Superman and Man: Part 6
by DarkMark
Superman looked, and saw another man beside him.
The man had the face of the body he was currently occupying.
The man stared back at him, and after a few moments, said, "You're Superman."
Nodding, Superman said, "And I think I know who you are."
"This thing," said the actor. "Did it happen to you, too?"
"Yes," said Superman. "I was in your body."
The actor paused. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I learned a lot. It's very tough to be you, you know."
"Uh, yeah," admitted the actor. "But it isn't a cakewalk being you, either." He laughed. "My God. I'm talking to a comic book character. A guy I played in a movie."
Superman looked offended, a bit.
"Sorry," said the actor.
"Oh, don't worry," said Superman. "That's just the way it is on your world. I found out."
"I fought Lex Luthor," said the actor. "I can't believe it, but I really fought Lex Luthor."
"Luthor?" Superman's voice rose, and his stature seemed to increase. "He's back in town? What did he do? Did you capture him? Did he harm anyone?"
The actor held out both hands to Superman. "No, he didn't hurt anyone. Yes, I caught him. But I have to tell you this. You can't treat him the same way once you go back. I made friends with him."
Superman gaped.
"I think he's started on the right path, now. I think he might be ready to quit hating you."
"You've been conned."
"I don't think so," the actor said. "You've got to give him a chance. He's probably going to work on a cure for my condition. I--"
Superman got nearer. "You mean that you convinced Luthor to work on repairing broken spines and nerve columns?"
The actor smiled. "I think you'll find him a changed man. But he has to find you a changed one, too."
"Crazy," said Superman. "Utterly crazy. How did you accomplish this?"
"Sat down and talked to him. That was all."
"I've been talking to him for forty years," said Superman. "What did you say to him?"
"I told him I was sorry," said the actor. "So you have to be, too, when you see him."
Superman ran a hand through his hair. Even in the dim light, the actor could see that the highlights of it did look blue. "This is a dream. Therefore, I can't take seriously anything I'm hearing."
"It's a dream, all right. But you've got to take it seriously. Believe me."
Finally, Superman said, "I'll check it out for myself. Assuming we end up back in our own bodies."
"Bodies," repeated the actor. "How did you do in my body? I had a speech to make tonight. God help me, it's so great to be able to talk without pausing every few words. Even if this is a dream."
"I know," smiled Superman. "I made the speech."
"What did you talk about?"
"Oh...Superman." He grinned. "The one subject I'm a fair authority on. The audience seemed to enjoy it."
"Wow," the actor murmured. "I've mostly played that down. I mean, it was just one role."
"I saw the movie," said Superman. "You did a good job, Chris."
"I..." The proper words, the words one should use on such an occasion, seemed to have been lost on the Earth-Krypton run. Finally, the actor said, "You must have seen the first movie."
"That was it. The producers took a lot of liberties with the facts. But for a movie, it was pretty darned good."
"Thank you," the actor said. "Thank you very much." Then he said, "So. Did you figure out who was responsible for us ending up in, uh, each other's bodies?"
The Man of Steel gestured towards a fog-shrouded figure that the actor had not caught sight of. "I think we're both about to find out," he responded.
The man in the fog was, at long last, moving closer. Superman made sure that he was between it and the actor. Its shape became more distinct with each step. It seemed to be wearing a purple robe with a hood. The Man of Steel suspected that their host was his old foe, the Time-Trapper, for a moment, and prepared to do battle.
But as the being moved closer still, Superman saw his face, which was not like the Trapper's, and which he had seen once before. And he saw the great book which he held clasped to his chest, chained to his wrist by a metal shackle.
His muscles untensed a bit, and he spoke the newcomer's name.
"Destiny," he said.
The actor stepped closer. "You know this guy?"
"I've met him," confirmed Superman. "Okay, Des. Last time we met, you put me through a little teaching session. You held me back from solving some problems that you said people could solve themselves, that you said they needed to solve themselves. So. You're the one who played Body Snatcher with both of us?"
The being spoke. "I am," he said. The lips in his expressionless face moved. But the actor could have sworn he only heard the voice in his mind.
"What is he, some kind of villain in your stories?" asked the actor.
"I am Destiny," said the being. "I am of the Endless. I wait at the crossroads of every human life. Only a few are privelaged to see my countenance once. You, Superman, have seen it twice."
Superman stood, hands on his hips. "I don't like the way you operate."
"That counts for nothing," said Destiny. "The lesson is almost over. What have you learned?"
The Kryptonian pointed an angry finger at the robed being. "I've learned that you seem to take it upon yourself to meddle cavalierly in the affairs of everyone you want to, without considering their feelings or asking permission. Endless or not, your manner of working stinks."
The actor lay a hand on Superman's shoulder, marvelling at the power of it, now that he wasn't in that body. "Superman, wait. All right, we have undergone...an experience. We didn't ask for it."
"We were not even given a choice," snapped Superman, not wavering his gaze from Destiny's form.
"But...I did learn from it. Didn't you?"
Superman paused, looked back at the actor. After a moment, he said, "Well, yes. In terms of a new experience, I learned a lot more than I ever wanted to know. About...helplessness, I suppose. And powerlessness. I've lost my powers, on many occasions. But never, ever before, Chris, did I ever feel so helpless."
The actor stared at his new friend, soberly. "Superman. I don't consider myself helpless. And I have never considered myself powerless. Not even as my body is, today."
Destiny said nothing.
Finally, Superman responded. "You're right, Chris. I apologize. If anything, I learned about the power you wield. And that may be a power greater than any I possess."
The actor smiled. "I'm not so sure of that, Superman. All I could try to do with your body is kind of try to keep from screwing things up too badly. I'm not sure how well I did. But at least I didn't knock down all of Metropolis trying." He paused. "I wouldn't want your life. Even if I have to go back to being paralytic. I want my wife and kids. I want to do what I have to do."
Superman considered, then said, "It doesn't seem like a fair bargain for you, Chris. I get to go back to playing super-hero, being a reporter. And yet..."
"What?"
The Man of Steel looked at the actor almost pathetically. "You know, until today, I never appreciated...not really...the powers that a normal man enjoys. The power to walk down the street. To talk without great effort. To breathe without a machine. To lift my arm and...feel...and know that this machine, my body, will do what I tell it to. At least, unless something terrible happens to it. And the odds are against that, at my power level. But even there, you know...something could."
The actor nodded. "Stay away from jumping horses, anyway."
Superman smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." Then he glanced at Destiny and said, "So that's the lesson? That I had to learn what it's like to be paralytic, and he had to learn what it's like to be the most powerful man on Earth?"
Destiny was silent.
"Tell me," said Superman.
"Tell us," corrected the actor.
Destiny spoke again.
"The lesson is what you perceive it to be," he said. "You are your own teachers. I am but a facilitator. I am Destiny. You will not speak of this day, or of myself, to any other. But you will remember it for the rest of your lives."
He put his hand to his great book, and began to open it.
Superman anticipated the oncoming event. "I never want to see you again, Destiny."
Destiny replied, "You will never see me again, I think. But at each and every turn of your lives, at each crossroads of Destiny...I am there."
The Man of Steel turned towards the actor. "Chris. You're a good man. A very, very good man."
The actor managed to get out, "And you're Su--", before the book seemed to envelop them and they saw each other and Destiny no more.
*****
And then Clark Kent woke up.
Lois's hand was underneath his pillow, nudging it. "Clark. Come on. It's 7:00 and I'm not leaving you breakfast in the microwave."
"Uh?" He shook his head. He looked down at himself. He was clad in his PJ's, with the covers half-thrown off. "Lois? What happened?"
She grabbed his arm and helped tug im out of bed. "What happened is that I filed a story about my capture by Luthor, my rescue by Superman, and all that, last night. That Lana Lang soloed for you on the news. And that your job will be saved only if you can get in there and finish selling Morgan Edge on what I started selling him on before I left, that interview with Lex Luthor that you are going to do."
"With Luthor?" Clark rubbed his eyes. "What interview?"
"Get up," insisted Lois. Super or not, he was as hard to get out of a warm bed as any other dumbbell American male. "Don't you remember, for crying out loud? Luthor says he's reforming. I don't know about that, but he's also saying that he's going to work on medical problems from here on in. Specifically, spinal research."
"Spinal research?" Clark sat up on the edge of his bed. "As in, spinal injuries and such."
"Yeah. Uh-huh," said Lois. "Good Lord, how did you get as far as you have without me around? Remember, you had that long talk with him last night? And he called up the Planet last night, saying he wanted to do an exclusive with me? But I convinced him to do it with you, so you could keep your job? Get into your clothes, for pity's sake!" She rummaged around in his closet for a blue suit that didn't look ten years out of date.
"Lois," he said. "You were kidnapped by Luthor last night, right?"
"Right," she said, tossing a suit at him. He caught it.
"And I saved you, right?"
"Of course you did, Clark. Even though you acted, I don't know, kind of funny when I saw you. But if you took as much K as the eyewitnesses said you did, I guess I'm not surprised. That was probably why I saw you passed out in your street clothes and Superman suit."
"Oh," he said. "And you...?"
"I undressed you and dragged your leaden 200-pound body to bed," said Lois. "Thank you again for saving me, but I don't want to do that again, even if you do. Now. Are you all together yet, Clark?"
"I, well, I suppose I am," he said. "Where's my working suit?"
"You'd better use your heat vision on it if you intend to wear it under your suit today. It stinks."
"Okay." He paused. "Lois. What did I act like, yesterday?"
She looked thoughtful. "You seemed a little less sure of yourself. And you acted as though you'd forgotten a few things. But I was really impressed with the way you handled Luthor. Almost like you'd found a new way to get to him. And, you know something? I guess you did."
"Hmm," he said. "I guess. I guess I did, at that. Lois."
"What?"
He picked her up, threw her a foot into the air, and caught her. She shrieked, half in joy. "Good grief, Clark! I know you're glad to see me back, but you don't have to throw me into the light fixture!"
"What's a super-body for if you can't use it every once in awhile? You mentioned breakfast."
"Toast, eggs, and bacon. In the kitchen. Then we catch a bus to work."
"We'll walk."
"What?"
"We can walk. It's only five blocks to the next bus stop after the one outside, and we'll have time."
She looked at him, still engaged in his arms. "Are you planning on flying, or what?"
"Lois, the good Lord gave us two good legs, and feet at the end of them. And I am very pleased to have mine in working order. I intend to use them as often as I can. We'll walk."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure as I'm the kid from Krypton," he murmured. "We'll walk. You'll probably enjoy it."
She looked at him again. "I probably will. Maybe. Let's eat first."
They did.
And all through the meal, she wondered why she saw him flexing the muscles of one arm and then the other, whichever one wasn't holding his fork or glass.
*****
And then the actor woke up.
He woke up to the familiar noise of the ventilator by his bed.
He felt only numbed sensation in part of one arm, less in a few other parts of his body, nothing at all in most.
Before waking up, he had commanded an arm whose blow could shatter a steel safe. Now, he could not so much as twitch his pinky.
The familiar metal bands encircled him in the chair. The smells, the sights, they were all familiar to him. Sickeningly familiar.
At least, after the last day.
"Dana," he called, as loudly as he could. "Dana."
In a few moments, she entered. "Chris? Are you...back?" Her eyes held hope and fear.
He was quick to answer. "It's me, Dana. I'm back."
She did not hold back her embrace, or her tears.
"What happened?" he asked. "What happened. Yesterday?"
"You lost your memory, Chris," she said, when she composed herself. "You were...well...another personality."
"Oh," he said. "What was I. Like?"
She held the hand of his that had the most sensation in it. "You weren't bad. You seemed to know all about Superman, but nothing about yourself. You are yourself again, aren't you?"
"I'm normal," he said. "Again."
"Thank God," she breathed, and held his hand tightly. "It's good to have you back, Chris. It's so good to have you back."
With an effort, he said, "The speech. Did I. Make the speech?"
"Why, yes, Chris. I wanted you to call it off, but you just wouldn't. You went, and you spoke about, well, Superman. And they just loved it. One of the board members had it videotaped." She looked at him. "It's strange. You didn't know who you were, but you gave a standing-O speech."
"I spoke," he said. "About Superman?"
She nodded. "And you don't remember it?"
"Not a. Thing."
She smiled. "That's good."
Then she went out into the hallway and called, "Will. Your daddy's awake. Come see him before you go to school."
Footsteps approaching with a familiar childish gait. Then the familiar face of his son. "Daddy?" he said, tentatively.
He smiled. "Yes, son. It's me. The old me."
The kid rushed over and hugged him as best he could.
It would be hard to accept this body, now. Hard to readjust to a form which was so much less than what he had tasted.
He had tasted the power of Superman.
It was so much more than he had ever imagined, than he ever could have imagined. Now, he had a tube in his mouth, and a body that wouldn't work from the neck down.
But he also had a wife and a son whom he loved, and who loved him back.
This was where he belonged. Not among men in costumes, or strange figures with books chained to their arms. Even if he never walked again, he had his family, his world, and his work.
No, there was more than that. If Lex Luthor had indeed been persuaded by him, and he thought that Luthor seemed as sincere as a penitent when last he saw him, then there was a chance that his great mind would be harnessed to the task. There was a possibility that a cure or repair of the wounded spine would be found, on Superman's world. If any mind could achieve it, perhaps Lex Luthor's could.
And perhaps that would be payment for what had been a wasted life.
Only he had a feeling that Luthor's would not be such a wasted life from here on, after all. His words had helped. As Superman's had, on this world, just a day ago.
Perhaps that was another lesson. There had to be many lessons still not perceived, in that one day of feverish transexperience.
Apparently Destiny knew something of what he was doing.
But the actor was glad that he would never see him, or any of the others he had met that day, again. As glad as he was to have their memories. He would never forget any of them.
And he was very glad, above all things, to be home.
Even in the old body.
Especially in the old body.
He smiled. There was still work to do.
*****
In days to come, Superman made a point of visiting hospital wards containing spinally injured patients, and talking to them and their loved ones. He would only say that a good friend of his had been so injured, and that Lex Luthor was still working on a cure.
Whether Luthor was successful or not is beyond the power of this writer to say. It is enough to say that he tried, and that he was allowed, within the scope of the prison system and allied medical facilities, to perform research on that and other human medical problems. Luthor's research propelled more than a few medical breakthroughs. He won commendations, not the least of which came from Superman himself. Even Lois Lane said that, if it took her getting captured to spark something like this, she'd let Luthor do it every year.
The actor's story is still being written every day, as are those of all who dwell in the world he inhabits, and in our world, and all worlds besides. Stories must stop at some point. At least, the ones which are written.
As for Destiny, he is said to keep his own counsel and to be very busy, and is seen by only a few persons throughout eternity. Only the Endless saw him more than Superman. But he would probably assure you that many lessons were learned from the day two men would never forget, though they mentioned them to none.
And perhaps among the two greatest lessons were these:
That one of those men knew what it was like not to walk, but that someday, all such men might walk again.
And that the other believed indeed that somewhere, in a world he would never reach again, a man could truly fly.
An afterword will follow.