and him get out there and get the story. I want to know
exactly what happened and how.”
“You got it, Chief-I mean, Clark!” Jimmy
dashed from the office and into The City Room, which was now a buzz of
activity. The
Daily Star staff was the best
in the city and they knew their jobs when a big story like this
broke. And it was a good thing, too. Because if
Clark Kent had to be there to actively supervise them, he
couldn’t get away to do what had to be done. Clark
moved through the City Room, fielding excitedly shouted questions and
calmly issuing instructions. He left The City Room and
hurried down the long hallway to the store room. He swiftly
looked up and down the hallway to be sure that nobody would see him
going inside. Clark closed the door firmly behind
him. The store room was filled with the rustling of clothing
being removed and the crisp snapping of a bright crimson cape being
freed.
Thirty seconds after Clark Kent entered the store room the window
opened and once again a familiar blue and red soared through the late
morning Metropolis sky.
Once more, there was a job for Superman.
Alexei Luthor snapped back to consciousness. He was bound
securely to a massive wooden chair that had a disturbingly familiar
look to it. Heavy metal cuffs were locked around his forearms
and ankles and one especially large metal band was around his
chest. He could wriggle slightly but that was it.
He was going nowhere. The chair was in the middle of a
perfect circle of bright white light. The light was bright
enough to prevent Luthor from seeing much past the circle.
But he could see four shadowy forms in the room. But that was
all he could make out. Luthor cleared his throat and spoke
with his usual arrogance; “I demand to know who you are and
why you have bound me like a common criminal. I am Alexei
Luthor and I am certainly not used to be handled in such a
manner.”
“And in what manner should you be handled?
Supposedly you are a brilliant scientist. But judging by your
actions of recent years you are more of a brilliant bumbler.”
Luthor was far too canny and shrewd to bite at such obvious
bait. He narrowed his eyes, trying to peer into the
darkness. The voice was electronically disguised but there
was still something familiar about it. “Bumbler, is
it? Suppose you justify that statement, my friend.
And speaking of friends, where is The Wizard? He magicked me
right out of that cell and into your hands, I suppose.”
“All in good time, Luthor. All in good
time. As for you being a bumbler…what else do you
call a man who has failed so miserably to kill Superman time and time
again?”
“If you think it so easy to kill Superman then you
do it.”
“I suppose I will have to since you seem incapable of doing
so. Your vaunted intelligence is much overrated.”
“Then if you’ve tried to kill Superman and failed,
what gives you the right to question my competence?”
“An example must be made, Luthor. There have been
far too many attempts to kill Superman that have
failed. An example must be made and sent out to the
world at large. I will tolerate no more failures.
Superman must die.”
Luthor threw back his head as best he could and loudly
guffawed. “YOU
will tolerate no more failures? You think highly of yourself,
my friend! And who are you that YOU
will not tolerate failures?”
The room was suddenly illuminated and when Luthor saw who he had been
talking to his mouth went dry as dust and his bowels spasmed
involuntarily. The electronic vocal disguise was dropped as
easily as the darkness had been shed as the titanic form of a giant
albino gorilla shambled forward. But this was no ordinary
gorilla. Its face was far more humanoid that that of a true
gorilla and the eyes blazed with intelligence. The massive
skull was twice as large as that of a normal gorilla and crisscross
with thick ropy veins that pulsed underneath the bare albino
skin. Most the hair on the gorilla’s skull had been
shaved away. Leaving only sideburns, a beard and a flowing mane of
white hair that trailed down its back. The gorilla wore a
crimson and gold armored harness that would have looked more at home on
a Roman Centurion than a gorilla but the beast wore it no less proudly.
Luthor could only gasp in astonishment; “The
Ultra-Humanite! I thought you dead!”
The Ultra-Humanite snorted derisive laughter.
“Come, come, Alexei! How many times have both
of us been thought dead by our hated foes? Especially
Superman? Indeed, there are those who believe that you and I
have a sort of competition going to see who can fake their death the
most. I think you’re ahead.”
The Ultra-Humanite’s eyes were slits of malice.
“However, that is soon to change.”
“I don’t understand this!
Didn’t you send The Wizard to get me out of jail?”
“In fact, I did. He’s right
here.” The Ultra-Humanite swept out a long arm to
indicate the other three forms in the room. Forms that Luthor
knew well. First was the blackly elegant form of The Wizard,
who inclined his head in a slight bow toward the captive.
Next was the Toyman, peering peevishly at Luthor through thick
glasses. The grin of malice on his round face was anything
but peevish, however. And last but certainly not least was
the green-suited Prankster, who was clapping mockingly as he rocked
back and forth in his seat.
“I don’t understand this at all!
I’ve worked with all of you in the past! Many times
have we allied ourselves to try and destroy Superman!”
“’Try’ being the operative word here,
Luthor,” the Ultra-Humanite continued.
“It is long past time we stopped trying and started
doing.”
“Then let me go and we’ll do something!”
“Far too late for that, my friend.” The
Ultra-Humanite knuckle-walked closer, his hideously grotesque face
twisting into what Luthor assumed was the creature’s version
of a smile.
“If you think I’m just going to sit here and take
this without a fight then you’re seriously
mistaken!” Luthor’s right foot tapped
nervously as he glared back at The Ultra-Humanite.
“On the contrary, Luthor. That is exactly what
you’re going to do.”
The magnificent blue-and-red form of The Man of Steel seemed to
brighten the dinginess and dreariness of the interior corridors of
Metropolis Prison as Superman was escorted to Luthor’s former
cell by Maxwell, the Chief Guard.
“After I’ve inspected Luthor’s cell
I’d like to have a word with those men of yours about
professional responsibility, Chief,” Superman said grimly.
“Begging your pardon, Superman, but you’ll have to
wait in line behind me as I have every intention of removing whatever
skin those boyos have left on them once the warden gets through with
them. He’s still chewin’ them out and
they went in there an hour ago. The man’s using
cuss words I honestly think are illegal to use in 14 states.”
Despite himself, Superman had to smile. Maxwell stopped at
Luthor’s cell and said, “Here it is.
I’ve personally searched this cell and I’d stake my
pension that there’s no secret doors, tunnels or any sort of
technology whatsoever in there.”
Superman nodded and went to work with his X-Ray and Microscopic vision
powers working in concert. It didn’t take him more
than 20 seconds to confirm what Maxwell had said. But that
was okay as even that told him something: the only way Luthor could
have escaped was by magic. And that meant The
Wizard. Superman stepped back out of the cell.
“Anything you can tell me, Superman? It sure would
be nice to have some good news for Warden Johnson.”
“Tell him I have a possible lead on how Luthor got out of
there. I think The Wizard is involved.”
“Well…that’s good. I mean, it is,
right?”
“Not really. With The Wizard’s power he
could have transported himself and Luthor anywhere in the
world. They may no longer be in Metropolis. But it
won’t hurt for me to sweep the city with my X-Ray
vision. I may get lucky.” Superman
half-turned away then thought of something and turned back.
“Chief Maxwell, I wonder could I impose upon you and ask a
favor.”
“Name it.”
“A reporter friend of mine from The Daily Star will be coming
here for a story. Maybe you know him? Jimmy
Olsen?”
“Sure, and who in this town doesn’t know
Superman’s pal? I’ll make sure he gets a
good story, Superman. You just watch yourself chasing after
Luthor and The Wizard!”
Superman smiled his thanks and was gone, the gush of wind in his
departure blowing off Maxwell’s cap.
“If I’m to be on trial then shouldn’t I
have a defense lawyer?” Luthor demanded.
His foot was still tapping nervously. He licked sweat from
his top lip but his eyes were bright with defiance as he glared at The
Ultra-Humanite.
“Sadly I must inform you that a defense would be a waste of
the court’s time.” Thick, rubbery lips
parted in a cruel smile that displayed yellowy teeth the size of and
thickness of college textbooks. “You see, Alexei,
you’ve already been found guilty.”
“Then why not simply kill me and have done with it?”
“Your ‘trial’ and execution will be
televised to the criminal underworld. That is why
you’re still alive. The problem is that I am no
longer feared-“
The Wizard theatrically cleared his throat. “-WE
are not feared, Ultra-Humanite.”
The great albino gorilla turned and made a deep bow in the direction of
The Wizard, The Prankster and The Toyman. “I
apologize to my esteemed colleagues. I certainly meant no
disrespect.”
The Prankster leaned forward, his neon-green suit and cartoonish
features giving him the appearance of a clown. But he had
long established a reputation as one of Superman’s most
dangerous adversaries. “Remember you gave your
word, Ultra-Humanite! We’re all equal partners in
this alliance!”
“But of course, my friends! But of
course! We will all benefit from this partnership, believe
me.”
“HAH!” Luthor roared.
“I once made a pact with this hyper metabolic monkey and look
where I am now! Don’t you fools realize that
he’ll do the same thing to you all one day!
Toyman! We’ve been allies in the past! We
can be again! Get me out of here!”
The Toyman shook his head in a vehement, silent negative, causing his
riot of curly blond locks to jiggle wildly.
The Ultra-Humanite turned back to Luthor and clapped his massive paws
together, rubbing them vigorously. “And that, dear
Alexei, is certainly that. Shall we continue with the
trial?”
At that moment the far wall exploded into the room, fist sized chunks
of flying debris causing The Ultra-Humanite, The Toyman and The
Prankster to duck for cover as brilliant sunlight spilled into the
dark, dank chamber. A powerful figure was outlined in the
streaming sunlight, cape flapping behind him. The figure
stepped forward and was revealed as-
“SUPERMAN!” Luthor gasped.
“I never thought I’d say this but I’m
actually glad to see you!”
“I just bet you are,” The Man of Steel replied
grimly. He turned his head and his eyes glowed an intense red
as he directed Heat Vision at the upraised wand in The
Wizard’s hand. The magical wand was instantly
vaporized. “We’ll have no more magic
tricks today, thank you very much. You characters picked the
wrong day to cut your capers.”
The Toyman muttered something unpleasant under his breath and flung a
multi-colored rubber ball the size of a human head at
Superman. It struck his chest and exploded, bright ribbons
bursting from within and wrapping themselves around Superman from head
to toe in a manner of seconds.
“Excellent, Toyman!” The Ultra-Humanite
chuckled. “Prankster, get Luthor and-“but
The Ultra-Humanite saw he was speaking to The Prankster’s
south end as he headed north. Apparently The Prankster had
judged that this situation was not to his liking and was taking the
opportunity to scram. The Ultra-Humanite snarled.
The ribbons burst apart like tissue paper as Superman flexed his
muscles. His cheeks puffed as with a blast of Super Breath he
blew both The Wizard and The Toyman into the far wall hard enough to
knock the both of them out. Superman turned just in time to
catch a devastating right cross from the oversized fist of The
Ultra-Humanite. He flew across the room to smash into a
wall. Massive concrete blocks tumbled onto him as he
struggled to clear his head.
It had been a while since he’d fought The Ultra-Humanite and
he’d forgotten how strong the creature was. He
shoved concrete blocks off of him and stood up just in time to be
crushed under the extraordinary weight of The Ultra-Humanite who had
charged full speed across the room to slam into Superman. The
two of them went completely through the wall and into another, larger
room filled with rusty old generators that no longer worked.
This had been a storage warehouse before The Ultra-Humanite had taken
it over for a hidden lair and he had not bothered removing most of the
junk.
They sailed over a catwalk and hit the floor with a thunderous BOOM!
A normal human would have been nothing but pulp under the savage attack
of The Ultra-Humanite but Superman was far beyond a mortal
man. He was sore, yes. And come tomorrow morning
he’d be feeling his age. But he was more than up to
the fight. His legs thrust into The
Ultra-Humanite’s stomach and shoved. The albino
gorilla went sailing straight up, going right through support beams as
if they did not exist, the metal screeching as it was broken and
shattered.
The Ultra-Humanite came back down as fast as he went up.
Superman was on his feet and his fist sizzled through the air in a
short arc that caught The Ultra-Humanite beautifully in the chest and
the creature’s downward plummet was turned into a sideways
one as he careened across the room to collide with the mass of rusted
generators with a sound like a battleship being blown up.
Superman stalked toward The Ultra-Humanite, who was struggling to get
to his feet. The creature’s hideous face twisted in
a snarl of pure hatred. The thick ropy veins in his forehead
pulsed rapidly and mental energies crackled as a visible aura appeared
around the Ultra-Humanite’s head. Two of the huge
one ton generators rose up into the air as if they weighed no more than
a couple of potato chips. Using his considerable mental
power, The Ultra-Humanite flung them at Superman.
The Man of Steel disappeared under the generators as they fell on him
with a sickening KABOOM!
A massive cloud of dust obscured the generators and The Ultra-Humanite
gibbered and capered like a true gorilla.
The generators trembled. Creaked. Slowly rose in
the air as the dust blew away and Superman stood revealed, raising the
two generators above his head as his face darkened with the
effort. He came erect, the generators held high.
The Ultra-Humanite screamed and directed another mental blast, this
time right at Superman. The Man of Steel threw the two
generators into the path of the mental blast and they were blown apart
into metal shavings. Through the cloud of metal Superman
flew, fist outstretched to catch The Ultra-Humanite right in the
jaw. Superman followed that up with a solid uppercut that
sent the Ultra-Humanite spinning over and over into a somersault to
crash back down on the concrete floor. Out cold.
Superman picked up The Ultra-Humanite by his harness and flew up and
back into the other room where Luthor had been yelling himself
hoarse. “Keep your shirt on, Luthor,”
Superman advised. “You’re safe.
The fight’s over.” Superman quickly flew
up to the ceiling where he tore several support beams free and flew
back down. He used them to bind The Ultra-Humanite and the
still unconscious Toyman and Wizard.
“The Prankster ran that way!” Luthor
said, jerking his head in that direction.
“He was smarter than these three. And for his
smarts he’ll get away. For today. Right
now, it’s much more important I get the three of them locked
up where they belong. And you still have a date with
justice.”
“Doesn’t it count for something that I led you
here?”
Superman smiled grimly. “I have to admit that
tapping ‘Luthor’s
Here’ over and over
again in Morse code with your foot was a pretty clever idea.
Let me guess: you figured that I’d be flying in a crisscross
search pattern over Metropolis using my Super Hearing and X-Ray Vision
to try and find you, right?”
“You’ve captured me that way in the past so I saw
no reason why you’d use a different method.
You’re so predictable it’s pathetic.”
“And yet I keep beating you.” Superman
easily tore free the restraints holding Luthor. He yanked him
to his feet and the tone in his voice was not pleasant.
“And today that predictability saved your life. So
you owe
me, Luthor. And here’s how you’re going
to pay off that debt: whatever sentence the judge hands down
you’re going to serve it. No escape
attempts. For once in your life you’re going to
respect the law.”
“Life Imprisonment?” Lois Kent said in
amazement as she continued to hang award plaques on the wall of
Clark’s office.
“You think that’s too much?”
Clark said from behind his desk where he was quietly smoking his
Straight Billiard pipe. Long ago he found out that Lois loved
the smell of pipe tobacco as it reminded her of her father’s
den.
“Too much! It’s not
enough!” Lois’ eyes flashed
indignation. “As many deaths and havoc Luthor has
caused he should have gotten the chair!”
Clark said softly; “Maybe the judge saw something in Luthor,
honey. Maybe there’s a spark of humanity left in
him that can be nurtured in time.”
“You spoke to the judge, didn’t you, Clark?
Sometimes you amaze me.”
“Me? What reason would I have to ask for leniency
on Luthor’s behalf? He’s tried to kill me
more times than I’ve had hot dinners.”
“So what about this so-called promise that Luthor made not to
try and escape? How do you intend to enforce that?’
“I don’t. I told Luthor that if he was
successful in escaping I’d catch him and when I returned him
to prison I would put him in a cell with The Ultra-Humanite.’
There was a knock on the pebbled glass door of the office and Clark
raised his voice slightly: “Come in!”
The door opened and a grinning, silver-haired face poked into the
room. “Somebody said I could find the
Editor-In-Chief of this rag in here!”
“Perry! Get in here, you son of a
gun!” Clark put his pipe down and came around the
desk to embrace the older man. “You know, you had
me worried. I thought you’d be upset at me getting
the position over you.”
Perry frowned and waved a hand dismissively.
“Nonsense, Clark! I couldn’t be happier
for you! If anybody deserved the job it’s
you. Actually, I was picking this up for you. The
engraver was late opening his shop today and that’s what took
me so long. I didn’t want to walk in here without
giving you this.” Perry gave Clark a plain white
cardboard box. “Sorry I didn’t have time
to wrap it.”
Clark opened the box and gasped in surprise because inside was a
genuine 14 karat gold Hamilton pocket watch. The gasp from
Lois was even louder. “Perry, it’s simply
gorgeous!”
Clark was shaking his head and handing the box back.
“Perry, this must have cost you a fortune. I
can’t accept this.”
“You have to. The inscription inside is one of a
kind. Just for you.” Perry was grinning
like a kid on Christmas morning. “I can’t
very well give it to anybody else. Read it.”
Clark popped the lid open and both he and Lois read the inscription
together:
To My
Dear Friend Clark The
Only Real SUPERMAN I Know
Clark and Lois both lifted their heads and looked at each
other. The same unspoken question going through their
minds. Then they looked at the widely grinning Perry and from
the look in his eyes they had their answer. Clark silently
embraced Perry quietly as Lois stood to one side, tears of total
happiness flowing freely down her face.
THE
END
NEXT ISSUE:
A slight break in the action with this issue as Derrick adds to EARTH
2, but next ish it’s what you’ve been waiting for:
The Trial Of The Century
begins! Be here for “The Trial Of Lex Luthor Part
One:
Opening
Statements”!
