MtS update

People talked about the cold of space, but that was a bit of a misnomer. It was really more lukewarm. Starlight had its own warmth, remote as it was, and there wasn’t exactly a wind chill factor. With the ring devoting just a miniscule fraction of its power to heating, Kyle Rayner felt the depths of space as if he were swimming through tepid water.

It was coming in for a landing in the Arctic that chilled him. He summoned up a glowing green parka for himself—inefficient, as his power ring was automatically compensating for the dip in temperature, but he just felt better being stuffed in down, even simulated ring-construct down.

And there was his destination. The aptly named Fortress of Solitude. Kyle reminded himself to talk to the Guardians about some kind of Green Lantern outpost on Earth. A nice one, in Chelsea maybe. If the Justice League could have embassies and Diana could have a whole island, surely he rated better than a hostel. Then again, having one of those built would probably make him roommates with Guy Gardner.

“Hello? Supes?” he called, standing underneath an opening the size of a basketball court. It wasn’t the door, it was the keyhole—the key itself was a twenty miles away, visible from high-atmosphere orbit to lead emergency visitors to the Fortress. And though Kyle knew his power ring packed a whallop, he wasn’t sure about trying to lift that hundred-foot-long hunk of heatvision-carved asteroid. Fear or not—not, obviously, in his case—he didn’t feel like trying to bench-press Superman’s weights would end well for him.

So, assuming Superman was home, he tried to get the guy’s attention. “Hey, someone order a pizza?” he asked, ring-constructing a giant stacks of pizzas and an order of breadsticks. John had told him that visualizing conversational topics as constructs would help him familiarize himself with the ring—though it seemed like a bad habit to get into if he was going to get into many more team-ups with Power Girl.

Kyle dismissed the pizza construct. Seemed immature. “Hey, it’s me, Green Lantern? The new one? We met on the Watchtower! Look, I was in deep space, fighting Legion—I fight Legion—and, well, I found this rocket sorta thingey? It looked—it looks really Kryptonian, so I thought I’d bring it here and you could add it to your collection or run a diagnostic on it… put it in your garage… whatever.”

Nobody home. Kyle set his cargo—held delicately in power-construct bindings—down in front of the imposingly shut door. “Okay, maybe you’re in the can… I’m just gonna leave this here and tell Oracle to get in contact with you. I’ve got important stuff to do, you know. I can’t babysit this thing all day. Besides, it’s been floating in space for thirty years… it’ll hold.”

After all, he’d been off-world when the Evilutionist’s device went off. For the first time, he had the market cornered on both sensitive artist type and virile child-fatherer. He should at least hit up a few clubs while he was there, give Soranik and Jade at least a little reason to be jealous…

***

As Kyle flew off, feeling a bit like a glorified UPS driver, the capsule sat patiently before the Fortress of Solitude. As before, as it had for millions of cycles, its systems ran a routine scan of the surroundings. The capsule had passed through many solar systems in its interstellar travels. But for the first time, its scans revealed two important distinctions.

First, that it was on a habitable world of yellow sunlight.

Second, that there was other Kryptonian technology in the vicinity.

Its conditions met, the capsule’s systems trudged to life beyond the simple maintenance of its machinery and upkeep of its cargo. To an outside observer, the capsule might appear as cold and dead as ever, but the quiet, cool build-up of energy was nonetheless enough to have raised a thousand detections if Kyle’s ring were still monitoring it. In seconds, it went from stealthy, zero-loss energy continuity to half the wattage of New York City.

And the intricately woven suspension of time that the capsule had spent a quarter-century keeping pristine, now began to be undone.

Kara Zor-El was waking up.

***

Hours later, it was with a long sigh of relief that Mercy rose on shaky legs and made her way to the light switch. She had never been so affected sexually by anything, and it frightened her. She felt shamefully wet up between her thighs, and lower, where his seed had seeped down her legs. She was at a loss for words for a long moment, and then mercifully Clark crooked his finger. Staggering toward him in the light, Mercy collapsed back to the bed and fell to him, enjoying the sight of her lovers without the blackness to obscure them.

“I think you could use a rest,” he said. “Before we start again.”

God… another fuck like that one? She shuddered at the thought as she made herself comfortable. She wasn’t sure she could take more of him, for she’d lost her hard-won self-control as thoroughly as she could’ve, been as helpless a victim of passion as any wedding night virgin. What would happen if she kept giving in to these craven desires?

The thought seemed to force a decision between continuing her relationship with Clark, and Lois, or abandoning it for the sake of her discipline. She couldn’t face such a choice, and she distracted herself as she always distracted herself. By sublimating her issues into service to a man. A strong, domineering man…

“How are you planning on handling this?” she asked Clark over Lois’s reclining body.

“I think I just gave you a pretty good idea.”

“Not sex.” Mercy shuddered. “Not sex… marriages. Will you be marrying Lois and Lana?”

“Yes,” Clark said. “Of course.”

“As Clark Kent?”

“It’s who I am. Superman is just…” He shrugged.

“Superman is Superman,” Lois said simply.

“People will wonder why Superman isn’t doing his part to repopulate the planet. Lex would.” As if her mind was well-rested from the thoughtless pleasure she’d received for hours on end, it now performed at record speed. “And both Lois Lane and Lana Lang have been associated with Superman as much as with Clark Kent. If they both marry Clark, without a second thought to Superman, it will be suspicious.”

Clark raised an eyebrow in genuine admiration at her foresight. He exchanged a glance with Lois. “What would you suggest?” he asked the bodyguard.

“As Clark, marry women that have no connection to Superman. And as Superman, marry women that have no connection to Clark. It will blur the shared characteristics of your two lives. Most will continue believing that Superman has no secret identity. That’s your greatest asset.”

“Hold on now!” Lois cried. “It’s one thing to bring Mercy into this—one thing to bring Lana into this—but fucking, marrying a bunch of random women just to throw people off? I just got this big lug!”

“She’s right,” Clark said. He patted Lois’s hip. “Lana will think so too. It’s not uncommon in the galaxy. On Tamaran, relationships can run a gamut from the platonic, to the sexual, to the intimate and romantic. There are soulmates, spouses, lovers, flings… that can be the case on Earth, now that the Evilutionist has made monogamy impossible.”

“Really?” Lois demanded. “So you wouldn’t give a damn if I shacked up with some guy, with Lex flippin’ Luthor even!”

“I’d give a damn that you’re happy,” Clark replied.

Lois grabbed Mercy suddenly, pulled her to her lips, and kissed her strongly. Clark waited patiently for them to finish.

“That make you happy, loverboy?” Lois asked. “I mean, jealous, I mean…”

“Jealousy isn’t logical. That seems cold, but it is my Kryptonian heritage. And for a long time there, you were in love with both Clark Kent and Superman. What if we were two separate people? What if you could have both?”

“Like I said,” Lois retorted, “Superman is Superman. I didn’t love him, I crushed on him. You’re who I love.”

“Still… if you could marry me, and then there was Superman, and I wouldn’t be jealous…”

Lois threw up her hands. “I guess! I knew I was going to have to share you with the world, didn’t know I was going to have to share your dick—“

“This was your idea,” Mercy pointed out, eyes closed, falling asleep, still smug.

“It was kinda hot seeing your dumb ass getting super-fucked,” Lois retorted. “I’ve been waiting for someone to wipe that smug look off your face for years. Didn’t know it would be with bukkake, but I’ll take what I can get. Hey!” Lois rolled over to address Clark. “Cat Grant! She’s always been throwing herself at you—I wouldn’t mind seeing her finally get it. Finding out sweet, innocent Clarkie’s got a monster of a cock…”

“Lois,” Clark said gently, “we should probably—“

“No, no, Mercy’s right, this is a good idea.” Lois ignored Mercy as the brunette snuggled up behind her. “I just want to be there when it happens, when she finally meets a dick she can’t handle! Eh, Mercy? Eh?”

Mercy was fast asleep.

“Lois, I’m not going to revenge-fuck every girl you’re frenemies with,” Clark stated.

Lois pushed him onto his back. “Wait until I get done to say that.” She threw a leg over him. “I can be real persuasive…”

***

Kara walked through the snow. Tall as she was, it came up to her thighs, which she almost welcomed for the slight concealment it gave to her bare womanhood. She had gone into the capsule wearing clothes, of course, but evidently, the maintenance of her physical functions had done nothing to prevent her clothes from rotting away. Though she felt no shame in her nudity, being of Krypton, she did feel somewhat underdressed, and hugged her arms over her naked breasts. The howling wind had ripped her hair out of the ponytail that a long-decayed fashion accessory had once held in place, and she felt a blush rising as her golden locks whirled about her head. So improper…

She wondered at the climate of this strange world. She’d been told time and again that Earth was warmed by a yellow sun, but there didn’t seem to be much warmth in evidence. Nonetheless, she didn’t feel cold, despite the fact that she was literally wadding through frozen water. So the chemical composition of this planet’s water gave it such a low freezing point that it solidified at this temperate clime. She wondered what the exact elemental and atmospheric requirements for that were—an interesting logic problem to occupy her time as she walked south.

Her capsule having been programmed to open in the recognition of other Kryptonian tech, she had expected the baby Kal-El to be in the vicinity, but there had only been some odd structure whose AI had adamantly informed her capsule’s AI that Kal-El was not present. Kara suspected it was some long-lost, far-flung Kryptonian probe-post, still operating eons after its findings had been recorded and disseminated. Which meant that she would have to look for Kal—if he’d even landed on this world…

Kara tried to focus. She could think of no chemical solution to the problem of this cold that didn’t chill her. That worried her. She had been a bright student, expected for placement on the Science Council itself. Had the stasis damaged her mind?

The snow was letting up. Kara could no longer feel it scattering before her pumping thighs, or crunching under her feet. Kara supposed she’d stumbled onto… nothing at all, apparently, as a look down revealed that she was walking on air, a look back showing the cliff that she had carelessly stepped off of.

She was flying. Floating, to be more accurate.

Yellow sunlight.

She supposed Jor-El hadn’t been such a crackpot after all.

***

“Oh, GODDAMN!”

“You lookin’ fine, girl, real fine.”

Kara smiled in relief. Fauna! And it looked to be the very apelike result of convergent evolution that Jor-El had intended them to find. She was on Earth, after all!

“Sorority rush, right, right? Damn, you one fine sorority girl…”

“Wanna warm up, sugar tits?”

Kara tried to recall her language lessons. This sounded like English, which would mean she was in Alaska probably, given her proximity to the Pole. Or… was it Australia? She should ask, only it was quite hard to understand them when they were talking so fast and so garbled, nothing at all like the dream-lessons of her cryosleep. Oh well, it didn’t matter. As mammalian primates, they were probably alternating between greetings and informing of the social hierarchy. Cute little buggers.

And they probably think I’m some sort of social retard, not properly grooming myself—I’m covered in this—frozen water stuff! Smiling apologetically, Kara brushed herself off, and the men of the fishing village watched raptly as she cleared the snowflakes from her body. Her pert body barely jiggled, so much of it toned muscle already from the sunlight she had absorbed through a convenient hole in the ozone layer… but jiggle it did. Some.

“Gotta get her inside—“

“Yeah, where it’s warm—“

“Should probably huddle together for warmth—“

“Get her something to drink too—“

“Probably be real thankful, she will be—“

Kara still couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it certainly was adorable!

***

“A capsule?” Superman demanded, already flying full speed for the North Pole. It was only advanced New Genesis technology that allowed Barbara Gordon’s signal to keep up with his JLA earpiece. “Those were his exact words? A capsule?”

“Yeah,” Oracle replied. “He said it was probably a deep-space probe of some kind. He couldn’t detect any power readings from it—“

“No, he wouldn’t,” Clark said, thinking of how his own pod had cleared lightyears of deep space without interference from the Citadel or the Reach. “Just left it there…”

“What’s the matter? Do you have reason to believe it’s not just cosmic flotsam?”

“Let me put it this way, Oracle: how do you think I got here?”

Clark came in for a landing. There was a pod, alright. Open. And leading away, a brushstroke of disturbed snow, drawing a line right down the middle of the dead landscape. A quick look at the thermals showed yellowing footprints, rich with rapidly absorbed solar energy, glowing at the bottom of the ditch.

“Kelex!” he barked at the Fortress, receiving an answering tone in his ear as the AI acknowledged him over the JLA communicator’s frequency. “Was there another Kryptonian here?”

“She was not on the guest list,” Kelex reported fussily, still seeming aghast at the indecency of it.

***

Friendly fellows, these natives, but not big on dignity. Already, two of them had displayed their genitalia. As much as she appreciated the social rapport, Kara really hoped they wouldn’t be throwing feces.

“That seems infected,” she told the one on the left, speaking very slowly and loudly. “How do you treat such things here? Do you ingest some kind of root or berry, or do you still use leeches?”

He didn’t appear to understand, just continued his penile ritual. She hoped she was conjugating her English right. Or was it Estonian?

Oh well, the important thing was to further her anthropological studies. It was odd, but she found a sort of quiet majesty in these humble animals, so close to the earth, so in tune with nature.

***

Barging into the half-empty drinking hole, Clark had been half-worried that the Kryptonian girl would kill these people, and half-worried she wouldn’t.

“Superman!”

“This isn’t what it looks like!”

“We wasn’t doin’ nothin’, nothin’!”

“Well, Billy was!”

“She asked to see it!”

“She doesn’t speak English, you idiot!”

Superman’s eyes glowed bright red. “All of you. Outside. Now.” He fixed his gaze on Billy, who was dawdling. “Leave your pants.”

***

This was Kal-El?

He was tall, broad-shouldered, his square jaw and jet-black hair the picture of his father, with his mother’s eyes, and dressed in a way that reminded her of home, but far more vulgar, more… engrossing. Not robes, but skintight, revealing row upon row of well-exercised muscle, bulging full and thick in each limb, extending powerfully below the skin like a layer of armor, and in his red trunks…

Yes. All of his musculature was exquisite. Though his suit was not that immodest, it was Earthly enough to leave no doubt as to that.

He removed his cape and gave it to her, which she swiftly used to approximate a Kryptonian robe. She ended up with more of a poncho, having only the one swath of fabric to work with, but at least it was something. And it seemed the yellow sunlight increased her speed, as she was able to fix her hair into straight locks cascading down her back with little more than merely thinking it so.

He spoke softly to her, in the jabbering language of the apes, but slower and warmer. She thought she understood. He was trying to comfort her, solicitous of her health after everything that had happened. How caring of him. How prudent, to immediately ascertain the state of his property.

“Kal-El? Of Lara and Jor-El?”

He paused in shock, then seemed crestfallen. It struck her as directed inwardly. Perhaps he had thought she’d been raised here as well, and learned English by immersion as he had.

“I am,” Kal-El said, though he sounded uncertain. Perhaps he preferred a simple ‘Kal’.

“I am Kara Zor-El, of Zor-El and Alura. I am promised to you. Would you like to perform your husbandly duties now, or is this not a convenient time for you?”

***

Inside the Watchtower, the scans continued. Every test imaginable, being run all over again, and again, and again…

Batman discounted nothing until it had been triple-checked. Then he lowered its probability somewhat.

“No trace of Bizarro instability,” he said. “None of Project Cadmus’s techniques were used. No non-Kryptonian DNA used as patchwork, and you know how hard Kryptonian DNA is to work with. She’s not a clone. Probably.”

“You’re not going to buy she is who she says she is?” Clark asked.

“That’s one possibility,” Bruce said dubiously. “That out of an entire planet, completely destroyed, somehow you and your child bride were the only survivors. What’s next? Your cousin? Your childhood pet?”

“It’s not coincidence,” Clark said. “We were meant as, well… a breeding pair. Such matches were quite common on Krypton.”

“But she’s of the House of El.”

“It’s a big house,” Clark pointed out. “She must be a very distant relation for the Science Council to have approved a genetic match. From what I’ve read, they didn’t mess around much when it came to DNA.”

“Her genes are clearly distinct from yours.”

“So you’re saying I should mate with her?”

“Does that sound like something I’d say?” Bruce replied. “A clone of you would heavily follow your genetic structure. The fact that she’s so different lends credence to her not being a clone.”

“What’s that leave?”

“Robot, magic, shared hallucination—“

“Just give me a number.”

“Twenty.”

“Only twenty? Married life has made you trusting.”

“I’ll have Zatanna perform some spells on her. If she is Kryptonian, she’ll be vulnerable to magic.” Bruce turned, sensing a good exit line. “That’ll help her case.”

Kara tapped on the glass between the test chamber and the control room. “Husband, who is your friend? Why does he wear such a silly costume? Is he one of Earth’s ‘court jesters’?”

Bruce ignored her. Clark decided to go with that: “In the meantime, you think we could get her some clothes? I’m used to Lois being the only woman who wanders around naked in my cape.”

***

“Are you sure about this, Bea?” Tora asked. She hated to sound nervous, knowing how timid and unassertive people saw her, but this was Superman’s cousin! Shouldn’t they be a little careful with her?

“Oh, relax!” Bea told her, the green-locked heroine throwing open her closets (plural) to show various armories of tops, bottoms, shoes, and coats to the stunned Kryptonian. “When I left Brazil, my new friends loved to let me borrow clothes! It made me feel at home! And I have plenty of stuff from before I filled out. I mean, I could fit into it if I wanted to, I just don’t want to. It should fit Kara here. She’s got a very heroin chic thing going on. Guess that’s what happens when you skip meals for thirty years…”

Tora looked at Kara, who had picked up a slinky top, but was eying it more like some archaeological artifact than part of an ensemble. “I’m just saying, maybe we should get someone younger to dress her. One of the Titans, or…”

“Hey, just because I choose to dress a little classy, doesn’t mean I can’t pull one some emo hipster kiddo look! Now c’mon, help me find the box with my high school stuff in it.”

“It’s here?” Tora asked, looking out the window at the Earth far in the distance. “We’re in space.”

“I keep all my old crap on Watchtower. It’s not like I have room in my apartment, and they don’t want me to keep my vibrator here.”

***

Clark knocked at the door. “Kara? Are you decent?”

“One more moment, cabron! We’re trying to pack eighteen years’ of make-up techniques into a half-hour here!”

“Make-up?” Clark asked. “She looked fine before… Tora, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah—underwear and everything…”

“Kara?”

“I am learning many new English words! What does ‘jailbait’ mean?”

“Uh… I don’t…”

The door opened. Tora skittered out fast. “I have to be somewhere. Nice meeting your cousin!”

“She’s not my—“ Clark sighed, seeing that Bea was emerging now.

“I’m a miracle worker. Just arrived on Earth, met me not one hour ago, and already she’s owning her sexuality!”

“Owning her—“ Clark blinked. “I thought Diana was going to be helping out?”

“Ehh, Diana’s busy.”

“Did you call her?”

“I mean, I’m assuming—“ Bea blew air out her lips. “Anyway, you see how Wonder Woman dresses? French-cut butt-floss thong thing? Love her to bits, but you notice they don’t call her a Wonder Lady. Course, nothing wrong with showing a little skin…”

“Bea, where’s Kara?”

“Right here, my husband.”

Kara walked out of the room, showing off how her Earth clothes fit her trim figure. Bea had shown restraint in applying make-up, or Kara’s own instincts with it had been good, and she favored a minimal look that kept her fresh-faced and innocent… in the most delicious, tempting way imaginable. Her long bright hair was in a ponytail with bangs combed down straight over her forehead, framing her bright blue eyes, her adorable dimples as she smiled at him.

Her breasts were small but pert, accentuating her youth, while an ever-so-short blue and white plaid pleated skirt came up not so far on her waist to cover a ribbon of the creamiest skin imaginable. White knee socks highlighted her slender, golden thighs, with black and white saddle shoes once more restating her innocence.

And on her chest, she wore a Superman T-shirt. Evidently, Bea’d bought it before a growth spurt, for there was not much of her belly it covered. It should’ve made Superman feel old, being a remnant of Bea’s high school years—but it made him feel young. Very, very young.

Kara turned around for him, clearly mimicking a move she’d practiced with Bea and Tora, not knowing or not caring that the motion flipped her skirt up over her ass, to reveal red panties that looked as though they’d been painted on, sweet curves of her tight young ass like slices of an apple, tensing tautly below the elastic band.

She could’ve been a cheerleader at Smallville High, and at the same time she couldn’t have been in Smallville in a million years. She looked just too damn good to step foot in Kansas. Clark had no idea where a woman that glamorous would look right; she was too perfect for anywhere he could think of. Too perfect for anyplace but Krypton.

Maybe those ‘genetic match’ people had had the right idea.

“Does it please you to see me in native raiment, my husband?” she asked sweetly. “I hope they aren’t offended… it could be seen as culturally insensitive. But if you like it…”

She licked her lips. Even her tongue was angelic.

“I do,” Clark said. “I mean, she looks good, right Bea? She looks nice. Very… nice.”

“Husband?” Bea asked. ”Damn, you work fast.”

Clark was trying to avert his eyes without actually averting his eyes. “If you’re, uh, uncomfortable…”

“No, this is very comfortable. The fabric is quite soft for a primitive garment. Feel…”

Clark snatched his hand back before she could even take it. He put it behind his back. “No, that’s okay—I’m just saying, if you’d like, I’m sure I could whip up a costume like mine. You know, Kryptonian…”

“Yes… that does look very fashionable… can you make it easy to take off, like this skirt?”

Clark blinked. “I think I hear a fire. In North America. Gotta go.”

“We’re in space!” Bea said.

“Like I said, I see a fire. North America. Going…”

***

More tests. Now they were measuring her power. If she was who she said she was, she should be able to perform feats. It seemed incredible to Kara that she was expected to shoot heat from her eyes and freeze things with her breath, but Kal sounded very certain. And he’d promised she could wear a skirt. She was so glad. Now she didn’t have to wear those awful ‘panty’ things.

“Of course, when we left Krypton, Kal-El was just a baby. I was expected to raise him to sexual maturity before we mated. I know this wasn’t what our parents intended, but I think I like this way better. He’s already so handsome. I don’t have to wait at all. How strange that I thought it would take so long for me to come to terms with engaging in primitive biological mating sans a matrix birthing chamber. Now I’m looking forward to it. Do you think he’ll mind that I’m a virgin?”

Bruce stared avidly at the test results. All he’d wanted to do was lower the crime rates in Gotham. That was all…

***

“I want an exclusive,” Lois said.

“That’s your first thought?” Clark asked.

“First one I’m saying.”

Clark went to the refrigerator for a slice of Ma’s rhubarb pie. He thought today definitely called for it. Hadn’t even figured out how to tell the Kents he was tying the knot with both Lana and Lois, now he was in this arranged marriage with Kara.

“C’mon, Smallville. You got the last Kryptonian.”

“I was the last Kryptonian.”

“Exactly! It wasn’t fair at all! This one’s mine.”

“Fine,” Clark said. “You can ask her all about how she’s a virgin who’s so looking forward to trying mating the old-fashioned way…”

“Heh, sounds like Lucy in high school.” Lois came over to the breakfast nook to steal a forkful of Clark’s pie. “Give me some credit—if I can get used to Mercy Graves, I can get used to anyone.”

“You shouldn’t have to ‘get used’ to anything. I love you. You should be happy, no compromise.”

“Not exactly realistic, though, is it?” Lois sat down on his lap. “All this talk about humanity being an endangered species and doing our part to sustain it, but we’ve all just given up on Kryptonians. And now there’s hope.”

“There’s always been hope. You’ve met Superboy, he’s a good kid. If the future of the House of El is a bunch of Lang and Lane kids with tactile telekinesis…”

“Good for the House of El. But that’s not really Krypton, that’s a melting pot. You, this Supergirl, a decent birthing matrix, a little luck… you’ve got New Krypton. That’s why you were sent here, right? Not just to get cats out of trees.”

“I’m happy getting cats out of trees.”

“And I’m happy sharing you. She is pretty hot, after all. Two of you are kinda giving me a thing for Kryptonians. Besides, Mercy said Clark Kent and Superman should have separate lives. Kara being Superman’s wife is the ultimate extension of that.”

“I’m not sure I want Clark Kent and Superman to be that far apart.”

“Don’t worry about it. No matter how far you go, Clark or Kal-El, you always wind up back with me. Just go a little further. See where it takes you.”