The Death and Life of Superman (68 page)

John Henry looked at him curiously. “What are you shooting now?”

Superman reached up and pulled a cracked lens from within the shattered wall panel and tossed it to the armored man. “Hidden surveillance device. Remember how I said the walls have eyes and ears? The more of them we poke out, the more freely we can talk.”

Steel studied the lens for a moment and then crushed it in his hand. “Well, I’m glad your X-ray eyes are still sharp enough to spot ’em. That’s a little beyond my expertise.”

Superman suddenly jerked back, grimacing so painfully that the other man held out a hand to steady him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. I felt a sudden . . . presence.” Superman raised a hand to his head and rubbed his left temple. “Oh, Lord, of course. It’s the Eradicator!”

“The what?”

“He was one of the many new Supermen—the one with the visor. We once shared a sort of mental link, and apparently it’s still partially functional. He’s on his way here.”

“Is that good?” John Henry tightened his grip on his hammer. “I had a nasty run-in with him not that long ago.”

“So I heard. I don’t know, Steel. At the moment, I think we all share a common enemy.”

Before Superman could explain further, a ray blast was fired in their direction from a hidden sniper’s nest down the corridor, missing them by no more than a foot.

Staying low, the two men charged down the corridor, only to find a mangled targeting robot.

“What the devil?” Steel poked at the robot’s smoking remains with the end of his hammer. “This thing tried to blast us, but what blasted
it
?”

Superman grinned tightly. “Looks like the handiwork of my secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?
What
secret weapon?!”

Superman glanced up and down the corridor. “It’s all right. The coast is clear; you can show yourself. Come on out and take a bow.”

To Steel’s surprise, Supergirl shimmered into sight. She stood with one foot up on the remains of the robot sniper, smiling sweetly and wiping lubricant off her hands.

“Hello again, Mr. Steel. We seem to keep meeting under battlefield conditions.”

“Supergirl!” John Henry took her offered hand. “You mean you’ve been with us the whole time?”

“Uh-huh, ever since Metropolis. How did you think that Superman made that big jump down the missile silo?”

“I apologize for keeping you in the dark about this, Steel, but the fewer of us who knew Supergirl was here, the less chance there was of accidentally tipping off the enemy.” Superman began to break down his weapons. “Supergirl, do you mind filling him in while I reload?”

“Not at all. You see, Mr. Steel, when Superman first reappeared back at the airfield, I had a feeling that he might be for real. After he spoke with Ms. Lane, I could tell that she believed in him, too. And that was good enough for me. I mean, she first met him years ago—even named him, for heaven’s sake. So I snuck up beside him and offered my help. In my invisible state, I’m virtually undetectable, and Superman immediately saw how useful that would be. Since Lex had already arranged that jet transport for you, I just slipped on board. Along the way, I briefed Superman on what had been going on in his absence. And once we all deplaned, I flew ahead and played advance scout. Ever since you got to Engine City, I’ve been making surveillance sweeps and secretly providing cover.”

Superman finished snapping new clips into his weapons. “Again, Steel, I’m sorry that we kept this from you.”

“No problem. It was a sound tactic, and after all, you didn’t know me from Adam. Now I’m more convinced than ever that you are the man!” Steel reached up, loosened two hidden clasps, and removed his mask. “You probably don’t remember me, but you saved my life once. My real name’s John Henry Irons. I used to be an engineer.”

Superman took John Henry’s hand, grasping it warmly. “I do remember you. You were working the high steel when that other man fell. You’ve done me proud, John Henry.”

“Thanks, man, that means a lot, coming from you. It’s gonna be all right. We’ll nail these world-bashers together!”

“I hope so. I’d like my second lease on life to last awhile longer.”

“It will!” Supergirl put her hand on Superman’s shoulder.

“Damn straight it will!” John Henry resecured his mask and stood with his hammer at the ready. “I owe you my life, Superman. The world was a mighty cold place without you around.” He looked him straight in the eyes. “When this is all over, though, I wouldn’t mind hearing exactly
how
you came back from the dead!”

Superman clapped the armored man on the back. “I’d like to know that myself. Maybe we can find the answer together. But right now, our main objective has to be shutting down the city’s power supply.” He gestured down the wide tunnel. “From what Supergirl’s told me and from what I’ve been able to scope out on my own, this corridor should take us there. Everybody ready?”

“Ready.” Supergirl flung back her cape and took a step up into the air.

“Ready and loaded for bear.” Steel brought his hand up, slapping his palm against Superman’s.

“All right then, let’s move out. Supergirl, you take the lead.” The Girl of Steel faded from sight, and a rush of wind shot down the corridor ahead of the two men.

Several hundred yards away, the Cyborg sat deep within the core of the City Systems Room, plugged into the computer array that monitored and controlled the temperature, humidity, and air pressure within the great city. A score of cables linked him directly with the computer, and his mind reached out through the system, looking for any disturbances. Slowly he became aware of slight increases of temperature in the city’s lower corridors and knew that he had found traces of heat emitted from the bodies of his quarry. The Cyborg allowed more and more of his consciousness to seep into the system, reaching out to pinpoint the locations of Superman and Steel.

“Fools!” His voice was a ghostly echo amid the computers. “They thought they could escape my detection. But nothing can long elude me within my Engine City. Let them knock out
all
the surveillance systems, and I would
still
find them. All that happens within these walls is mine to know!” His voice grew softer, and his eyes went blank, as more and more of his mind diffused through the system. “Nothing happens here of which I am not aware—nothing.”

Alone in the city’s master control, Mongul lounged back in a thronelike command chair, watching the Cyborg over a specially shielded closed-circuit monitoring system. “So you say.” Months of frustration boiled out of the warlord, and he talked back to the screen. “So you truly believe, no doubt. But that is only another delusion that you nurture. The time you spent wandering alone in space was not kind to you, dear ‘Master.’ ”
It is best that I finally terminate this most unequal partnership, and clearly the time to strike is now, while the mad one’s mind is so preoccupied with tracking his challengers.

His challengers . . .
The thought intrigued Mongul. If anything, he felt that his hatred of Superman was more genuine than that of the Cyborg’s.
My hatred, at least, has a basis in fact. The Cyborg thought Superman dead, but he was wrong about so many other things.

Mongul called upon his computers to create a hologram of the latest Superman, based upon the various surveillance and broadcast images. He had the face magnified and enhanced and studied it from every angle.

Yes, I could almost believe that this man in black is truly the accursed Kryptonian returned from the grave. Weakened though he may be, there is a look of determination about him. He reminds me all too well of the Superman who dealt me my only major defeat. I shall deal with him . . . later.

Mongul signaled for his attendants, and Jengur appeared on the run with Malyk in tow.

“Prepare my flagship for departure, Jengur—under conditions of strictest secrecy.”

“At once, Lord Mongul!” The furry little man jumped to obey.

“And you—initiate engine-core ignition procedures.”

Malyk was shocked by the command. “But Lord Mongul, sir—without balancing engines, this planet will spin out of orbit! It could rip itself apart!”

“I know.” Mongul rose up from his throne. “I have had quite enough of these Supermen and their backward little world. Let it be destroyed! I’ll fashion a new WarWorld elsewhere!”

Malyk froze in place at the control board. Leveling a city was one thing—he had assisted in hundreds of such operations—but the thought of literally shattering a planet left him paralyzed. He couldn’t bring himself to start the giant drive engine.

Mongul swung out an arm and backhanded the green-skinned engineer away from the controls. “One side, dolt! I shall do it myself!” The warlord imperiously flipped a row of switches, then opened an access panel and pulled out a heavily cabled black box. “This is the drive system fail-safe, is it not?”

Malyk bobbed his head meekly and shrank back into the corner of the room.

Mongul ripped the fail-safe free and crushed it under his foot. “There can be no stopping the engine now.” He looked back at his closed-circuit screen; the Cyborg sat unmoving. “And I’ll never again bow down before you, you mad halfling! Seek out the true Superman for me—if he is the true one—and we shall have a game of cat and mouse. But
I
shall be the cat! And if Superman has indeed returned to life, all the better. I can think of no finer way to cause the demise of his beloved adopted world than with an engine fueled with the radioactive ore created by the destruction of his homeworld!”

In the city’s main Engine Room, within a heavily shielded fission reactor, huge fuel rods pulsed with the eerie green glow of Kryptonite.

28

As Superman and Steel ran
through the bowels of the city, the floor, walls, and the entire complex began to shudder as the gigantic drive engine powered up. The two men exchanged worried looks and picked up their pace.

Before they had gone more than another hundred yards, a shadow fell before them, and Mongul stepped into the corridor. “Welcome to Engine City, Superman—if Superman is who you truly are.”

“Mongul!” Superman spoke the name as if it were a curse.

“You recognize me? Then you
are
that blasted Kryptonian. Good—it will give me great pleasure to kill you before I destroy your adopted world.”

Steel raised his hammer. “You won’t be doing either.”

“You are wrong. Fatally wrong. The vibrations you feel are from the great drive engine. Were there more than one such engine, we could steer this world safely through space.” Mongul’s lip curled into a sneer. “But your Superboy thwarted our attempts to site a second complex . . . and so doomed this Earth. Once my engine builds to full power, it will tear this puny little world to bits. Nothing can stop the process now; I’ve seen to that!”

Superman took a step back and pulled Steel to his side. “We have to stop that engine.” His voice was a crisp whisper. “About fifty feet back there’s a portal leading to a tunnel that parallels this one. You fall back and take it to the engine chamber. I’ll keep Mongul busy.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t leave you to face that giant. Besides, how am I supposed to stop the thing? He said it couldn’t be done.”

“Their missile couldn’t be stopped, either, but Superboy did it. You’re the engineer—you’ll have a better chance than I would. Don’t worry about me, I have a secret weapon, remember?” Superman looked him in the eyes. “You can beat the machine, John Henry. You have to!”

Steel gripped Superman’s hand. “Good luck, man.” Then he fell back and disappeared down the corridor.

“Does your ally abandon you, Superman? Or do you think to outflank me? Go ahead and try. It will make this all the more entertaining!”

“Entertain
this,
Mongul!” Superman opened fire with both weapons blazing.

Mongul roared with laughter and advanced through Superman’s ray-fire like a man fighting the stream of a high-pressure hose. “Did you think I would allow my troops to carry sidearms that could do me any real harm? I am strong, Superman, stronger than you! And your ammunition charge is finite!”

Step by step, the big warlord closed in on his prey.

Ensconced in the computer array, the Cyborg sat enraptured by his awareness of the flow of air and the fluctuation of heat within the city. He had become one with the city.

Now, as the Cyborg’s consciousness gradually sharpened, he sensed greater, larger movements. He felt the heat of battle between Superman and Mongul and vaguely wondered how the warlord had beaten him to their enemy. The Cyborg’s mind searched about, slowly becoming aware of the tap that Mongul had made into his heat-tracking network. He then sensed a swirling rush of air that his calculations told him must conform to a humanoid body in flight. This otherwise invisible body was turning about in midair, a scant distance from the battle. Further along, the Cyborg detected Steel rocketing down a secondary corridor toward the engine.

The engine!

The sudden recognition that the engine was powering up brought the Cyborg fully out of his reverie.
Mongul! What has that fool done?
It took but seconds to access the circuitry of the city’s master control and uncover the warlord’s treachery.
How dare he seek to usurp my revenge? I will flay him alive for that! But first, I must stop the engine. I cannot let all that I have worked for be destroyed.