FIC: "Reunion", Part 28/?? (SV, WIP)
This chapter makes references to a previous Reunion’verse story called “The Astounding Adventures of the Brothers El on Sol-3!”, which can be found here.
Previous Parts
PART TWENTY-EIGHT
It was a quiet party that walked towards the empty field, Jor-El noted to himself. He could hear any number of things as his hearing improved - Jonathan Kent snoring as he napped, the girls conversing softly as they washed the lunch-dishes, vehicles traveling up and down a large roadway not too far in the distance - but not one of the four of them spoke. He heard the grasses crunching with each step, and the rustle of clothing - he had never been one to think too much about fashion, but he was amused by the fact that even now Clark wore clothing not much different from what he had worn on Earth nearly two human generations earlier - and nearby also the unfamiliar sounds of terrestrial livestock.
“I’ve just realized,” Lara said softly, tightening her arm around him as they walked, “what this place reminds me of.”
Jor-El glanced up and made sure that Zor-El and Clark did not seem to be listening - though he knew that the newness of the ability might preclude Zor-El’s ability to control it. “And what does it remind you of?” he asked just as softly, not missing a step.
“The O-Wyn colony. You remember, of course - the wildlife preserve, and the agricultural cooperative. The light is the wrong color, naturally, and the vegetation and the animals are different, but there’s some of that same almost-quiet and peace here.” She paused and they stood a moment, looking out into the distance of the flat fields. Smallville and environs, Jor-El knew, was not a typical piece of Midwestern land, too hilly and forested on its outskirts, but generations of skilled agriculturalists had manipulated much of it over the years. This ancestral estate of the House of Kent was no exception. “What I remember most of O-Wyn,” Jor-El finally said, allowing a small smile, “was chasing him chasing kiririm half an afternoon.”
Lara laughed. “Ah, now there’s a memory to hold on to. And then he fell asleep in the outbuilding and the mother kiriri fell asleep next to him, and all her babies, too.” She sobered. “We promised ourselves we’d get him one as pet when he was old enough,” she said, glancing in Clark’s direction. “I think we’ve missed that deadline.”
“I know,” Jor-El replied softly. “But in retrospect, saving his life was more important.” She laughed a little at his half-mocking tone - the laugh proved he’d delivered it just right - and leaned in like she was going to kiss him. At the last second she straightened and glared at something over his shoulder.
Someone, he discovered as he turned to look and saw his brother scowling. An amused light in Zor-El’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.
Clark, on the other hand, had turned just a smidgen red. Jor-El shook his head, smiling inwardly. Youths.
Lara gave him a quick peck after all and dragged him in their direction. “Come, now, Zor-El,” she said with humor in her voice, “what have you against us just now?”
Zor-El raised an eyebrow. “First, we can hear you. Second, we have a task to accomplish before - third - Zod decides to do something else nefarious. And lastly,” Zor-El added, that twinkle in his eye again, “think of your poor son. You know how such displays traumatize boys his age.”
Clark turned redder, sputtered as he tried to say something, and then apparently gave up.
Lara laughed before embracing Clark, hesitating only slightly. Wrapping her arm around him, she said, “We tease with love.”
“I can see that,” Clark told her. He spoke a little awkwardly, Jor-El had noticed, as though he was unaccustomed to actually saying the words that his mind produced - which was true, given that he was now speaking a language he hadn’t heard since he was a small child. And his accent - well, Jor-El knew better than to expect perfection from his son. Though Nimda An-Dor Jor-El would have been horrified…
But his mother had always been difficult to please. Difficult circumstances had always sounded like excuses to her, and this would have been no exception, precious first - and only - grandson or no.
Jor-El shook his head. He and Lara were not his parents, and Kal-El - Clark - would never realize how lucky he was in that respect.
“Lara, Zor,” he finally said, pulling Clark from Lara, “stop teasing him. I’m sure he gets plenty of that from Lois and Chloe and all his other friends - am I right?” That last bit he directed at Clark himself. His son nodded and then looked away, muttering something under his breath: “Yu hev no eidiye.”
It confused him for a moment - it was gibberish - and then he realize it was, in fact, English: You have no idea. An agreement of sorts with what he had just said about the girls…
Clark didn’t seem to notice how he’d surprised them, but Lara and Zor-El certainly had: they were both frowning. Careful not to make a sound, Jor-El mouthed to them “Een-glish” and then made the sign for silence. They both nodded, but before any other communication was attempted between the three of them, Clark turned back, apparently noticing their silence and odd expressions, and said, “What?”
In Kryptonian.
Jor-El held in a sigh. “Let us continue,” he said, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulders. “You must have many questions, perhaps even something I have said that was confusing? I know my English is poor after so many years.”
Clark was quiet for a moment. “Sol-3 means ‘Earth’, right?”
“Yes.”
They walked in silence a moment. Then: “Krypton was destroyed.”
Now Jor-El allowed himself that sigh. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he replied. “Our home is no more.” They walked a few steps before he asked, “Did you know that before?”
Clark paused. “I’d wondered about it, ever since I found out I wasn’t human, but I didn’t know for sure until about two years ago. A scientist had figured out a message you sent with me and he told me that the planet the message came from no longer exists.”
Jor-El passed over his own questions about how Clark had discovered his true origins and focused on the scientist he had mentioned. Surely Swannie was too old by now, if he still lived - no, he was calculating the ages wrong. How typical, to be confused by the simple arithmetic. No, Swannie was only a handful of years older than Jonathan Kent, making him no older than human mid-life. That was easily young enough to still be at work. “I don’t suppose this scientist came from the House of Swann?”
“House of what?” Clark puzzled over it a moment - it was a typical Kryptonian custom, the way he had asked the question, but to one who was raised on Earth, particularly in this part of the planet, it had likely sounded very strange. “Yes,” his son confirmed, though he frowned as he did so. “His name was Virgil Swann. How did you know that?”
Jor-El smiled. “Because I rented a room from his mother while I was on Earth and he was the only human I told the truth to. He was a very intelligent child.”
Looking a little dazed, Clark replied, “He’s supposed to be one of the smartest people on the planet.”
Jor-El laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”
“I should talk to her,” Chloe said, looking out the window after Lois’s question. She couldn’t imagine why Lana had returned after her big fight with Clark that morning - Lana had all the fancy manners and politeness that Nell Potter had drilled into her with aspirations of being someone’s trophy wife, but Lana avoided further conflict whenever she could. She had to know that (alien crises aside) Clark wouldn’t be ready to talk to her again so soon, especially after the accusations about keeping secrets.
Lois stopped her. “No, let me. You guys are friends, and it’s better if she gets pissed at me for telling her to take a hike.”
Chloe sighed. Lois would have been right a few months ago, but… “Look, Lana and I used to be friends. Things have been shaky, especially since she came back from Paris and the whole thing with Jason Teague and the witch thing. If I have to choose between her and Clark, I think you know my answer. It’s better that I talk to her - she’ll trust me when I say it’s not a good time to bother the Kents.”
“Hm,” Lois said; Chloe knew she wouldn’t want to admit defeat, but her next tactic surprised her: “What if she’s Zod?”
Chloe blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Think about it,” Lois told her. “There are only so many people who would ever go into that cave, you know? And it wouldn’t be the first time she was possessed, and we know that she knows where it is. I know everyone keeps saying that Zod’s a dude, and assumes that whoever touched the thingie in the cave must be a guy, too, but Lana’s proven herself to be the perfect puppet for otherworldly megalomaniacs. I mean, on the list of suspects, she’s definitely in the top ten. Top five. Top three, and the only others on the list are Lex Luthor and Farm-boy himself, if only for the irony.”
Chloe considered it. “Okay, there’s a possibility, but she was fine this morning. Something Zod-ish happened last night, didn’t it? That signal we mere mortals can’t hear, before Mr. Kent had his attack?”
“You’re right,” Lois admitted, “but couldn’t that have been some kind of beacon-thingie? Like, it detected Kryptonian technology or life signs or something and went, ‘Woo-hoo! Let’s annoy the white hats!’ or whatever, and the whole possession thing happened later?”
“She was mad at Clark,” Chloe started, musing over the theory, “and she has to know that he spends a lot of time in the caves. I guess she could have gone to take a peek after she drove off…”
As one, they leaned over the sink and stared out the window.
“Shouldn’t she be radiating malice and general evil thoughts, though?” Lois asked. “She’s even wearing pink. Where’s the black leather and stiletto-heeled thigh-high boots?”
“Are you questioning your own theory?” Chloe replied, frowning. “You’ve thought about this way too much.”
“Hey, a good general evaluates all the data,” Lois said. She waited a beat and then added, “And if it turns out he’s wrong, he denies all knowledge. Also, I still have flashbacks to waking up in that same cave. Remind me to burn that bustier. I think I stuffed it into the furthest reaches of your closet.”
“I guess it would make more sense if she was going after Clark and everyone, rather than the house,” Chloe admitted, ignoring her cousin’s fashion comments. It had been an interesting theory, though. “I mean, why go after the humans when you have four Kryptonians in the back forty? Especially the one you apparently hate with all your extraterrestrial guts?”
“You’re right,” Lois admitted with an exaggerated sigh. “Everyone knows Lana Lang’s a fluffy little bunny of a girl anyway.”
Chloe giggled. “Now I’m going to have that running through my head the whole time. Thanks so much, cuz,” she said, pushing herself away from the sink.
“That’s a good soldier,” Lois teased. “I’ve got your back.”
Chloe squared her shoulders and walked to the back door.
“So…” Clark hadn’t been too surprised to realize that Dr. Swann knew more than he’d told him - he was kind of used to that sort of stuff - but that Dr. Swann’s source was Jor-El back in the day, when Dr. Swann was a kid, was a little much to take in.
Plus, he was having trouble seeing Dr. Swann as a little kid. Kind of like trying to picture your parents as kids.
“I’m certain you must have other questions,” Jor-El told him.
Yeah, and I should have written them down because I can’t remember half of them now that you’re actually here and alive and we’re even speaking the same language. But there was one in particular that had been bothering him ever since they’d showed up, one that he had stopped asking when Dr. Swann told him Krypton was gone. He took a deep breath. “Where have you been all these years?” he asked.
There was a glimmer of guilt in Jor-El’s eyes, but for some reason he wasn’t glad to see it. “Your mother and I,” Jor-El answered, “have mostly been living on a space station called Argo City, which is where your uncle and his wife and your cousin also live.”
It was almost difficult to remember that morning, the conversation over breakfast. “You’re not the only ones, right?” he asked. “There are lots of other Kryptonians living there, too, aren’t there?”
Jor-El nodded. “Yes, and on another space station called Kandor, and in a few colonies on other planets.”
“So, lots of other people. Lots of other Kryptonians,” Clark said slowly.
Jor-El looked a little confused, but didn’t say anything. He simply frowned and waited.
Clark nodded. “All right. I mean, I don’t want to say anything weird about growing up on Earth, because I like it here, and I love my-” He caught himself before he said ‘parents’, but Jor-El simply rested a hand on his shoulder and told him, “I am glad you consider the House of Kent your family. That’s what we hoped for, Clark.”
“Right. Anyway,” Clark continued, wanting to get the question out, “if there are all these colonies, and space stations, where other Kryptonians were living, where they survived because they weren’t actually on Krypton, then why did you send me away? Why did you send me to Earth?”
“My son,” Jor-El said softly, “I did what I did with a heavy heart. Had I known that we would survive, I never would have even considered sending you away, but I was so certain of our demise that I had to do something. I had sworn oaths not to leave, and your mother was included in those promises. You were not. I considered sending you to Argo City, to your uncle; Zor-El and Alura would have welcomed you with open arms. I considered the colonies - we treasure our children so greatly that even if I sent you there without any identifying signs, a foundling from the stars as you were here on Earth, you would have been welcomed.
“But I could not send you to your uncle; that would have made my actions obvious - people were suspicious of me because of my old friendship with Dru-Zod: even though it had been over for many years, we think much more in the long term in the Kryptonian culture, compared to what you have probably seen here on Earth. We live longer than humans do; this is in part why your mother and I managed this long - we knew that time and patience would eventually bring us to you. Some wondered if the end of our friendship had been a calculated move in Zod’s plan.
“And I could not send you to the colonies either: I could not take the risk that Dru-Zod had hidden his own followers among the other Kryptonians there, who would wish to do you harm because you are my son. There were other planets - other races we had contact with, but I could never be certain of your safety, thanks to Zod. Earth, in its innocence, the very fact that it was not yet a space-faring civilization, the fact that our two races resemble each other so greatly, was the best choice I could find. And of course I remembered the kindness, the generosity of the people I had met here: of all the bad that I saw, I could not help but see that the good far surpassed it. They can be a great people, Clark, if they wish to be; they have so much promise that I cannot help but believe that one day there will be that light among them to show them the way. I hoped beyond reason that people like Hiram Kent had found you - I remembered, even, that his wife had had a child still in the womb and thought that perhaps that child was grown now and we might be lucky enough that he or she would find you. That this did come to pass, out of all the possibilities that it might not, makes me wonder about the possibility of a supreme force in the universe.
“And in recent times, our people have sometimes forgotten themselves, loving science and knowledge more than they did each other. I knew that if you were found by good people on Earth - by a member of the House of Kent as I hoped beyond reason - that they would never let you forget that you are loved. I would do it again in a heartbeat, beloved child.”
Clark held still as Jor-El smoothed the hair off his face, cupped his cheek, and smiled. “We could not come to you sooner due to the material hardships we suffered after we lost Krypton. Supplies were spread thin, and there was much work to be done. There were few ships capable of traveling so far, and few knew where I had sent you, and none that I could trust. We had to wait until we could do it ourselves. Even this last year, before we left Argo City, I worried that some conspiracy still awaited us and would put you in danger, and it seems that I was right. What might have happened to you had I sent you elsewhere is the stuff of nightmares. We have stepped into disaster here with Zod’s machinations, but it could have been much worse.” Jor-El’s hand dropped back to his shoulder. “We sent you here with all the love in our hearts, and Jonathan and Martha Kent took you in with all that was in theirs, I think, and if that is not a success, then I don’t know what one is.” He laughed a little. “Does that answer your question?”
It took Clark a moment to react; he hadn’t anticipated such a speech, or the way all the paternal affection Jor-El was radiating was twisting his stomach. “Um, yes. Yes, I guess it does.”
“Good. Let’s get to the matter at hand, then,” Zor-El butted in, “if you don’t mind.” He and Lara had caught up to them, Clark realized, and were waiting for them to finish.
“Excellent,” Jor-El said seriously. “I think the heat is the most dangerous ability, so let’s start there.” He pointed at a collection of tree stumps ten and fifteen feet away that he could not have known Clark was already using for that very purpose. “Clark, help your uncle. I’ll assist your mother. I’m out of practice, but I haven’t forgotten everything.”
Clark stared at him and then at Zor-El. Heat-vision was the most embarrassing power; even though he knew that anger could trigger it - just look at what happened to Lara earlier! - he still associated it with Biology 101. He knew how to use it without those thoughts these days - he’d even been refining it recently, practicing on those tree stumps, carving and burning them with his heat vision the way his dad had always whittled wood for the county fair, only bigger - but it was still embarrassing.
He could see that Jor-El was trying to hide his amusement. “It’s not that funny!” Clark retorted.
“Then I’m guessing that you had the same problem I did at first,” Jor-El replied in a teasing tone. “Though it’s unlikely you had the same problem of trying to sit through all of Butterfield 8. Elizabeth Taylor was…” Jor-El paused, looking a little embarrassed himself. “Is she still acting?” he asked.
Okay, that was just a little TMI, Clark decided. “Is she even still alive? She’s old.”
“Never mind,” Jor-El said, looking vaguely incredulous. “Just help Zor-El-”
But he never got to it. He’d been paying so much attention to Jor-El that he’d stopped trying to listen in on his mom and dad, and on the girls, despite not understanding a word any of them said. But now, clear and terrified, he heard Lois scream: “Clark!”
And then the sound of someone falling to the ground.
[end part 28]
99% of Jor-El’s long speech was written months and months ago.
Butterfield 8, for those of us who didn’t live through the ‘60’s (including me!), was a film staring Elizabeth Taylor that was in theaters in late 1960 - a few months into Jor-El’s first stint on Earth. A bit racy for a mainstream film at the time, it featured scenes with Taylor wandering around in her apartment in only her slip, like this. Many thanks to mahaliem for suggesting it.
Previous Parts
PART TWENTY-EIGHT
It was a quiet party that walked towards the empty field, Jor-El noted to himself. He could hear any number of things as his hearing improved - Jonathan Kent snoring as he napped, the girls conversing softly as they washed the lunch-dishes, vehicles traveling up and down a large roadway not too far in the distance - but not one of the four of them spoke. He heard the grasses crunching with each step, and the rustle of clothing - he had never been one to think too much about fashion, but he was amused by the fact that even now Clark wore clothing not much different from what he had worn on Earth nearly two human generations earlier - and nearby also the unfamiliar sounds of terrestrial livestock.
“I’ve just realized,” Lara said softly, tightening her arm around him as they walked, “what this place reminds me of.”
Jor-El glanced up and made sure that Zor-El and Clark did not seem to be listening - though he knew that the newness of the ability might preclude Zor-El’s ability to control it. “And what does it remind you of?” he asked just as softly, not missing a step.
“The O-Wyn colony. You remember, of course - the wildlife preserve, and the agricultural cooperative. The light is the wrong color, naturally, and the vegetation and the animals are different, but there’s some of that same almost-quiet and peace here.” She paused and they stood a moment, looking out into the distance of the flat fields. Smallville and environs, Jor-El knew, was not a typical piece of Midwestern land, too hilly and forested on its outskirts, but generations of skilled agriculturalists had manipulated much of it over the years. This ancestral estate of the House of Kent was no exception. “What I remember most of O-Wyn,” Jor-El finally said, allowing a small smile, “was chasing him chasing kiririm half an afternoon.”
Lara laughed. “Ah, now there’s a memory to hold on to. And then he fell asleep in the outbuilding and the mother kiriri fell asleep next to him, and all her babies, too.” She sobered. “We promised ourselves we’d get him one as pet when he was old enough,” she said, glancing in Clark’s direction. “I think we’ve missed that deadline.”
“I know,” Jor-El replied softly. “But in retrospect, saving his life was more important.” She laughed a little at his half-mocking tone - the laugh proved he’d delivered it just right - and leaned in like she was going to kiss him. At the last second she straightened and glared at something over his shoulder.
Someone, he discovered as he turned to look and saw his brother scowling. An amused light in Zor-El’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.
Clark, on the other hand, had turned just a smidgen red. Jor-El shook his head, smiling inwardly. Youths.
Lara gave him a quick peck after all and dragged him in their direction. “Come, now, Zor-El,” she said with humor in her voice, “what have you against us just now?”
Zor-El raised an eyebrow. “First, we can hear you. Second, we have a task to accomplish before - third - Zod decides to do something else nefarious. And lastly,” Zor-El added, that twinkle in his eye again, “think of your poor son. You know how such displays traumatize boys his age.”
Clark turned redder, sputtered as he tried to say something, and then apparently gave up.
Lara laughed before embracing Clark, hesitating only slightly. Wrapping her arm around him, she said, “We tease with love.”
“I can see that,” Clark told her. He spoke a little awkwardly, Jor-El had noticed, as though he was unaccustomed to actually saying the words that his mind produced - which was true, given that he was now speaking a language he hadn’t heard since he was a small child. And his accent - well, Jor-El knew better than to expect perfection from his son. Though Nimda An-Dor Jor-El would have been horrified…
But his mother had always been difficult to please. Difficult circumstances had always sounded like excuses to her, and this would have been no exception, precious first - and only - grandson or no.
Jor-El shook his head. He and Lara were not his parents, and Kal-El - Clark - would never realize how lucky he was in that respect.
“Lara, Zor,” he finally said, pulling Clark from Lara, “stop teasing him. I’m sure he gets plenty of that from Lois and Chloe and all his other friends - am I right?” That last bit he directed at Clark himself. His son nodded and then looked away, muttering something under his breath: “Yu hev no eidiye.”
It confused him for a moment - it was gibberish - and then he realize it was, in fact, English: You have no idea. An agreement of sorts with what he had just said about the girls…
Clark didn’t seem to notice how he’d surprised them, but Lara and Zor-El certainly had: they were both frowning. Careful not to make a sound, Jor-El mouthed to them “Een-glish” and then made the sign for silence. They both nodded, but before any other communication was attempted between the three of them, Clark turned back, apparently noticing their silence and odd expressions, and said, “What?”
In Kryptonian.
Jor-El held in a sigh. “Let us continue,” he said, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulders. “You must have many questions, perhaps even something I have said that was confusing? I know my English is poor after so many years.”
Clark was quiet for a moment. “Sol-3 means ‘Earth’, right?”
“Yes.”
They walked in silence a moment. Then: “Krypton was destroyed.”
Now Jor-El allowed himself that sigh. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he replied. “Our home is no more.” They walked a few steps before he asked, “Did you know that before?”
Clark paused. “I’d wondered about it, ever since I found out I wasn’t human, but I didn’t know for sure until about two years ago. A scientist had figured out a message you sent with me and he told me that the planet the message came from no longer exists.”
Jor-El passed over his own questions about how Clark had discovered his true origins and focused on the scientist he had mentioned. Surely Swannie was too old by now, if he still lived - no, he was calculating the ages wrong. How typical, to be confused by the simple arithmetic. No, Swannie was only a handful of years older than Jonathan Kent, making him no older than human mid-life. That was easily young enough to still be at work. “I don’t suppose this scientist came from the House of Swann?”
“House of what?” Clark puzzled over it a moment - it was a typical Kryptonian custom, the way he had asked the question, but to one who was raised on Earth, particularly in this part of the planet, it had likely sounded very strange. “Yes,” his son confirmed, though he frowned as he did so. “His name was Virgil Swann. How did you know that?”
Jor-El smiled. “Because I rented a room from his mother while I was on Earth and he was the only human I told the truth to. He was a very intelligent child.”
Looking a little dazed, Clark replied, “He’s supposed to be one of the smartest people on the planet.”
Jor-El laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”
“I should talk to her,” Chloe said, looking out the window after Lois’s question. She couldn’t imagine why Lana had returned after her big fight with Clark that morning - Lana had all the fancy manners and politeness that Nell Potter had drilled into her with aspirations of being someone’s trophy wife, but Lana avoided further conflict whenever she could. She had to know that (alien crises aside) Clark wouldn’t be ready to talk to her again so soon, especially after the accusations about keeping secrets.
Lois stopped her. “No, let me. You guys are friends, and it’s better if she gets pissed at me for telling her to take a hike.”
Chloe sighed. Lois would have been right a few months ago, but… “Look, Lana and I used to be friends. Things have been shaky, especially since she came back from Paris and the whole thing with Jason Teague and the witch thing. If I have to choose between her and Clark, I think you know my answer. It’s better that I talk to her - she’ll trust me when I say it’s not a good time to bother the Kents.”
“Hm,” Lois said; Chloe knew she wouldn’t want to admit defeat, but her next tactic surprised her: “What if she’s Zod?”
Chloe blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Think about it,” Lois told her. “There are only so many people who would ever go into that cave, you know? And it wouldn’t be the first time she was possessed, and we know that she knows where it is. I know everyone keeps saying that Zod’s a dude, and assumes that whoever touched the thingie in the cave must be a guy, too, but Lana’s proven herself to be the perfect puppet for otherworldly megalomaniacs. I mean, on the list of suspects, she’s definitely in the top ten. Top five. Top three, and the only others on the list are Lex Luthor and Farm-boy himself, if only for the irony.”
Chloe considered it. “Okay, there’s a possibility, but she was fine this morning. Something Zod-ish happened last night, didn’t it? That signal we mere mortals can’t hear, before Mr. Kent had his attack?”
“You’re right,” Lois admitted, “but couldn’t that have been some kind of beacon-thingie? Like, it detected Kryptonian technology or life signs or something and went, ‘Woo-hoo! Let’s annoy the white hats!’ or whatever, and the whole possession thing happened later?”
“She was mad at Clark,” Chloe started, musing over the theory, “and she has to know that he spends a lot of time in the caves. I guess she could have gone to take a peek after she drove off…”
As one, they leaned over the sink and stared out the window.
“Shouldn’t she be radiating malice and general evil thoughts, though?” Lois asked. “She’s even wearing pink. Where’s the black leather and stiletto-heeled thigh-high boots?”
“Are you questioning your own theory?” Chloe replied, frowning. “You’ve thought about this way too much.”
“Hey, a good general evaluates all the data,” Lois said. She waited a beat and then added, “And if it turns out he’s wrong, he denies all knowledge. Also, I still have flashbacks to waking up in that same cave. Remind me to burn that bustier. I think I stuffed it into the furthest reaches of your closet.”
“I guess it would make more sense if she was going after Clark and everyone, rather than the house,” Chloe admitted, ignoring her cousin’s fashion comments. It had been an interesting theory, though. “I mean, why go after the humans when you have four Kryptonians in the back forty? Especially the one you apparently hate with all your extraterrestrial guts?”
“You’re right,” Lois admitted with an exaggerated sigh. “Everyone knows Lana Lang’s a fluffy little bunny of a girl anyway.”
Chloe giggled. “Now I’m going to have that running through my head the whole time. Thanks so much, cuz,” she said, pushing herself away from the sink.
“That’s a good soldier,” Lois teased. “I’ve got your back.”
Chloe squared her shoulders and walked to the back door.
“So…” Clark hadn’t been too surprised to realize that Dr. Swann knew more than he’d told him - he was kind of used to that sort of stuff - but that Dr. Swann’s source was Jor-El back in the day, when Dr. Swann was a kid, was a little much to take in.
Plus, he was having trouble seeing Dr. Swann as a little kid. Kind of like trying to picture your parents as kids.
“I’m certain you must have other questions,” Jor-El told him.
Yeah, and I should have written them down because I can’t remember half of them now that you’re actually here and alive and we’re even speaking the same language. But there was one in particular that had been bothering him ever since they’d showed up, one that he had stopped asking when Dr. Swann told him Krypton was gone. He took a deep breath. “Where have you been all these years?” he asked.
There was a glimmer of guilt in Jor-El’s eyes, but for some reason he wasn’t glad to see it. “Your mother and I,” Jor-El answered, “have mostly been living on a space station called Argo City, which is where your uncle and his wife and your cousin also live.”
It was almost difficult to remember that morning, the conversation over breakfast. “You’re not the only ones, right?” he asked. “There are lots of other Kryptonians living there, too, aren’t there?”
Jor-El nodded. “Yes, and on another space station called Kandor, and in a few colonies on other planets.”
“So, lots of other people. Lots of other Kryptonians,” Clark said slowly.
Jor-El looked a little confused, but didn’t say anything. He simply frowned and waited.
Clark nodded. “All right. I mean, I don’t want to say anything weird about growing up on Earth, because I like it here, and I love my-” He caught himself before he said ‘parents’, but Jor-El simply rested a hand on his shoulder and told him, “I am glad you consider the House of Kent your family. That’s what we hoped for, Clark.”
“Right. Anyway,” Clark continued, wanting to get the question out, “if there are all these colonies, and space stations, where other Kryptonians were living, where they survived because they weren’t actually on Krypton, then why did you send me away? Why did you send me to Earth?”
“My son,” Jor-El said softly, “I did what I did with a heavy heart. Had I known that we would survive, I never would have even considered sending you away, but I was so certain of our demise that I had to do something. I had sworn oaths not to leave, and your mother was included in those promises. You were not. I considered sending you to Argo City, to your uncle; Zor-El and Alura would have welcomed you with open arms. I considered the colonies - we treasure our children so greatly that even if I sent you there without any identifying signs, a foundling from the stars as you were here on Earth, you would have been welcomed.
“But I could not send you to your uncle; that would have made my actions obvious - people were suspicious of me because of my old friendship with Dru-Zod: even though it had been over for many years, we think much more in the long term in the Kryptonian culture, compared to what you have probably seen here on Earth. We live longer than humans do; this is in part why your mother and I managed this long - we knew that time and patience would eventually bring us to you. Some wondered if the end of our friendship had been a calculated move in Zod’s plan.
“And I could not send you to the colonies either: I could not take the risk that Dru-Zod had hidden his own followers among the other Kryptonians there, who would wish to do you harm because you are my son. There were other planets - other races we had contact with, but I could never be certain of your safety, thanks to Zod. Earth, in its innocence, the very fact that it was not yet a space-faring civilization, the fact that our two races resemble each other so greatly, was the best choice I could find. And of course I remembered the kindness, the generosity of the people I had met here: of all the bad that I saw, I could not help but see that the good far surpassed it. They can be a great people, Clark, if they wish to be; they have so much promise that I cannot help but believe that one day there will be that light among them to show them the way. I hoped beyond reason that people like Hiram Kent had found you - I remembered, even, that his wife had had a child still in the womb and thought that perhaps that child was grown now and we might be lucky enough that he or she would find you. That this did come to pass, out of all the possibilities that it might not, makes me wonder about the possibility of a supreme force in the universe.
“And in recent times, our people have sometimes forgotten themselves, loving science and knowledge more than they did each other. I knew that if you were found by good people on Earth - by a member of the House of Kent as I hoped beyond reason - that they would never let you forget that you are loved. I would do it again in a heartbeat, beloved child.”
Clark held still as Jor-El smoothed the hair off his face, cupped his cheek, and smiled. “We could not come to you sooner due to the material hardships we suffered after we lost Krypton. Supplies were spread thin, and there was much work to be done. There were few ships capable of traveling so far, and few knew where I had sent you, and none that I could trust. We had to wait until we could do it ourselves. Even this last year, before we left Argo City, I worried that some conspiracy still awaited us and would put you in danger, and it seems that I was right. What might have happened to you had I sent you elsewhere is the stuff of nightmares. We have stepped into disaster here with Zod’s machinations, but it could have been much worse.” Jor-El’s hand dropped back to his shoulder. “We sent you here with all the love in our hearts, and Jonathan and Martha Kent took you in with all that was in theirs, I think, and if that is not a success, then I don’t know what one is.” He laughed a little. “Does that answer your question?”
It took Clark a moment to react; he hadn’t anticipated such a speech, or the way all the paternal affection Jor-El was radiating was twisting his stomach. “Um, yes. Yes, I guess it does.”
“Good. Let’s get to the matter at hand, then,” Zor-El butted in, “if you don’t mind.” He and Lara had caught up to them, Clark realized, and were waiting for them to finish.
“Excellent,” Jor-El said seriously. “I think the heat is the most dangerous ability, so let’s start there.” He pointed at a collection of tree stumps ten and fifteen feet away that he could not have known Clark was already using for that very purpose. “Clark, help your uncle. I’ll assist your mother. I’m out of practice, but I haven’t forgotten everything.”
Clark stared at him and then at Zor-El. Heat-vision was the most embarrassing power; even though he knew that anger could trigger it - just look at what happened to Lara earlier! - he still associated it with Biology 101. He knew how to use it without those thoughts these days - he’d even been refining it recently, practicing on those tree stumps, carving and burning them with his heat vision the way his dad had always whittled wood for the county fair, only bigger - but it was still embarrassing.
He could see that Jor-El was trying to hide his amusement. “It’s not that funny!” Clark retorted.
“Then I’m guessing that you had the same problem I did at first,” Jor-El replied in a teasing tone. “Though it’s unlikely you had the same problem of trying to sit through all of Butterfield 8. Elizabeth Taylor was…” Jor-El paused, looking a little embarrassed himself. “Is she still acting?” he asked.
Okay, that was just a little TMI, Clark decided. “Is she even still alive? She’s old.”
“Never mind,” Jor-El said, looking vaguely incredulous. “Just help Zor-El-”
But he never got to it. He’d been paying so much attention to Jor-El that he’d stopped trying to listen in on his mom and dad, and on the girls, despite not understanding a word any of them said. But now, clear and terrified, he heard Lois scream: “Clark!”
And then the sound of someone falling to the ground.
[end part 28]
99% of Jor-El’s long speech was written months and months ago.
Butterfield 8, for those of us who didn’t live through the ‘60’s (including me!), was a film staring Elizabeth Taylor that was in theaters in late 1960 - a few months into Jor-El’s first stint on Earth. A bit racy for a mainstream film at the time, it featured scenes with Taylor wandering around in her apartment in only her slip, like this. Many thanks to mahaliem for suggesting it.
