Holy cow, she thought. I’m in space… for real.
The big question, of course, was whether she would ever set foot on Earth again, now that she had literally been abducted by aliens. Or did it still count as an abduction if you volunteered—even under duress?
Superman took her hand again. Although she knew he was capable of crushing her bones to powder, his grip was both firm and gentle. To her surprise, he slipped something into her palm before withdrawing his hand.
What’s this?
Faora was busy piloting the ship, so Lois risked a peek at the object Superman had surreptitiously passed to her. It was short black spike marked with the S-sigil he wore on his chest.
Hope, she remembered. It stands for hope.
She shot him a quizzical look. He responded with a barely perceptible shake his head. She got the message.
Not now.
Wait.
But for what?
The ship rolled again, bringing their destination into view. The gigantic alien vessel, whose televised image had captivated the entire world, hovered before them. The squid-like mothership was easily as tall as the Daily Planet building, and several times larger than the huge spacecraft she’d found buried under that glacier on Ellesmere. Three mechanical tentacles hung beneath its immense obsidian mantle. Lois flinched slightly, recalling the tentacled robot that had nearly killed her.
What is it with the Kryptonians and scary pseudopods?
“Behold the Black Zero,” Faora said proudly.
The name meant nothing to Lois. Maybe it lost something in the translation.
An airlock slid open in the hull of the larger vessel. Faora piloted the dropship inside and touched down. The door slid shut again.
A reception committee composed of yet more alien soldiers saluted Faora as she exited with the visitors from Earth. Lois was surprised—and a little disappointed— to discover that some manner of artificial gravity was in place aboard the Black Zero. Her feet remained squarely on the floor.
Faora removed her helmet. She took a deep breath of the ship’s pressurized air.
“The atmospheric composition on our ship isn’t compatible with humans,” she divulged. “You will need to wear a breather beyond this point.”
She wasn’t kidding. Lois was already finding it hard to breathe. She gasped, and her lungs burned.
A female Kryptonian, whom Faora addressed as Car-Vex, fitted Lois with a respirator helmet. It was a trifle claustrophobic, but at least she could breathe more easily.
“Are you all right?” Superman asked.
“I’m okay.” She didn’t want to let on how scared she was.
An inner doorway slid open at the other end of the airlock. Wasting no time, Faora and her underlings marched them into the heart of the ship, which proved to be a very bleak and gloomy environment. Unlike the futuristic white corridors she had envisioned, the Kryptonian vessel was a warren of cramped, claustrophobic tunnels and catacombs, dimly lit, cold, and drafty. The spooky alien milieu gave her goosebumps, and not just because of the uncomfortably low temperature.
Alcatraz was cozy by comparison.
A sickly green bioluminescence provided barely enough light for her to see anything. Shivering, Lois kept her hand closed tightly on the object Superman had passed her.
She knew it had to be important. She just didn’t know why.
The doorway opened onto a cavernous, multistory chamber lined with elevated catwalks. Rows of empty cryostasis compartments lined one wall of the chamber, giving it the feel of a futuristic alien cell block. A handful of Kryptonian soldiers waited for them on a platform overlooking the ground floor of the chamber. It was clear at a glance who was the man in charge.
He stood at the forefront of the assemblage, gazing down at the visitors like a dictator addressing his subjects from a palace balcony. His stern, saturnine features lacked the warmth and gentle nobility of Jor-El, although his shrewd eyes appeared equally intelligent. He was tall and fit, but his deeply lined face looked as if it had been through the wars. Cropped brown hair was graying at the temples. His black and silver uniform, made of the same durable Kryptonian fabric as Superman’s own suit, was adorned with stripes and medals befitting his rank. A long black cloak hung from his shoulders.
“Kal-El,” he said. “You have no idea how long we’ve been searching for you.”
I’ll bet, Superman thought. “I take it you’re Zod?”
“General Zod,” Faora snarled. “Our commander. Show some respect, dog.”
“It’s all right, Faora,” Zod said calmly. He descended a flight of stairs to join them on the lower level. “We can forgive Kal any lapses in decorum. He’s a stranger to our ways.”
Superman remained suspicious. Zod’s graciousness seemed at odds with the way he had bullied Earth in order to get his way. So he kept a close eye on Zod, even as he began to feel oddly dizzy, and then disoriented. His eyes watered. His head felt foggy all of a sudden. He blinked in confusion.
“Please,” Zod insisted, “this moment should be cause for celebration, not conflict.”
Superman tottered unsteadily. His head was swimming. His eyes burned. Nausea twisted his stomach. He gasped for breath.
“—feel strange… weak…”
The chamber seemed to spin around him. He stumbled forward, then dropped to his knees before Zod. A groan escaped his lips.
Lois rushed to his side.
“What’s happening to him?” she asked anxiously, looking up at their captors.
“His body is rejecting our ship’s atmospherics.” Zod gazed down at Superman, who felt sicker than he had ever felt before. “You spent a lifetime adapting to Earth’s ecology, Kal. But you never adapted to ours.”
Superman struggled to overcome this unexpected weakness. His head throbbed painfully. His limbs felt like rubber. His vision blurred. Sudden chills alternated with feverish hot flashes, while pressure built within his ears. He heard Lois calling out from what sounded like miles away.
“Help him!” she demanded.
“I can’t,” Zod replied. “Whatever’s happening to him has to run its course.”
Superman coughed hoarsely, spraying blood onto the deck of the ship. His face was cold and clammy. A cold sweat drenched him beneath his skinsuit. He could barely keep his head up. He fought to stay conscious, for Lois’s sake, even as darkness encroached on his vision.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Clark opened his eyes. To his surprise, he was no longer aboard the Black Zero. Instead he glimpsed a clear blue sky beyond the front porch of his childhood home back in Smallville. He sat up and looked around. Everything was just as he remembered it—the barn, the silo, the cornfields. His old swing still hung from a tree branch in the front yard.
The farmhouse was good as new, not at all as rundown as the last time he’d seen it. The warm spring air smelled of freshly cut grass and fertilizer. Laundry hung on a clothesline.
“Hello, Kal.”
He turned around to see Zod standing behind him.
“Or do you prefer Clark?” he continued. “That’s the name they gave you, isn’t it?”