The Death and Life of Superman (65 page)

In LexCorp Tower, Supergirl was having words with her lover. “Will you listen to me, Lex? Something just doesn’t feel right about this warning from the Cyborg, about his clone having a breakdown. I’ve met the boy, and he just doesn’t seem the type to fall apart like that.”

“One never knows, dear. The child’s life experiences are limited, after all.”

“I don’t care. I don’t believe it!” Supergirl leaned down and tapped her fingernail on Luthor’s desk, inadvertently gouging the solid oak. “The Justice League has gone off into space, when—for all we know—the menace could still be hiding here on Earth. I think this situation could stand a little outside investigation.”

“Oh, no!” Luthor grabbed her by the arm. “I’ve already dispatched the Man of Steel to the West Coast. This city can’t spare you, love. We need you right here—!”

Supergirl pulled away from him. “That’s what you said when Doomsday fought Superman. I didn’t go to help till the last minute, and Superman died. I’m not waiting around this time, Lex—I’m going to Coast City.”

Luthor was nonplussed; she’d never outright defied him before. He was desperately trying to think of another line of argument when the phone rang. He snatched up the receiver angrily. “Whatever this is will have to wait! I’m—
what?
A mechanical monster?!”

Halfway to the window, Supergirl paused and wheeled about, hands on hips. “Lex Luthor, if you think you can trick me into staying, it won’t work.”

Luthor put his hand over the phone, “It’s no trick, love. One of our air freight pilots is on the phone. Some sort of robotic beastie has swum ashore at O’Hara Field, and he’s attacking the Man of Steel. Here.” He held the phone out to her. “If you don’t believe me, talk to the pilot yourself!”

Superboy descended from the stratosphere over Metropolis, so exhausted from his ordeal in Engine City and the cross-country flight east that he was having trouble even thinking straight.
Where should I go first. WGBS? City Hall? My manager’s office?

As the Boy of Steel dropped down over midtown, he saw a red and blue blur streak away from LexCorp Tower and head for the mouth of the harbor.
Supergirl? Where’s she headed in such a hurry?
No sooner had the question crossed his mind, than a bright flash and a booming rumble came from the airfield on St. Martin’s Island.

“Geez, is someone bombing O’Hara?”
Bombing? Oh, no . . . don’t tell me the Cyborg’s started already!
Without a moment’s hesitation, Superboy shot after the Girl of Steel.

At the end of runway three, the Battle Suit automatically reacted to Steel in much the same way it had to the giant squid. The sudden electrical discharge knocked John Henry back some thirty feet and tripped every microcircuit breaker in his armor. He lay motionless on a grassy strip between runways, waiting for his suit to reset itself and power back up, quietly giving thanks for his armor’s high-resistance insulation.

He was just starting to move again when Supergirl swooped down beside him. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.” John Henry braced himself against his hammer and pulled himself to his feet. “Whatever you do, watch out for that hunk of junk—and keep airborne. The volts it can generate pack quite a wallop; you won’t want to be grounded if it cuts loose again!”

“Don’t worry. I pack a pretty mean wallop myself!” Supergirl turned and flew headlong at the Battle Suit. When she was just outside its reach, she unleashed her psychokinetic blast.

The Battle Suit was flung backward half the length of the runway, digging up a huge furrow in the tarmac as it skidded to a halt. But the huge metal figure quickly sprang to its feet and lurched toward Supergirl and Steel.

Before the Battle Suit had covered half the distance to the two caped figures, Superboy suddenly dropped down out of the sky and grabbed the walking tank by its shoulders. His wild talent burst forth, and the Battle Suit simply toppled over, its robotic-looking head and limbs falling apart into their component pieces under his touch.

Superboy leapt away from the fallen remains of the Battle Suit, landing next to Supergirl and Steel. Exhausted, the boy’s knees folded. Steel grabbed hold of him, easing him to the ground. Lois Lane came running up as Superboy sat down on the edge of the runway. The Boy of Steel looked up at them, trying desperately to talk between breaths. “We got trouble . . . big trouble . . .”

Just a few feet away, a LexCorp helicopter set down and Luthor came running out. “I saw it all. Very impressive, son!”

Supergirl elbowed Luthor in the ribs. “Not bad for someone who’s supposed to be unstable, is he, Lex?”

“Huh?” Superboy was finally finding his wind. “Unstable? Who’s unstable?”

“You are, according to the Cyborg.” The Girl of Steel gently touched him on the arm.

“What? Why, that lying creep, I might’ve known! He’s the one who’s responsible for wrecking Coast City! And he wants to do the same to Metropolis!”

The stunned silence that followed Superboy’s news was suddenly broken by a loud metallic clank as the chest cavity of the Battle Suit split open, releasing its flotation fluid. Steel and Supergirl stepped protectively in front of Lois and Luthor, and Superboy scrambled to his feet as a hooded, black-clad figure unfolded from the wreckage, the fluid sluicing off him like water from a duck’s back.

“Hold it right there, mister!” John Henry held his hammer like a quarterstaff, ready to carry on the attack if need be. “Before you take another step, there’re a few things we’d like explained—like who you are and why you attacked us!”

“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I never intended any violence; the Battle Suit’s defensive programming is still a little over-reactive. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone.” The Man in Black peeled away his breathing mask along with the hood of his bodysuit, revealing a strong jaw and an unruly forelock; sunlight gleamed off the silver S-shield on his chest. “Don’t let this outfit fool you—it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I know this is hard to believe, but I’m Superman.”

This time, the astonished silence was broken by Lex Luthor. “You’ll forgive me, sir, if I’m skeptical. You’re hardly the first claimant to that name.”

“So I’ve heard.” Superman looked at Superboy and then at Steel; both regarded him with suspicion. “So I see.” He nodded briefly to Supergirl, and then he turned toward Lois. “What do you think, Ms. Lane? Surely you recognize me?”

Lois dug her nails into her palm, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the others. His face, his voice, his posture, everything about him said
Superman,
but it was just too much to hope for. “I . . . don’t know.”

“If I could have just a little of your time . . . in private.” Superman walked boldly toward her.

Steel stepped between them, shielding the reporter, and grabbed the Man in Black by the shoulder.

“Hey!” Superman grimaced in pain. “Not so hard!”

John Henry brought up his hammer again. “If that little squeeze can hurt you, there’s no way you’re really Superman!”

Superman shrugged out of Steel’s hold. “Look, I’ve been through a lot. It’s pretty clear that I’m a long way from regaining my full strength—that’s why I had to rely on that suit over there to get back to the city.” He turned again to Lois. “But I
am
Superman. Ms. Lane, I know that I can convince you. Just give me five minutes.”

The reporter was uncertain; she’d been down this road before. “If you could tell me something—anything—to give me a reason to listen . . .”

Superman thought for a moment; what could he say in front of the others? “How about,
To Kill a Mockingbird
?”

Lois’s eyes went wide.
That was Clark’s all-time favorite movie!
“All right. I’ll go with you . . . I’ll hear you out.” Her heart was pounding so hard, she was afraid the others could hear it.

Superman could hear it, and he smiled.

“Hey, whoa! Hold it!” Superboy pushed forward into Superman’s path. “We’ve got more important things to worry about than whether or not you’re really Superman!”

“Oh?” Superman stared down at the Boy of Steel. “Such as?”

“Such as Coast City! It’s gone, man. Wiped out. Leveled! And the Cyborg phony is behind it all. He’s in league with a big ugly mother named Mongul, and they’ve got some cockeyed plan to turn the Earth into . . . into some kinda WarWorld!”

“What?!” Superman grabbed hold of the boy. “When did this happen?”

“Just a minute, now.” Luthor held up a hand, trying to maintain some degree of authority. “This lad may be overwrought. The Cyborg said—”

“The Cyborg was lying through his teeth.” Lois gave Luthor a dirty look. “Just like he lied about being Superman.”

Superman looked Superboy straight in the eye. “I believe you. I’ve had dealings with Mongul before. Tell us about his plan.”

Half an hour later, Superman and Lois walked inside a LexCorp hangar. Superman spent a moment looking the place over. “My eyes don’t focus as finely as they used to, but I can still see through most solid objects. There are no signs of any security cameras or listening devices in here. This should be private enough.” He looked at her with a longing that was almost painful. “I know this must be hard on you.”

“Yes, it is.” Lois looked down, avoiding his eyes. “I’m sorry . . . the others—there were so many wild claims. I still just don’t know. Some of the others knew things, too.”

“Did the others know about the time I gave you my mother’s engagement ring?” He took her hand. “Did they know the hour and day that Clark Kent told you he was Superman? Did they know about the time we flew off to the mountains to talk out our problems?”

“No . . . no, they didn’t.” Tears came to her eyes. “I want you to be alive so very much, but you died. I held you in my arms and you died. People don’t just come back from the dead—not even Superman.”

“Lois, look at me. Just look at me!” He took her in his arms. “I don’t understand this any more than you do. I remember fighting Doomsday, and you telling me that I’d stopped him. And then, nothing. There’s just this gray haze, like a forgotten memory of a dream. But I have the strangest notion that Pa was there, too.”

“Your father—?” Lois’s eyes went wide. “J-Jonathan had a heart attack. He’s all right now; his doctors expect a complete recovery. But when he came to, he said that you’d come back with him.”

“I—I can’t remember anything about that.” Superman shook his head. “Just the haze. And then I came to in the Fortress. The robots said the Eradicator brought me there.”

“The Erad—?”

“One of my replacements—the one with the visor. Funny, I’d have thought that he’d be the big problem, if any of them would. I have no idea who this Cyborg character is, but he has to be stopped.”

“Clark.” The name slipped off her lips quietly. “Clark, if your powers aren’t all there, how can you think of going—?”

“I don’t want to, honey. I wish I could run off with you somewhere and never come back, but I can’t. No one is safe with Mongul and that Cyborg on the loose. I have to do whatever I can to stop them. It’s a job for Superman.”

He held her tight and kissed her full on the lips. “Just remember, Lois . . . no matter what happens . . . I will always love you.” Then he turned and walked from the hangar.

Lois’s breath caught in her throat.
My God . . . that’s exactly what he said just before he faced Doomsday that last time.
She ran to the door of the hangar and saw her Superman striding away across the tarmac. For a moment, he slowed down and cocked his head to one side, as if listening to something far away. Then he picked up the pace, nodding to himself, and headed over to where the others waited with Luthor beside the big jet.

Lois watched as they conferred for several minutes. Then Luthor shook hands with all three Supermen, and they boarded the jet headed for Coast City—or as close as they could get.

In the wake of Superboy’s escape from Engine City, Mongul had stepped up construction of the cluster bomb earmarked for Metropolis and proudly reported to the Cyborg on the progress that had been made. “In a matter of hours, we’ll be ready to reduce that infernal city to ash.” The Cyborg was most pleased. “We are close to the realization of our dream, Mongul. With Metropolis leveled and a second drive engine complex built on its site, we will be able to transform this planet into a spacegoing vessel and blast free of the sun’s orbit.”

“Yes, then WarWorld will truly be reborn!” Mongul was elated. “I savor the irony of it all! I’ll turn Superman’s planet into the mightiest weapon the galaxies have ever known. Countless worlds shall once again cower before my military might!”

“Cower before
whose
might, Mongul?” The Cyborg’s eyes flashed red. “Never forget which of us is the servant and which is the master! You live but to carry out
my
wishes!” From his eyes poured radiant heat of such intensity that it drove Mongul to his knees. “You were nothing but a has-been—a washed-up warlord living in exile on a backwater world when I found you. If the universe cowers before anyone, it shall cower before me!”

The Cyborg turned and stalked off down a corridor, almost running into Mongul’s steward Jengur, and Malyk, one of the city’s engineers. The small furry alien and his pale green companion scurried to get out of the way, cowering as the Cyborg passed.

Malyk’s wattles trembled as he watched the Cyborg disappear around a corner. “That one disturbs me. Why did he want this planet so badly? And why has Mongul tolerated him? Is he truly that powerful?”

“He is. Powerful and strange; disturbing and disturbed. I know his story. Came across the truth while scrubbing old files from ship’s data systems. You’re my friend . . . I’ll tell you.” Jengur looked around cautiously. “The Cyborg was once an Earthling, a scientist called Hank Henshaw who commanded a crude spacecraft, a shuttle, the
Excalibur
by name. On his ship’s last flight, Henshaw and his crew went through a radiation storm. The effects of the radiation slowly killed his crew, and Henshaw was just barely able to save the last member, his wife, with the help of Superman.”

“Superman?” Malyk looked confused. “The one whom he and Mongul hate?”