The Daily Planet

Perry White scanned over the news clippings in the portfolio in his hand. A half-smoked cigar sat in the ashtray on his desk and seated in front of him was a young man with neatly-set black hair and dull blue eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses. Despite his height, he seemed a bit slim, as he was practically swimming in his blue suit.

“So…Kent, is it?” asked Perry. The young man nodded. “Impressive work you’ve done. Internet reporting in Iraq, Afghanistan, parts of Africa…amazing a kid like you is still alive.”

Clark nodded again with a shy smile. Perry just stared at him with curiosity. “I don’t get it. You spent the past few years fallin’ asleep to gunfire and grenades, yet you’re shyer than a Catholic schoolgirl at a male strip joint.”

“I’m just not very good in social situations,” said Clark. “But in the field, I focus on the story and nothing else.”

“You’ve definitely got the references for that,” said Perry. “Not a bad style, either. Right to the point, I like that. You don’t waste time with flowery language, you just get the facts. And your spelling’s correct.”

“…thank you?” said Clark, somewhat surprised by that last compliment.

Perry stood from his desk and walked to the door leading out to the newsroom. “Once you meet our city beat reporter, you’ll know what I mean. LANE! OLSEN! GET IN HERE!”

A slender woman with long, dark hair in a black suit rushed in. A slightly younger redhead with a camera hanging around his neck followed her. He wore a button-down shirt with the tails hanging over his faded jeans. Perry did a double-take on him.

“Olsen, what’d I tell you about looking professional?”

“What, this is professional,” said Jimmy, staring at his pants. “You see any holes in these jeans?”

Perry waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m glad you called, Chief. I’ve got the first draft finished.” Lois handed Perry a print-out. Perry glanced over it and handed it back to her.

“There’s no O in ‘super’. I want you to meet a new reporter I’ve just hired. This is Clark Kent.”

“I got the job?” asked Clark.

“You got a hearing problem, son?” asked Perry. “That’s what I just said.”

“Chief, why are we wasting time with this?” asked Lois. “I wanna talk about the Superman story.”

“Superman…?” asked Clark.

“Yeah, y’know that guy in the cape? Saved the plane this morning?” asked Jimmy.

“You named him Superman?” asked Clark.

Jimmy shrugged. “That’s what Lois has been calling him. Said something about Nietzsche. Makes sense, doesn’t it? He’s got a big S on his chest anyway.”

Jimmy searched through his camera’s memory and found a shot, showing it to Clark. “See? That’s an S, isn’t it?”

Clark stared at the symbol emblazoned on the front of the blue costume. He nodded slightly with a slight smile. “I guess it does kind of look like an S, doesn’t it?”

“Lane, we got nothin’ else to go on here!” said Perry. “You already wrote a story on this Superman saving the plane, there’s nothin’ more we can do until he shows up again.”

“Someone’s gotta know something about him,” said Lois.

“Right now, your job is to show Kent here the ropes,” said Perry. “Those protestors are out in front of LexTower again, why don’t you take him down there?”

Lois gave Clark a once-over, the first time she even acknowledged his presence. “You’re kidding, right? I’m a reporter, not a babysitter! I don’t have time to hold the hand of Joe Nobody from Whocaresville.”

“Actually, it’s Smallville,” said Clark.

Lois paused and stared at Clark. “Excuse me?”

“My hometown, it’s called Smallville. It’s in Kansas,” said Clark.

Lois just stared at him for a few more moments in surprise. “Whatever, Smallville.” She spun on her heel and strutted out the door while offering a final barb: “Point is, I’m not wasting my time holding some hayseed’s hand.”

Clark watched her leave and he felt a hand on his back. He glanced to his right and saw Jimmy standing there with a grin. “Don’t take it personal, CK. Lois may be wound a bit tight sometimes, but she’s one of the good guys.”

“SMALLVILLE!”

The sound of Lois’ voice carried all the way across the newsroom. Clark and Jimmy stepped out of Perry’s office and saw Lois standing near the elevators, screaming at them both.

“If you can’t keep up, you’ll never make it as a reporter! Now get your butt out here!”

Clark glanced at Jimmy, who shrugged. “Just sometimes tightly-wound. I swear.”

TAKING FLIGHT

Part II

By Dino Pollard

LexTower

“Computer, play File SM-002.”

Lex Luthor stood before a large holographic screen projected in the center of his spacious office. His hands were clasped behind his desk. Standing by his side was a man with silver hair, a full beard and thin, round glasses perched on his nose. The hologram displayed the footage captured of the mysterious Superman as he saved the plane.

Luthor glanced towards his guest. “I’m sure you’ve heard of this, Professor Hamilton?”

Emil Hamilton of STAR Labs nodded. “I saw it on the news. I’ve watched it several times since then. And I still can’t believe it.”

“I take it you also saw this? Computer, adjacently play File SM-001.”

The monitor split into two screens, with one showing a freeze-frame of Superman hovering over the crowd after he saved the plane. The new screen showed the footage of a man dressed in jeans, a blue shirt and a red jacket stopping the monorail from crashing. “Freeze-frame.”

The computer acknowledged the command. Luthor spoke once more. “This was taken at Metropolis Central Station shortly before the incident with Flight AC 38. The Daily Planet has called this story, ‘The Coming of the Superman.’”

“I apologize for asking, Mr. Luthor, but why did you call me down here?” asked Hamilton. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know. I’ve been following this story very closely, all of us down at STAR ha—”

“How is it possible?”

Hamilton blinked. “Excuse me, sir?”

Luthor turned to him. “I don’t believe I stuttered, Professor. I’ll ask again: how is it possible? Flying at speeds like that, possessing the strength necessary to keep a plane in the air, being able to stop a train with nothing but his bare hands? How is it possible?”

“Well, there are stories of people who have gotten a burst of adrenaline temporarily gaining the strength to lift a car in order to save a loved one…”

Luthor sighed. “I believe we both know that is not what’s happening here.”

Hamilton stepped towards the monitor and looked back and forth between the two screens. “You’re right. And, the short answer of it is, it’s not possible. What happened here, it’s absolutely unprecedented. Nothing even remotely like this has ever been recorded in the entire course of human history. Unless, of course, you believe in mythology.”

Luthor’s brow arched. “Mythology?”

“Well, yes,” said Hamilton. “There are numerous myths and fables about men and women with the power to perform unbelievable feats of strength. But those are nothing more than stories.”

Luthor narrowed his eyes. “Truly?”

Hamilton appeared somewhat shocked by what the man was hinting at. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Luthor. But you’re a scientific genius in your own right. Surely, you don’t believe that those ancient myths are anything other than fiction…right? At best, they are extreme embellishments of what really happened.”

“I believe we have proof that there is much about the world you do not understand, Professor,” said Luthor.

“There’s only one way to be sure about what this Superman is and how he can perform these feats,” said Hamilton. “I’d have to study him. At the very least, I’d need a DNA sample.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Luthor.

“What do you mean ‘what you can do’?”

Luthor grinned and walked towards the large bay windows overlooking the streets below. Gathered in front of LexTower were protestors numbering in the hundreds, carrying signs damning Luthor’s business practices and corruption in Metropolis politics. “Thank you for stopping by, Professor. I’ll be in touch.”

“When our largest investor asks for a meeting, I can hardly refuse,” said Hamilton. “But how do you plan on getting that DNA sample?”

“Professor, I do not question your methods. Do not question mine.”

The doors to the large office opened and a stunning young woman wearing a black suit entered. Mercy Graves, Luthor’s personal assistant and bodyguard. “Mr. Luthor, I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Not at all. If you’ll excuse me, Professor, my assistant and I have some business matters to go over,” said Luthor. “I believe you can show yourself out?”

“Of course,” said Hamilton. “I look forward to hearing from you again, Mr. Luthor.”

The scientist excused himself and exited. Mercy closed the doors behind him and then walked to the windows. Luthor still stared down at the masses below. “Look at them, Mercy. Animals. Ungrateful beasts who have no respect for everything my hard work has given them.”

“Security forces are standing by, sir,” said Mercy.

“Good,” said Luthor. “Disperse the crowd. We can’t have them interrupting business like this.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Can you believe this?” said Lois as her, Jimmy and Clark stood amongst the protestors in front of LexTower. “We’re sitting on the story of the century and Perry’s got us covering protests.”

“This is important, though, right?” asked Clark. “These people deserve to have their voices heard.”

“There’s no bigger critic of Luthor in this town than me, but this story’s been written. There’s nothing new here. The people keep protesting, Luthor keeps ignoring them, and that’s that. Until something else happens, what else is there to explore?” asked Lois.

“Couldn’t you say the same thing about Superman?” asked Jimmy between snapping photos.

“This seems important if you ask me,” said Clark. “Maybe we should go talk to some people?”

Lois waved him away in dismissal. “Knock yourself out, you’ll just get the same quotes we’ve run about a dozen times.”

“What about talking to Luthor himself?” asked Clark.

Lois and Jimmy exchanged glances and then began laughing. Clark just watched them in confusion. “What? Did I say something funny?” He looked down at his clothing. “Is there something on my tie?”

Lois kept laughing as she gestured to Clark with her thumb. “You believe this guy, Olsen? Been a reporter for ten minutes and already he thinks he’s gonna get a one-on-one interview with Lex Luthor!”

Jimmy had trouble breathing through his laughter. Every time he tried to speak, he just started to laugh harder. Clark still looked as if they were speaking to him in a foreign language. “I don’t get it. What’s so funny about that?”

Lois placed her hands on his cheeks. “Aren’t you adorable, Smallville! Lex Luthor is not only the most-powerful man in Metropolis, but he’s also highly secretive. He never gives interviews. He never gives press conferences. The few times he does appear in public, he’s whisked away by private security before anyone can ask a question. Everything’s done through his press people. You’ve got a better shot at interviewing the President.”

She gently slapped his cheeks. Clark cringed, pretending that it hurt. “Ahhh, y’know what? You stick around, okay? I think I’m starting to like you.”

Jimmy had finally caught his breath and resumed snapping photos. But it didn’t stop the occasional chuckle from escaping his lips, but he tried to suppress it.

Lois gave Clark a shooing motion with her hands. “Why don’t you go grab some quotes, okay Kent? It’ll give you some practice before your—” She snickered. “–big interview with Luthor.”

Clark shyly nodded and moved into the crowd. Lois just shook her head and glanced around. She hoped to find someone worth talking to. A representative of LexCorp or a local celebrity or politician—someone important who was willing to go on the record. Jimmy continued to take photos, but the smile faded as he noticed something through the lens. He lowered his camera and blinked. Then he looked through the lens again

“Hey Lois? Somethin’s going down.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look.”

Jimmy pointed and Lois followed his gesture. Private security officers were emerging from the lobby of LexTower, dressed in riot gear. They were armed with batons, tasers, and military-grade pepper spray. The protestors backed away from the entrance, but that didn’t stop the security forces from advancing on them.

“This does not look good,” said Jimmy.

“Really, you think?” quipped Lois. “Whatever you do, don’t stop taking photos.”

“Way ahead of you, boss lady.”

The security engaged the protestors, opening an attack on them. They knocked them down with the batons, shot them with the tasers, and sprayed them with the pepper spray. The protestors tried to either get away or help each other, but the security forces were merciless in their assault. More officers emerged from the building, attacking anyone who wasn’t wearing a uniform.

Protestors screamed as the chemical agent burned their skin and eyes, getting in their mouths as well. One of the officers shook the can and just as he was about to spray again, the metal can got very hot, burning his hand even through his glove. He dropped the can. He moved to pick it up, and a shadow fell over him. The guard looked up and the sounds of the conflict had grown to a barely-audible murmur.

He hovered above the crowd, dressed in a blue body suit with red and yellow trim at the waist as well as a stylized red and yellow shield emblazoned over his sculpted chest. The crimson cape flapped in the wind like a flag. And his eyes were like bright blue crystals. He lowered himself so his red boots rested on the ground. He stood between the security forces and the protestors and each group backed away to give him a wide berth. When he spoke, there was an authority in his baritone voice that forced all to stop and take notice.

“These people are under my protection,” said Superman.

One of the security officers decided to put this to the test. He raised his taser and fired it. The wires harmlessly struck his chest. Other security officers decided to resort to their pistols instead. They drew their weapons and opened fire. Superman just hovered there, arms folded across his chest as the bullets flattened, one by one, against his impenetrable body. They did not even leave a scratch on his suit—it remained as immaculate as ever. The guards continued firing until their guns clicked harmlessly.

“Are you through?” asked Superman.

The security forces slowly lowered their guns, staring in awe at this Man of Steel. Superman took a deep breath and blew. What came from his lungs was a powerful gust of wind that blew the security forces back, slamming them against the front doors of LexTower.

“Like I said, these people are under my protection and I’ll allow no one to infringe on their right to protest. An attack on them will be considered an attack on me and trust me—you do not want Superman as an enemy.”

He slowly rose into the air and glanced down at the opening the crowd made for him. His crystal eyes became bright red and the concrete began to smoke. When he was done, he flew off into the sky. And the spot he had stared at? In its place, his symbol had been burned into the ground in front of LexTower.

Lex Luthor had watched this all transpire from his office, viewing it through the security camera feed. Mercy stood behind him, her mouth hanging open in shock. Luthor remained calm, however. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew a smartphone, quickly dialing a number.

“Mr. Mannheim, this is Lex Luthor. I believe I have a job for you and your friends.”

To be continued…