“What the hell—?”
“It’s one of your surveillance drones,” a familiar voice stated.
The startled officers spun around to find Superman hovering in the air behind them. Swanwick’s temper flared.
“That’s a twelve million dollar piece of hardware!”
“Was,” Superman corrected him, before adopting a more serious tone. “Stop harassing me, General. I know you’re trying to figure out where I hang my cape. You won’t.”
Swanwick didn’t deny the accusation. He wasn’t ashamed of doing his job.
“Then I’ll ask you the obvious question,” he countered. “How do we know you won’t one day act against America’s interests?”
“I grew up in Kansas, General. For an alien, I’m about as American as you can get. But Superman has to be more than that. Do you understand?”
Swanwick listened, but didn’t commit himself. Right now he was more interested in hearing what Superman had to say.
“I’m here to help,” the Man of Steel continued. “It just has to be on my terms. You need to convince Washington of that.”
Swanwick wanted to believe him. Lord knows the man had saved the entire human race from extinction, which ought to entitle him to the benefit of the doubt. But he had also shown the entire world just how unbelievably powerful he was, which was bound to make people nervous.
“Even if I was willing to try, what makes you think they’d listen?”
“I don’t know, General. I guess I’ll just have to trust you.”
With that Superman lifted off into the sky, not like a rocket, but leisurely and at his own pace. Swanwick tilted his head back to watch him ascend, as amazed now as he had been the first time he had seen the alien floating above the gate at NORTHCOM Command. He glanced at Farris, and was surprised to see a huge grin across the young woman’s face. He scowled for form’s sake.
“What are you smiling about, Captain?”
“Nothing, sir,” she said with a shrug, visibly struggling to keep a straight face. “I just think he’s kinda hot.”
You’re probably not the only one, he thought.
* * *
“He always believed you were meant for greater things,” Martha said. “That when the day came, your shoulders would be able to bear the weight.”
She and Clark stood before Jonathan Kent’s grave. It was a clear, sunny day, free of the smoke that had blackened the sky during Zod’s attack. A copy of the Daily Planet was folded beneath her arm. No surprise, the epic conflict in Metropolis had pushed the earlier skirmish in Smallville off the front page, which was probably just as well, Martha mused. His roots didn’t need that kind of attention.
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.”
A B O U T T H E A U T H O R
Greg Cox is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels and short stories. He has w
ritten 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.
A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S
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.
Did you enjoy this book? We love to hear from our readers. Please email us at
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Greg Cox, Man of Steel
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