章 14: 2.1 Masks.

10:28 AM, 25th of March 1989

Things are very confusing, however the French Government has publicly approved of my actions and indemnified me from all repercussions of my actions in this extreme situation, claiming me as an asset since I was there working with the military from the beginning. The monster has terrified the populace and some vocal groups claim I could have done more or lured it away.

Chemo the newspapers call it. But then, I've been upgraded from Joyride to 'Bubbleboy'… the Seinfield reference too many years early for the show. Anyhow my identity is shot, the American Ambassador has my application for immigration and France is stubbornly trying to lure me back and keep me as a national symbol and the superhuman equivalent of nuclear deterrence.

So I've met both the American Ambassador and the French Minister of Defence in separate meetings, including a conference call with the French President. Not a name I remembered from history, but then this world's politics have been different from my last one since WW2.

They have offered me a stipend to be a full time hero. Including a secure residence and medical benefits. Essentially they intended to attach me to the metropolitan police force as a special asset.

It was really tempting, too.

They were already putting laws in place to allow for metahumans and the like to receive a similar position if they are willing, in any form of public service. Deliberately tempting potential villains from badly thought out schemes was a plus in my book.

I was intended to be the face of this initiative. Really, I wanted this to succeed. But I had other plans.

So I was forced to commit to a press conference (*Shudder*).

To advocate for this system and publicly pull out at the same time because of personal reasons.

I've been holed up in a residence used for political guests, a penthouse apartment in the heart of Paris guarded by a team of bodyguards.

The press conference was held in an auditorium nearby, but actually getting there by conventional means was difficult to say the least. Protesters calling me a weapon of Mass Destruction. Fans cheering… some rabid teenage girls tried to reach me screaming their heads off. Ugh. To whoever is listening, the Source, that fourth dimensional imp, please don't make me this universe's version of Bieber. No too soon… um… the current artist named Prince, who in the future will be something else? I'm not really up to date with contemporary, flash in the pan, tween heart-throbs.

The auditorium was filled to capacity, including a wide variety of international reporters. Looking for the Daily Planet contingent I found a dark haired, serious looking, model pretty woman haranguing her escort, a tall, slightly submissive seeming man in thick glasses. Who I couldn't sense anything from. Huh. It's the cellular force-field projecting variety of Superman? His watch shows up, but iron in his blood? Nada. Nerves might be too different from human to tell. There is a faint aura? Glow? That'd be him absorbing solar radiation.

I make my statements, describe my actions and the sequence of events that lead to Chemo being revealed and eventually captured.

Then I open up for questions.

After a few queries for greater detail and (confidential details) about Fleur the question I dreaded came.

"Gordon Reynolds, The Vlatavan Star, is it true that you are actually the third in line for the throne of Vlatava? Victor Ignatius Vertigo, not Magnus as your identity claims?" Right to the point. "Your father sends his congratulations." Oh, you're a stooge.

"I have renounced my name and here and now I do the same to any titles or claims I may have to that nation. France has kindly sheltered me, as my father is an abusive asshole who imprisoned me in his private dungeon for more than half a year." I returned fire.

The reporters were ruffled by the juicy story fallen into their laps.

"Are you certain? I had heard you were declared to be bedridden with a contagious disease." The jackass in Dad's pocket replied.

"Oh yes, he would say that." I replied with maximum sarcasm. "So much nicer than saying I have my child chained to a wall in my private prison in my basement. Because I deliberately foiled his attempt to murder his infant niece for a crown." I snapped my fingers. "Now, no more from you Mr Reynolds. I have nothing to say to my Father's toadies."

"How did you escape?" Lois asked.

"My powers very slowly developed in the cell, allowing me to eventually pick the locks on my chains and cell and fly to freedom, on the tail of a passing French Bee passenger flight heading home." I shrugged. "And here we are. Any further questions, miss?"

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Is there any significance to the footage of you wearing a Superman symbol?" She replied immediately.

"It was a t-shirt I found for sale and a nod to someone I consider a peer and role model."

"So you are not related to Him in any way beyond professional courtesy?" She asked.

"I have respect for anyone who willingly goes out and uses their powers and talents for the betterment of our species, especially with such obvious restraint." I smiled. "Powers are nothing new, they have been around since World War 2. Magic, hyper-advanced science and predispositions to supernatural abilities have been bubbling under the surface ever since then and in some cases existed long before. The difference is that for the first time since that glorious movement of the Allies against the Axis' Ubermensch, people are rising up to use their abilities in the public eye. So it stands to reason that to support this change new laws are needed to not only encourage this behaviour but reward it. Because while many people can be selfless and help others because of duty, responsibility or determination to right wrongs others faced with desperation or short-sighted greed might choose to go in an opposite direction and end up as hardened criminals when they might not have ever needed to be."

Lois raised her hand again. "If people were to use their powers for criminal purposes how do you believe they should be handled?"

"First of all, sometimes powers have issues with control initially and people may make mistakes and cause damage out of enthusiasm, pure accident or foolishness. These should be treated gently. Criminals, particularly white-collar crime should also be persuaded towards a legal purpose. However there will inevitably arise the worst kind of scum who abuse leniency and legal loop holes to remain a thorn in the side of crime prevention and civilisation itself. I would ask for all governments to develop a system overseen by the UN that allows notorious super powered murderers be tried by an international court, one with the ability to enforce the death penalty. Since for many of us, the abuse of our abilities equates to a war crime. After all the next Chemo could easily be an insane maniac instead of a monster, with all the problems that includes. I would also urge that the laws be changed to allow for the inclusion of non-human intelligence as citizens in the case that a friendly or benign creature be found with the ability to reason: to allow them the possibility of applying for refugee or resident status. I know of one deserving example already, Red Tornado: a sentient android that fought to end the Nazi war machine."

Lois seemed taken aback. "That is quite a list of proposals, anything else?"

"The ability for heroic individuals to own the rights to their likeness and brand, to be able to apply for bank accounts and businesses under additional scrutiny of the government in question, if only to avoid tax evasion or tricksters forging false identities to discredit the hero. For charitable purposes or to receive donations if nothing else. Personally, I wish to start my own business. My powers have many constructive purposes I have yet to explore."

I smiled. I had them hooked. "My final suggestion, that if they can demonstrate competency at a high level these heroic individuals be affiliated loosely with the local police forces if they do not wish to openly join them and thus be able to legally aid them in the arrest of criminal superhumans. With appropriate wages provided for services rendered."

"Well, this should be quite an article..." Lois muttered.

Clark nodded next to her, in quiet thought.

I left the stewing reporters behind in the auditorium and returned to my apartment the easy way, flying there. I needed a shower and time to relax after that brush with Dad's sleazy minion.

My bodyguards got back a few minutes later and while I was complained at for it, frankly these people were there more to keep people away from me, than to save me in the event of danger. They were glorified bouncers at the press conference. Oh, they probably might have my life in their hands… but only as I sleep. But I'm not going to make a fuss about it. I'll just take the time to go for a nice flight later tonight. Hopefully see a certain caped fellow I've been itching to meet.

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章 15: Interlude: Clark Kent 2

"Did you hear the certainty dripping from every word the kid said? Bubbleboy, my ass. What was that code name of his in the operation? Metal Storm? Pretentious, but sounds closer to the truth. Maybe something with punch? Magnetix. Dynamo?" Lois sighed. "Some of these points are going to be bounced back and forth for years. And a fifteen year old kid… correction thirteen year old child came up with these things in the span of a day? I. Don't. Believe. it."

She paused to take a drag on a cigarette. "But, do y'know what the worst part is, Smallville? I can kinda see how things would be playing out without it. Superman endlessly catching crooks to have them walk out as if the prison gate was a revolving door. He's a nice guy, too nice to really bring the hurt without innocent lives in the balance. Catching murderers… to have them escape and continue as if their capture was just a formality, that's the stuff nightmares are made of. I mean, it's not his fault. Even Superman can only do so much, the system has to carry some of the burden in ensuring they receive appropriate punishments and the current mental health laws really can't control or contain people who can rip tanks in half or out-think professional psychologists."

"The part that really got to me, personally is that he seems to expect there to be a significant upswing in these… metaphysical humans and even more bizarre creatures. What next, aliens?" She asked, glancing at Clark, who choked.

"No, that's too ridiculous for words. You're right." She blathered as she continued reviewing her notes. She paused. "Tell you what, lets take a break and continue at five tomorrow morning. I should have a draft by then. The time difference compared to the printing schedule is in our favour here."

"Okay Lois." Clark nodded.

"In the meantime, I'm taking advantage of the tub." She took a second drag. "Shut the door on your way out."

"Sure."

Clark quietly exited, locking the door securely behind him before walking five feet to reach his own room.

Once inside he was a blur of movement that left the room from the window, in bright blue and red.

The moon was full in the sky, the city lit brightly. With a brief sweep of his hearing he found his French counterpart. Floating over a park. The heartbeat in mid-air above building height a sure sign.

He approached at a leisurely pace, not wanting to startle the kid.

Superman was mildly shocked to see the boy turn his way as he came close, his flight was virtually silent, below the sonic barrier after all. More surprising: he displayed no shock at seeing Superman in Paris. The heartbeat was undisturbed.

"Hello."

"Yo."

"You knew I was in the city?" He asked curiously.

"I'm sure you could have identified me with senses I don't have. Is it so strange that I could see you were an oddity, in the Metropolis contingent of reporters at that." The boy replied, calmly.

"Huh. You know, this is a first." Superman finally said, rubbing the back of his head. "No one else has ever seen through my disguise."

"I wouldn't worry too much. I'm a special case. I sense the nerves firing and iron flowing inside a person. Your body either blocks my view of both or you have something different. Like how octopi use copper instead." The kid smiled. "You also glow from the light you absorb, just a tad. So, what are you? Magically empowered? Sapient fungus? Alien? Or a combination of the three?"

"I… is that a joke?" Superman finally replied.

"Actually, yes. But honestly with just a touch of idle curiosity. I mean what you are is your own business. You prove Who you are every time you help people." The kid shrugged. "That is what really matters."

"Would you be concerned if I said I was?" Superman asked carefully.

"Were you sent to conquer us, as an infant? Do you turn into a giant ape looking at the moon?" The boy asked laughing.

"No..."

"I'm kidding. It's from an old folk story from back home… very obscure." The boy mimed wiping away false tears. "Seriously, you wouldn't be the first alien to come to Earth or even in the top ten. Let's not mention the alien tech both Russia and China are scavenging… some of it had hostile occupants that escaped. Aliens are far from new under the sun. There is literally an entire civilisation living on Mars if you care to look. Too bad they're apparently agoraphobics, despite possessing a moderate fleet of spacecraft. Don't believe me? Ask an astronomer."

"Uh… this is not how I pictured this conversation going." Superman finally admitted.

"Oh, I can be as serious as you like. Just like you are an alien, I am a reincarnated human. Living my teenage years twice? Wouldn't recommend it."

"Reincarnated? Really?!"

"From the future, in a way."

"How?"

"Because the universe is a wilder place than you know yet? The mechanism didn't reveal it's master plans to me, just shoved me inside some kid who should never have been."

"I'm sure there is a greater plan for you, just as there is for all of us." Superman finally said.

"Oh, you think I was being cynical. No I mean, I have spotty knowledge of various universes; none of them involve me, because I never existed there." The kid chuckled. "I'm glad I got a nicer version of you."

"Okay, I feel that has a whole hook hidden behind the statement."

"Eh, you're raised by humans… what happens if you weren't raised as you were? Or landed badly? You could have been a devoted Communist or British. Or captured by a paranoid general during the height of the cold war and kept starved in isolation to keep you feeble." The boy winced. "There are also mirror versions existing in other universes. Such as your inverse: Ultraman, a mobster ruling Metropolis like a tyrant."

"Would it be narcissistic to ask if I were the only difference there?" Superman asked, uneasy.

"Oh, the mirrorverse is nasty, everyone has an opposite there; every villain is a hero and vice versa." The kid shook his head, such knowledge must be disturbing.

"I take that to mean you know of some future events? You said you came from the future, how far?"

"2018. I was in my thirties when I died. I can't tell you the future is going to be all roses and sunshine, if anything it is going to be badguys crawling out of the woodwork like roaches. For every ten you put behind bars, another will find a way to escape. Or cause a mass break out." Just like Lois had thought…

"The worst ones are the mentally unstable maniacs who get sent to an asylum, because they will escape and nothing is going to stop the psychotics from resuming their murderparty. If something isn't done about it, an endless cycle grows out of this game of capes and maniacs, where people who initially only cause a small amount of damage eventually rack up a kill count that would make Ghengis Khan envious. I suspect. I mean that bastard is immortal, so you'll probably get the chance to ask if you wish. He currently uses the name Vandal Savage."

"Ha! You know, I came here hoping for a nice cosy chat. So far all I have is wild stories I know can't be faked, because you aren't lying. Which are so utterly disturbing that frankly I don't want to know any more." Superman said with finality. "But out of morbid curiosity, what do I have to watch out for as dangers to others?"

"I'd suggest you check your ego, you aren't invincible. Magic exists and hurts you just as much as the next guy-. You also have weaknesses: Kryptonite, glowing, radioactive materials that effect your kind, debris from your home planet. The most common, green weakens and slowly poisons you through proximity until you die. The others are rarer, but I already found a hunk of red in a local store: it has a variety of exotic effects that are temporary including allowing someone to steal your powers and flipping your personality." He pulled out a small object which, surprisingly was lead insulated. "It's safe with me, I won't use it on you… but others of your species, most of the survivors of Krypton are prisoners in a place called the Phantom Zone. Krypton's version of a super-max prison. I believe you currently have the only remaining gateway in your possession. They will attempt to escape. Multiple times."

"I see." That was just more credence to support Lois' suspicion that catching criminals will become a farce. "This is why you want an extra-governmental body formed: the ability to issue capital punishment to the worst offenders regardless of origin and local, state and governmental law. On behalf of the Earth itself as genuine threats."

"Most of them aren't that dangerous. One or two, however could change the world. No the big threats typically aren't human, they are invasions from unexpected places. I can't really do much more than describe a few and name maybe a half dozen others. Some may never come here or don't exist."

"I believe I am getting a headache. That isn't easy to accomplish. Bravo. Final question, how exactly do you know I'm from Krypton?" Superman asked, seriously.

"Uh… you told everyone? In an interview with Lois Lane later in your career… uh, I can't say for sure based on the universe, but you remain active for decades in most cases. You become iconic with heroics." The kid replied.

"Kid, I'm not sure who you think I am, I'm just trying to help people with my talents in the best way I can."

"You're Superman. I don't expect you to be anything you aren't, but what you are is great. You are one of the keystones that will save this world. Repeatedly."

"It's just what's right."

"And that is exactly why I am glad you're around." The kid added. "This world is a chaotic hellhole, sometimes literally. You're exactly who needs to be here to help it remain a place worth living in."

"You sure know how to give a man an inflated sense of self esteem."

"Unlike you, I'm not an altruist. I'm a cynic. I'm helping people because the side that wins, the side that matters is that of the heroes. The Good Guys. I want them to win, for my own safety. If I have to help them fight in the process, that is my sacrifice."

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