National Aeronautics & Space Administration
Pike Island Research Facility, Metropolis
The pristine white walls still smelled faintly of paint. A spattering of construction workers filtering around the people in lab coats as the final touches were put on the governments newest addition to its hallmark agency in the areas of math and science. A large, flat-screen television took up one section of a wall in the lounge, prominently displaying a satellite news feed of a much more famous NASA facility in a different part of the United States.
We go now live to Kennedy, where the Space Shuttle Excalibur has been moved out onto the launch pad and we see preparations underway for the first nighttime launch of the space shuttle since Explorer lifted off in February...
Shaking his head as he emerged from out of the hallway, a disheveled looking man who appeared to be about early middle-age, and sporting a unkempt mustache, strode over to the break room couch and threw himself down on it. I just got the strangest phone call from some guy claiming to be air traffic control at the airport, the man blurted aloud.
Pursing his lips, a scientist seated across the room didnt even bother to look up from the laptop that was balanced on his knees as he very nonchalantly answered, Let me guess, a small kid flying around aircraft?
Howd you know?
You need to check Twitter more often, the second man replied simply, sliding the laptop screen around so that its display could be seen by the other man. On the screen was a Facebook page predominantly featuring what appeared to be a young boy as seen through an airplane window. A 12 year old girl took this picture with a cellphone camera after looking out the window on a flight coming in from Seattle.
The mustached man scrubbed his face with his hands, pulling his fingers through the stache for a moment before finally tossing back, Its got to be an internet hoax.
The second man just quietly slid the laptop screen back toward himself, resuming his typing as he muttered, Yeah, well there are about seventeen other hoaxes all with pictures of the same kid. And not just from airplanes either. He apparently was buzzing over 5th and Broad about twenty minutes ago.
You dont expect me to believe this is serious, do you?
The sound of typing stopped. From over the top of his glasses, the second scientist gave the first man a long, silent look. Dabs, theres a guy in black leather swinging from rooftops in Gotham, a guy in bright red spandex running about Mach 15 through Keystone City, and lets not even talk about the Metropolis local in blue tights. Would a kid and a flying dog really be that odd?
Theres a dog?
They didnt mention the dog?
You could have mentioned it.
I just assumed theyd mention it.
No, they left that detail out, the first man stated, pulling his fingers through his mustache again. Beagle?
Looks more like a yellow lab or retriever.
Reclining back on the sofa, the first man stared at the ceiling for a moment. Can you imagine studying that? I mean, theres got to be some kind of physical reaction taking place and were talking major energy output on some level to sustain a reverse pull against gravity. And thats just levitation, you get into flight and... He trailed off, his head coming up of the back of the couch as he suddenly turned to look at the second man with a sense of urgency. Hes over the airport right now?
As of... fifty seconds ago, yeah. Why? the scientist on the laptop asked, then he paused a second time as he looked up and found himself staring into a look that he knew. All too well. What are you thinking were going to do, Donovan? Wave a brightly colored toy in the air in the hopes of getting his attention?
Brightly colored... Dabney Donovan echoed, obviously speaking more to himself than to the other scientist. When he finally blinked and actually
looked at the other scientist, all he asked was, Werent the boys in R&D playing with smoke flares?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Minutes later, a column of bright orange smoke rose from off the rooftop of the observatory. A pair of smoke flares burning themselves out in a torrent of chemicals as either man scanned the horizon for any indication that they were being successful in hooking the catch of the day. Sadly, neither man actually knew how to fish.
This is never going to work.
Why didnt you say that in the first place? Dabney retorted.
I
did, the man replied blandly.
Running a hand through his hair, Donovan turned to begin walking for the stairwell. Well, it... A shadow cast on the rooftop stopped the man in mid-sentence, drawing his eyes back to the other scientist. Or rather, to the air over his head. Uh, Albert? You have a...
dog... over you, Dabney commented, in as composed a voice as he could muster, given the reality of what appeared to be golden retriever hovering in mid-air, muzzle pointed downward and its nose furiously sniffing just an inch above the mans head. A quiet whistle a second later snapped the animal into motion, as the canine fluidly zipped off to the right. Tracking the animals incredible grace and speed with their eyes, the men saw the dog fly behind the descending figure of the same small boy that theyd seen in the photographs. The same shimmery tunic. Squeezing between the childs body and arm, the canine let its tongue roll out of its muzzle and panted for a moment, before looking at the pair of men on the roof and giving a bark.
The child was silent, as though calculating something. Or maybe waiting. But the look in his eyes, faun brown like a baby deer, told Donovan all he really needed to know. There was an intelligence there. A mind working, observing maybe, but definitely a mind... Oh, uh, hello there, Dabney offered.
The salutation was returned with something... incomprehensible. They had
heard it, but they had not comprehended it. Did you get that? I didnt get that. What language was that? Donovan blathered anxiously. His attention was being directed to the childs bare feet. Just hanging there. The child was completely relaxed, as though levitating hundreds of feet off the air were natural for him. The physics involved... dear god, could it be genetic? Something operating organically at the cellular level... The scientific implications made Donovans head spin.
I think it was not-from-around-here, Albert deadpanned.
The inference wasnt lost on the geneticist. Thats nonsense. Look at him. Hes from... I dont know, somewhere with a Caucasian base. I mean, hell, he looks like he could be a farmboy from Kansas for crying out loud, Donovan retorted candidly. Already he was planning out a speech for when they identified the boys parents. Access to birth records, medical files, blood work... We get some prints, run him through DMA and Child Services, Im sure someones put out an Amber Alert for a missing kid with brown hair, brown eyes... and... a... penchant for obliterating the laws of physics as theyve been laid out for the last one hundred years.
Yeah, you see
those on milk cartons all the time.
As the two men debated, the child slipped down onto the rooftop, bare feet padding over the sun-warmed concrete. Before either of the adults could realize what was happening, the child had bent down to pick up one of the smoke flares.
Terror gripped Donovan in that same instant.
NO! Thats... Even as he reached out a hand to stop the child, his mind registered that he was too late. And the boy was holding the flare.
Holding it. As though it were some simple baton. Thats got to be burning at over 500 degrees, Dabney commented aloud.
Clearing his throat, Albert stepped past his dumbfounded co-worker and knelt down in front of the child. Hello there. My name is Doctor Michaels, this is Doctor Donovan, the scientist began in a neutral, meticulous tone of voice. Motioning to the still levitating canine, the man looked at the boy and asked, Does your dog have a name?
The brown eyes held Alberts in a moment of uncomfortable silence, then switched to Donovan before they finally settled on the canine.
Krypto. It was a single word in a soft voice whose accent was lost on either of the men and, with that said, the boy calmly returned his soul-piercing gaze back to the man kneeling in front of him.
You speak English, Albert noted simply.
The observation seemed to generate some confusion, an emotion the child wore quite plainly.
What is English? the boy inquired curiously.
Is that what you speak on Metropolis?
In Metropolis, Albert corrected. And, yes. Are you from Metropolis?
The same neutral expression. A debate going on behind the tawny irises which very meticulously moved from one man to the next as though the boy were calculating how to respond. Physical interaction was new to him, but not social interaction. There were
others in the Phantom Zone. And Lor was the son of Zod. If there was one thing his parents had taught him, it was that information was a source of power. And his name was a powerful thing indeed. But the answer to this question seemed innoculous to the boys imagining. So he opted to answer it honestly.
No, I just got here, the child informed the two simply.
Oh? Albert murmured, giving the boy a disarming smile as he politely asked, Where did you come from then?
Space, the child provided. Obviously a question and answer hed prepared for. His expression took on a sheepish look as he added,
From nine galaxies over... I think.
The comment sent a nerve on edge with Donovan. Nine galaxies? Nine galaxies. Hes kidding. Hes kidding, right? Babbling on with imagination or something...
Clearing his throat a second time, Albert simply looked at Dabney for a moment to silence him and then turned his attention back to the boy. You know, I dont think youve told us your name.
The silence resumed as that well-worn, guarded expression revealed itself once again. Eyes moving with precision timing as they took in either man in turn. Always focusing on one or the other. His parents had never told him about a planet called Metropolis, so if mother and father did not know of this place then Lor would assume that Metropolis knew nothing of Zod. But
he knew that there was a Kryptonian here. One named
Superman.
And Superman was
not a Kryptonian name.
Which meant that Lor had no way of knowing what family was represented on this planet Metropolis. And many of the Kryptonians outside the Phantom Zone had been his fathers enemy. For all Lor knew, this
Superman could out to be the devil Jor-El himself.
No, this place was not of Krypton. It did not kneel before Zod. And that made Lors name too powerful to surrender. Perhaps that was why this other Kryptonian on Metropolis would adopt a nonsensical name such as
Superman. It made that a model to follow. Lowering his head, the child crossed his arms across his chest and very plainly announced...
Im Superboy.
