The Death and Life of Superman (58 page)

They responded with heavy fire.

“Waste all the ammo you want, I won’t get a scratch. But I
am
getting annoyed!” He walked on through the hail of bullets as though it were nothing more than a light rain, unaware of the fifth Shark who was drawing a bead on him from behind.

“So tell me, where’re you fish getting the heavy artillery? Don’t make me ask twice.”

There was a flash of light and a choked-off scream behind the Man of Steel. John Henry whirled around to find a charred, smoking corpse clutching a slagged Toastmaster. The other Sharks cried out in pain, their weapons suddenly glowing red hot. They dropped the guns, running for their lives, as a second caped figure dropped into their midst.

Inside his armor, John Henry blinked. “Superman?”

“Yes, I am.” The Kryptonian nodded once. “I see your other would-be assailants have scattered like the roaches they are. No matter, they can be rounded up later. Their weapons are now useless; I fused the firing mechanisms. but now, we two must talk. There is much to discuss.”

“I’ll say there is.” John Henry stared long and hard at the visored man. “You—you just killed a man!”

The Kryptonian raised an eyebrow. “I killed one who intended to kill you. They were five to your one.”

“But you could have disarmed him! You didn’t have to
kill
him.”

“No?” The visored man folded his arms. His voice sounded genuinely puzzled. “And was he trying simply to disarm you? What, exactly, is your point?”

“My
point?
! Look, mister, I met Superman once—as a matter of fact, he saved my life.”

“And what do you call what I just did?”

“At the very least, I call it manslaughter! For God’s sake, man, look at me—look at this armor!” John Henry thumped his chest plate. “I wasn’t in any real danger! And even if I had been, the
real
Superman wouldn’t have killed that punk! He never countered the threat of violence with unnecessary force!” The Man of Steel stuck a finger toward the visored man’s face. “You look like the real McCoy, you even sound a little like Superman, but you
act
like a cold-blooded fraud!”

“Fraud?!” The Kryptonian clenched his teeth, unable to hold back a sudden, surging rage. “You—ungrateful—armor-plated—FREAK!”

With one swift left uppercut, the Son of Krypton punched the Man of Steel back through one side of an adjacent building and clear out the other. He eyed the armored man’s trajectory with bitter satisfaction. Then, still seething with anger, he dove after the Man of Steel.

In a diner several blocks away, Jimmy Olsen sat across from Lois Lane and self-consciously dragged a french fry through a glob of catsup on his plate.

“So . . . uh, how are you holding up, Lois? I mean . . . geez, I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I? It’s just that I’ve been worried about you, but things have been so crazy—”

“That’s all right, Jimmy.” She slowly stirred her coffee, adding a couple of ice cubes from her water glass. “The whole world’s gone a little crazy. But I’m getting by about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances.”

“Yeah, I know it’s rough. Bad enough that we lost Superman, but Mr. Kent—Clark—”
Ah, shut up, Olsen.
He stuck the fry in his mouth and chewed.
This must be killing her. After all these weeks, he can’t possibly still be alive. If they’d only find his body, at least then we’d know.
“Well, if you ever want to, you know, talk about it . . .”

“I know, Jim. Thanks.” Lois took a tentative sip of the coffee; still too hot.
I wish I
could
tell you. That’s the maddening thing. The public thinks that Clark was buried in all the destruction that Doomsday caused. I know that he wasn’t, but that’s about all I know!

Lois’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a low crashing noise. The whole building seemed to shake. “What was that?!”

“I don’t know. It sounded like a train wreck!” Jimmy jumped to his feet and threw down a few bills to cover the check. “Trouble in the subway maybe. Let’s check it out!”

Lois and Jimmy exited the diner and were nearly knocked over by a stream of people running down the street. One man was shouting that Judgment Day had arrived. Jimmy was just popping the lens cap off his camera when a bearded man in a long flowing robe calmly walked by. The bearded man took one look at them and brought his palms together as if in prayer.

“Make your peace! The hour is at hand!”

“Sure thing.” Jimmy smiled and adjusted his lens setting.

Lois gently touched the man on the arm. “Do you know what’s going on down the street? Besides the Hour of Judgment, I mean?”

“The great Superman is risen and walks among us!” The bearded man bowed his head reverently. “Even now he does battle with an impostor—an armored son of Satan—over on Larson Boulevard!”

Just fifty yards from where Larson emptied into Glenmorgan Square, the Son of Krypton hurled John Henry headfirst through a video arcade. The Man of Steel erupted from the corner building in a shower of safety glass and flew on for several feet before skidding to a halt in the middle of the boulevard.

The Kryptonian stalked through the shattered storefront arcade after the armored man, glass crunching under his feet. People scattered at his approach as he glowered down at his fallen opponent.

“Could one ‘fraud’ so easily defeat another? I think not. Fool! I could have eliminated that entire gang, but I did not. Their lives were base, meaningless . . . yet I was merciful. Remember that. Remember, too, that I was merciful t
o you
as well!”

On the surrounding sidewalks, onlookers kept a cautious distance, but enraptured cultists pushed out into the streets, chanting the name of their chosen savior. “Superman . . . Superman . . . Superman!”

The Kryptonian looked out upon the crowd and held up his hand for silence. “Hear me, good people! I am indeed the one true Superman. And I will suffer no pretenders to my good name.”

Suddenly, the Man of Steel bounded to his feet and, in one smooth motion, thrust his sledgehammer like a battering ram into the visored man’s gut. “I’m not pretending. I mean to seriously kick your butt!”

Onlookers ducked down behind parked cars as the Man of Steel leapt onto the Kryptonian. John Henry grabbed both ends of his hammer’s thick steel handle and held it down across the visored man’s chest, pinning him to the pavement.

“ ‘The one true Superman,’ huh? The man I admired
never
spoke like that! The way I see it,
you’re
the pretender! Just a little tin god with a cape. Or maybe a metahuman with messianic delusions.”

“The only delusions are
yours
!” The Kryptonian kicked up with his feet, flipping the Man of Steel over him.

As the two men scrambled to their feet, cultists in the crowd began to cheer on their particular choice for messiah.

“Destroy him, Superman. Destroy the metal demon!”

“Fool! The true demon is he who hides his eyes. Destroy him with your holy hammer, Man of Steel!”

Whether because of or in spite of the cheering, the two caped men were showing every sign of continuing their fight when they were brought up short by a woman’s angry cry: “Stop it! Both of you—!”

Lois Lane pushed her way through the crowd, with Jimmy Olsen following close behind. She pointed an accusing finger from one Superman to the other. “Settle down, you two, and listen to me!”

Lois stepped boldly between the two caped men, and Jimmy stuck close to her side, trying to look as big and authoritative as he could.
I hope Lois knows what she’s doing.
The young photographer’s hands felt clammy as he gripped his camera.

“Look at you! Just look at you!” The reporter’s voice burned with outrage. “You’re brawling like a couple of playground bullies, battling for turf. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

The Kryptonian was the first to find his voice. “Ms. Lane, I initially sought only to stop this impostor from using my insignia.”

“Your
insignia?!” Lois’s eyes were daggers. “The jury’s still out on that one! But regardless, you’ve both dishonored Superman’s name with this senseless fight! You could have hurt or killed someone! Would you want that stain on ‘your’ insignia?”

The Man of Steel lowered his hammer. “You are absolutely right. I didn’t seek this fight, and I didn’t throw the first punch. But I gave as well as I got—almost without thinking about it.”

John Henry looked around them, surveying the path that their battle had taken. “Dear Lord, look at the damage we’ve caused!”

The Kryptonian felt stirrings of shame and was troubled by the feeling. He glanced at Lois, then quickly looked away.
The woman’s eyes . . . haunt me! It is as though she were trying to look into my soul!
“I . . . also regret my actions. They were perhaps ill-advised. I will make amends for any damage we have caused.”

“We both will.” John Henry looked full into the Kryptonian’s visored face. “You know, I never laid claim to the name of Superman. I wear this shield and this cape to honor the man who gave me back my life. Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say that you find anything wrong in that?”

The Son of Krypton stood silent for several moments, considering the question. “Put in those terms—no, I cannot.” The words came slowly, and with some difficulty. “I . . . am sorry.”

Jimmy looked through his viewfinder at the visored man, trying to see his eyes.
Maybe this guy
is
Superman! Lois seemed to get through to something in him.

“Hold it right there! Don’t any of you move!” To the astonishment of all, a thin, balding man in a bad suit shoved his way through the crowd and came running toward them, a sheath of papers in hand.

Now what?
thought Lois. “I beg your pardon, sir, but if you’re with the police, I’d like to see a badge!”

“Police?” The balding man almost laughed. “Naw, I’m no cop. I’m a process server!” He smacked his papers against the Kryptonian’s chest. “This is to give notice that you gents are in violation of a trademark held by Rex Leech Enterprises. Mr. Leech’s client, and his client alone, has rights to the Superman name and insignia. You are to cease and desist from all such usage immediately. Got that?”

“No.” The Kryptonian grabbed hold of the papers. “Got this?” Energy erupted from his hand, burning the papers so quickly that they seemed to disappear.

The process server, a hardened fellow who was seldom surprised, backed away, his eyes wide. “Hey! You can’t do that! Those papers—!”

“The fate of your papers is the least of your worries!” The visored man took a step forward and reached for the balding man.

“Ogod! Ogod, help!” The process server turned and bolted away.

The Kryptonian was about to follow when the Man of Steel brought the handle of his sledgehammer down around the other caped man, getting him in an improvised choke hold.

“Hold it!” John Henry spoke calmly and deliberately. “I don’t know what this is all about, but it should be settled in the courts, not in the streets!”

“No!” The Kryptonian spit out the word. “That man’s insolence demands punishment now! Unhand me!”

“Not until you cool down!” As his captive squirmed in his hands, the Man of Steel glanced quickly at Lois and Jimmy. “I don’t know how long I can hold him, but I’m going to get him out of here before someone gets hurt. Stand back!”

Lois and Jimmy jumped back as John Henry’s rocket boots ignited. The next instant, the two Supermen shot away into the night sky.

“So much for my peacemaking efforts.” Lois watched ruefully as they disappeared from view. “Where will this all end?”

Three miles high over Metropolis, the Kryptonian continued to struggle in the Man of Steel’s grasp.

“What does it take to make you listen to reason?” John Henry strained his suit’s micromotors to maintain his hold on the man. “You can’t go around frying people who cross you!”

“No one tells me what I can or cannot do. I am Superman!”

“Sorry, Shades. The high-and-mighty routine doesn’t impress me.”

“No? Then perhaps this will.” The Kryptonian began adding his own powers of flight to their climb. “You want to fly? Well, let’s just see how high and fast we can go!”

“Stop, you idiot!” John Henry upped the amplification on his voice. “I said,
stop!”
But the Kryptonian only flew faster.

John Henry sealed his suit, activating its emergency oxygen system as the air grew thinner around them. “You’ll send us into orbit!”

The Man of Steel cut power to his rockets and tightened his grip on the Kryptonian, but it did little good. The man he held captive had taken control of the flight. The two men sped upward, constantly accelerating. John Henry had built his armor well, but he knew that they’d soon hit escape velocity, and his armor hadn’t been designed for extended operation in a vacuum.
I hate to turn this maniac loose while he’s so dangerously angry, but I don’t have much choice. I have to save myself while I can. No sense in dying out in space!
He released his hold on the Kryptonian, kicking away from the other men and firing his rockets to ensure their separation.

John Henry fell tumbling away in a great downward arc and blacked out. He finally came to many miles above the Sierra Nevada, though it took him several precious moments to realize just where he was. When he saw the wide blue expanse of the Pacific stretching out ahead of him, he knew that he was in trouble.
My God
,
he must’ve thrown us into a suborbital ballistic path! Airspeed indicator is pegged. If I’m not already at terminal velocity, I’ve got to be close!
He was starting to feel the heat of reentry.

Fighting to right himself, the Man of Steel plunged Earthward, ticking off the seconds in his head. He fired his boot rockets in short, even bursts, hoping to slow his speed to something survivable.
It should work . . . if my fuel holds out.

Just a few thousand feet above the outskirts of Coast City, California, he was down to a more manageable air speed. The Man of Steel grabbed the edges of his cape and stretched out in free fall, conserving his fuel supply for one last final brake and steer maneuver. Here, after all those long minutes of desperate activity, he was almost able to relax.
This must be how hang gliders feel.