Action Comics #11: "Return to Smallville, Part 3"

Smallville, 10 years ago…

They lay in each other’s arms almost until dawn, as if certain that this was all they would ever have of each other. He was leaving in the morning for parts unknown and she was moving to Star City… Neither knew when they would ever see each other again.

When the first rays of sun began shining through the second storey window of the barn, they finally stirred themselves. He insisted on walking her home, but she couldn’t bear it. She kissed him one last time, lingeringly, gently, then left him in that hay loft with the memory of one perfect night…

But Lana Lang’s night wasn’t over.

It was a short walk from the Kent Farm to her aunt’s. There was a dirt road that wound around the fields, but Lana decided to take the shortcut through the wheat. There was a thin lane, and she knew the labyrinth by heart, both she and Clark having used it many times before when they crept from their bedroom windows for late night assignations.

The sun was just coloring the horizon, but the sky was still dark in most places. She could still see the stars above the tall rows of softly susurrating wheat.

Something rustled in the grain nearby. Lana paused, peering through the stalks. It must have been Shelby, Clark’s dog. Or maybe it was one of her aunt’s cats. She went on, more cautiously.

A second later, there was another disturbance in the wheat. And this one was too big, too loud to be a dog or a cat. There in the pre-dawn hour, in a wheat field in Smallville, Kansas, Lana Lang saw something not of this world rising in front of her.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound died in her throat as she was bathed in the radiance of a purple beam.

Today…

“Connor!”

Lana’s shriek echoed in Clark’s head. He was already in motion. Moving faster than the eye could follow, he scooped up Lana, Pop and the young couple that were the only two customers in the shoppe, and threw them beneath a table, shielding them with his body, just as Connor’s heat vision found and ignited the gas line!

The soda shoppe went up in a ball of fire, the blast immolating nearly everything that wasn’t in the radius of Clark’s protective embrace.

The roar of the explosion drowned out Lana’s screams, but she kicked and flailed against Clark, frantic to go to her son. Flaming tinder bounced harmlessly off his back and shoulders, but he held her and the others down.

Clark risked a glance behind him. He knew Connor would have survived the blast--- his evidently Kryptonian physiognomy impervious to harm--- but he was not prepared for what he saw. The boy hovered there, his eyes still glowing red, and his face screwed into a fierce expression. His fists were cocked for violence.

“Connor, wait---!” He cried.

But it was too late. The boy flew straight at him, fist first.

His cloths burnt from the explosion and hanging from him in tatters, it was Superman that rose to meet the boy’s attack. He braced himself and collected Connor to him like a wide receiver catching a football. The impact sent them both crashing backward, through the walls of the shoppe and out into the street!

Cars swerved and jammed on their brakes as the two rolled out onto Main Street, Conner kicking and pummeling atop the Man of Steel.

The blows Connor rained down on Superman were powerful enough to pulverize diamonds. Stunned and disorientated, it was a moment before Superman could seize the arms of the furious little boy, halting the attack momentarily.

“Connor, wait! Calm down, son!” He yelled at him, surprised by how hard pressed he was to control the boy’s flailing limbs. Above him, Connor Lang fumed and scowled ferociously.

“I can help you.” Superman said soothingly. “I can teach you to control all this.”

Connor’s eyes burned a darker, deeper red. When he spoke, it was not with the voice of a nine year old, but with one that Superman found familiar, though he had heard it only recently.

“Kryptonian fool!” Spat the boy, straddling Superman’s chest. “Anything I want from you, I will take!”

The words caught Superman by surprise. In a rush, stunned realization washed over him--- he’d been duped. He fixed Connor with his x-ray vision, and instead of muscle, tissue and blood, he saw only gears and servos and cybernetics…

This was not his son--- or Lana’s!--- this was a machine.

Taking advantage of the Man of Steel’s momentary confusion, the construct that was Connor wrenched its hands free, and curling them into fists, pounded them hard into Superman’s chest!

The blow hurt. Superman cried aloud in pain, and rolled, throwing his attacker off of him. Connor wasted no time. It rose into the air, hovering just far enough away to use its heat vision with impunity. He burned a scar across the street, tracing a line to the library on the corner. The building went up in flames, people scurrying from it like ants from a mound.

Holding his bruised ribs, Superman pulled himself from the ground, squinting up at Connor. He inhaled deeply, despite the pain it caused him, then blew a hurricane-strength gust of wind at the construct that sent it tumbling end over end, out over the horizon. Then, without hesitation, Superman kicked off the ground and flew into the burning library to pull out those trapped within.

He flew her towards the hospital, though she appeared not to have any physical injuries. Lana held him tightly around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

“What happened to him, Clark? What happened to my son?”

He swallowed, putting aside for a minute that she had just called him by his real name, and told her gently: “Lana, I don’t know how to tell you this… Connor isn’t your son. He isn’t even human.”

She raised her tear-streaked face to look at him, appalled. “What are you talking about?” Her lip quivered. “I’ve always known there was a chance he’d inherited your powers, but he’s still my son! Oh, don’t look so surprised, Clark! I realized from the first moment I saw Superman on the TV that you and he were one and the same! And I’ve always kept your secret, left you to your good work… I always hoped Connor would join you in it one day…” Tears welled anew in her eyes.

They flew through some low-hanging clouds, clinging tightly to each other.

“Lana, think: do you even remember giving birth to Connor? Changing a diaper? A first tooth?” A thought struck him, and he scanned her with his x-ray vision, horrified by what he found. “There’s a metal chip attached to the base of your brain, and its molecular composition is not of this planet. I have no doubt that it’s been feeding you false memories all this time.”

“My son is not a figment of my imagination, Clark!” She raged back at him, disengaging her arms. She pounded on his shoulders and back, her chest heaving with her sobs.

Superman pulled her closer to him. Nothing he could do would comfort her now, except maybe to just be there for her. He knew Connor was no figment of anyone’s imagination. He was very real, and very dangerous. But still, he was just a tool, a decoy. Who was the real menace behind what was happening?

He rose up high in the air over Smallville, scanning the town with both his eyes and ears.

The disaster on Main Street seemed to be under control, with both fires now out. And though there was millions of dollars in property damage, no lives had been lost thanks to Superman’s quick actions.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary in Smallville. He peered into every abandoned building, every grain silo and bomb shelter, but there was no sign of Connor or his mysterious enemy.

*I told you before, Kal-El, you will not find me unless I wish it.* Came the sinister voice in his head again.

*Brainiac!*

*Indeed. That is how the people of Kyrpton knew me. On my birthworld Colu, I am called Vril Dox, but I think I prefer Brainiac.*

*Krypton?* Superman was taken aback. *What do you know of Krypton? And what do you want with me?*

*Both excellent questions, Kal-El.* Brainiac replied. *But not the ones you should be concerned with. Instead you should be asking yourself: if I could so easily manipulate Lana Lang, have I gotten to others who are close to you?*

Superman’s blood ran cold. Only one thought ran through his mind: Ma!

He dove to earth, streaking across the horizon to the Kent Family farm, Brainiac’s mirthless laughter echoing in his ears.

He found her almost immediately in the house, working at the stove and humming to herself. She glanced over her shoulder at him as he burst into the kitchen, concern on his face.

His x-ray vision had already shown him the metal chip in her head.

She smiled at him, stirring a large pot. “You’re just in time for dinner, Clark.” She said sweetly. “I even made your favorite.” She reached into the pot, and pulled something out, turning to face him.

In her outstretched hand was a dripping, green glowing rock.

“Kryptonite stew.” She announced proudly, taking a step towards him.

Suddenly awash with nausea, Superman staggered away from her, falling into the living room.

“Ma, no!” He held up his hand to ward her off, but she followed him, seeming to be blissfully unaware of his distress.

“Come now, Clark. Give your mother a hug…”

Already too feeble from exposure to the kryptonite, he stumbled backward, making for the door. He needed to get outside, to put some distance between himself and that rock.

He reached the door, falling heavily against it, and tore it open. There on the front porch, a surprised expression on his face, was Pete Ross. He had been just about to knock...

“Pete, help.” Superman gasped, leaning weakly on his oldest friend. “It’s Ma, she---.”

Hanging from a chain around Pete’s neck was another chunk of Kryptonite. Smiling, he undraped it and loped it around Superman’s neck, the Man of Steel now too weak to resist. He fell out of Pete’s arms, blacking out before he reached the boards.