A poignant memory came back to her, of watching Jonathan watch Clark as their young son played in the grass with his dog. A red sheet, borrowed from the laundry drying on a nearby clothesline, billowed from Clark’s small shoulders like a cape. Observing Jonathan’s pensive expression as he contemplated the boy, she knew that—like her—he had to be thinking of the long journey ahead for their son, of the perils he would surely face, and the hope he might bring to the world…
“I just wish he could’ve been here to see it finally happen,” Clark said.
“You weren’t ready before now,” she told him. “The world wasn’t. But he had faith you’d know when it was.”
He nodded, remembering the grateful people who had accepted him in Metropolis, right before his final battle with Zod, as well as the trust he had received from Lois and Colonel Hardy, and many others.
Even the talk-show hosts were no longer calling for him to reveal his true identity. Well, not most of them.
“I’m sorry you had to make a choice like that, between us and your own people.” She squeezed his hand. “It must have been hard.”
“I don’t remember that other world,” he assured her. “It’s just as alien to me as it would be to you.”
He lifted his eyes and gazed out over the town and farmlands below. Smallville had already started rebuilding. There was a lot of work of work to do, and fresh crops to be planted in the spring, but he had faith in the town and its people. Pete Ross and the others weren’t going to let a little thing like an alien invasion keep them down for long. Smallville was stronger than that.
And so was Clark.
“Growing up here, with you and dad, that’s home. Not Krypton.” He looked up at the sky he had fallen from so long ago, and wondered if somewhere, countless light-years away, a swollen red sun still burned. “Jor-El died so I’d have a choice. But Dad taught me how to actually make one.”
His mom unfolded her newspaper, revealing a frontpage photo of a caped hero with a bright red “S” on his chest. A headline boldly christened Metropolis’s mysterious savior.
“‘Superman,’” Martha read aloud, bemused. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?”
Clark nodded, but he had no regrets.
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve had to hide what I can do. Now I don’t have to.”
It was a good feeling.
“Well, you can’t be Superman all the time,” his mom pointed out. “What are you going to do when you’re not saving the world? Have you given any thought to that?”
“Actually, I have,” he admitted. “I need a job where I can keep my ear to the ground. Where people won’t look twice if I want to head somewhere dangerous and start asking questions.”
His mom raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Lois pounded away at her keyboard, rushing to file a story. In the wake of Zod’s aborted invasion, there seemed to be about a million follow-up stories that needed telling. Right now she was struggling to figure out a way to explain the Phantom Zone in layman’s terms, which was no easy task, especially since she barely understood the freaky alien science herself.
“C’mon, Lois.” Lombard interrupted her. He perched on the corner of her desk, nursing a cup of coffee. “When are you going to throw me a bone? I’ve got courtside seats to the Jacks tonight. What do you say?”
She kept on typing, not even bothering to look up.
“I say you should go back to trolling the intern pool, Lombard,” she said. “You’ll probably have better luck.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give Jenny a speculative look. The pretty intern rolled her eyes and made a hasty escape.
Lois chuckled.
To be fair, she’d heard that Lombard had actually conducted himself fairly well while Metropolis was under attack, but that didn’t mean she had any interest in dating him. She could do better.
A lot better.
“Lane, Lombard,” Perry called out. Lois noted absently that he had somebody with him. Focused on her story, she vaguely registered the presence of a tall, dark-haired guy wheeling a bike into the office. “I want to introduce you to our new stringer. I was hoping you could show him the ropes.”
Lois sighed. Like I don’t have enough on my plate right now.
Still, just to be polite, she looked up at the newcomer.
Her eyes bulged. It was all she could to keep her jaw from hitting the floor.
Clark stood before her, wearing a sports jacket, jeans, and glasses. He leaned his bike awkwardly against a cubicle, as though he wasn’t quite sure where to park it. Slouching to de-emphasize his impressive height and build, he didn’t look much like the hunky baggage handler she had first met up north—or the Man of Steel.
“This is Clark Kent,” Perry said.
Slightly flustered, Lois did her best to act as though they had never met before. She rose awkwardly from her seat and offered her hand.
“I’m Lois,” she said. “Welcome to the Planet.”
He smiled back, sharing a private joke between them. He took her hand.
“Glad to be here, Lois.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Greg Cox is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels and short stories. He has written the official novelizations of such films as The Dark Knight Rises, Daredevil, Ghost Rider, and the first three Underworld movies, as well as novelizations of four popular DC Comics miniseries: Infinite Crisis, 52, Countdown, and Final Crisis.
In addition, he has written books and stories based on such popular series as Alias, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Farscape, The 4400, The Green Hornet, Leverage, Riese: Kingdom Falling, Roswell, Star Trek, Terminator, Warehouse 13, Xena: Warrior Princess, and Zorro. He has received two Scribe Awards from the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers. He lives in Oxford, Pennsylvania.
His official website is: www.gregcox-author.com.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I honestly can’t remember a time when I wasn’t a Superman fan. I grew up on the comic books, as well as the earlier movies, TV shows, and cartoons, so it was a thrill to be able to adapt his latest big-screen adventure.
I want to thank my editor, Steve Saffel, for giving me this opportunity, and my agent, Russ Galen, for helping to make this possible. I also want to thank Nick Landau, Vivian Cheung, Cath Trechman, Natalie Laverick, Katy Wild, and the rest of the good folks at Titan Books for their valiant efforts behind the scenes.
Thanks to Josh Anderson, Wes Coller, Adam Forman, Shane Thompson, Melissa Jolley, and all the other helpful folks at Warner Bros. for allowing me access to the script and artwork and for graciously hosting me during my visit to the Warner lot and offices. Their hospitality was greatly appreciated.
In addition, I have to thank Zack Snyder, Christopher Nolan, and David S. Goyer for giving me such fantastic stuff to work with. I can’t wait to see the finished movie!
Thanks also to Deborah Snyder, Charles Roven, and Emma Thomas.
Finally, and as always, I could not have written this book without the support of my girlfriend, Karen Palinko, and our various four-legged assistants: Henry, Sophie, and Lyla.