Greg Cox - Man of Steel

The cell door slid open. Lois poked her head out and took a cautious breath, afraid that the air would still be too alien for comfort. But Jor-El had adjusted the atmosphere, as promised. She could breathe easily.

That was one less thing to worry about.

She slipped out into the cramped, murky corridor, accompanied by Clark’s father. By this time she had figured out that he was a hologram, a computer program who apparently could traverse the ship at will. He looked deceptively solid, but he was as insubstantial as, well, a phantom.

For a brief moment she hoped they could get away undetected, but then Car-Vex spotted her. The female soldier charged, drawing a creepy-looking Kryptonian pistol.

Lois prayed it had a “stun” setting.

Right, she thought. I should be so lucky.

But before woman could fire, an emergency blast door slammed down from the ceiling, pinning her to the floor. Her pistol was knocked from her grip and went skidding across the nacreous tiles toward Lois.

Lois glanced sideways at Jor-El. “Did you do that?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Take her sidearm. Keep moving!”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Scooping the freaky alien gun from the floor, she sprinted after Jor-El, who guided her through a bewildering maze of arteries. Her sweaty palm was wrapped around the grip of the pistol. She had never fired a ray-gun before, but figured there was a first time for everything.

She wondered how long that door was going to hold Car-Vex.

Blaring klaxons echoed off the walls of the science ward. Jax-Ur looked up from his work, his expression twisted in surprise. He triggered an intercom, but then found himself short of breath. He gasped and clutched his throat.

“What’s… happening?” he croaked hoarsely.

Superman smiled.

“It’s called a backup plan. Your ship’s atmospherics just switched back to Earth levels, which means I’ve got my strength again.” Steely blue eyes, with a hint of solar red, fixed on Jax-Ur. “So if I were you, I’d start running.”

Superman tested his shackles again. Straining beyond his limits, he ripped one loose, freeing his right arm. Jax-Ur’s sunken eyes grew wide. Coughing painfully, he staggered out of the lab as quickly as he could manage. He clutched the stolen blood sample to his chest.

Superman let him go. He took a deep breath, pulling the Earth-like air into his lungs. He felt his strength rushing back.

That’s more like it, he thought.

Lois hoped Jor-El knew where he was going.

They dashed through curved tunnels that branched out at wild angles—the weirdly biological architecture reminded her of the spaceship in the Arctic, but on a massive scale. Emergency lights provided only dim illumination, but her eyes soon adjusted to the gloom. She spotted another junction ahead.

“To the left,” Jor-El instructed. “Fire!”

She spun and clumsily fired the pistol, grateful that the trigger mechanism had been designed for humanoid hands. A white-hot plasma pulse knocked a Kryptonian soldier on his back. Lois grinned in satisfaction, but her momentary victory was cut short by the sight of reinforcements approaching from the corridor on the right. Boots pounded on the floor as they shouted at her to surrender.

Lois wondered how many shots her blaster held. Even though she had seen only a handful of soldiers aboard the ship, she was still outnumbered here.

Jor-El gestured toward the tunnel and another blast door slammed into place, cutting off her attackers. They pounded angrily on the other side of the thick barrier, and Lois decided Jor-El was a pretty handy guy to have around.

“This way!” he said.

She followed his lead, stepping over the fallen soldier. Swiftly they rounded another corner.

“Ahead you will find an escape pod,” he said. “Secure yourself. I’ll take care of the rest.”

A portal irised open, revealing a padded seat inside a spherical cavity. Lois climbed into the seat, which faced the corridor outside. She yelped in surprise as silken restraints automatically strapped her into the seat, and briefly wondered if it had all been a trap.

Then display panels pulsed to life as the pod powered up and was shunted into a long black launch tube. A transparent canopy began to lower. Lois felt as if she was stuck on some futuristic amusement park ride—one which was just about to get rolling.

“Safe travels, Ms. Lane,” Jor-El said. “We will not likely see each other again. And remember what I said. The Phantom Drives are the key to stopping them.” He paused, as though he had suddenly become aware of something, and offered a final piece of advice. “Shift your head to the left.”

Huh?

She quickly did so.

“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed as she realized why

Car-Vex burst through the hologram’s immaterial form. Red-faced and panting, she drove her fist through the back of Lois’s seat, just to the right of the reporter’s head, missing her skull by only millimeters.

The soldier yanked her fist back, leaving a gaping hole in the seat. Lois gulped.

Strapped in her seat, she was a sitting duck with nowhere to run. She hastily raised the stolen pistol and took aim, but the Kryptonian female snatched it from Lois’s grasp. With practiced skill, Car-Vex flipped the gun in her hand and pointed its skeletal muzzle.

She fired point-blank.

At the last instant the pod’s exterior hatch crashed down, deflecting the shot. Car-Vex ducked as sparks sprayed from the pod’s damaged plating. She swore in Kryptonian.

Lois gasped in relief. That had been way too close.

Before the frustrated soldier could fire again, a sudden burst of acceleration slammed Lois into what was left of her seat. She shrieked, clutching onto it with white knuckles, as the pod zoomed down the launch tube like a rocket sled, leaving Car-Vex behind. Spinning madly, it shot out of the Black Zero and into open space.

Then it tumbled toward Earth, hundreds of miles below.

Klaxons blared inside the Kryptonian science ward. Regaining his full strength, Superman tore loose his remaining shackles and jumped off the examination table. It felt good to back on his feet again.

Jor-El appeared before him.

“Father!” Superman exclaimed. “Is it true? What Zod said about the Codex?”

The hologram nodded.

Superman tried to understand.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Heavy footsteps beat a military tattoo outside. He heard a couple of Kryptonian soldiers running toward the lab. Charged plasma rifles were locked and loaded. The soldiers fired through the doorway as he ducked for cover. He hadn’t forgotten how that plasma whip had stung him back on Ellesmere.

White-hot bursts scalded the walls and table, and ricocheted wildly around the lab. Superman raised his cape to shield himself from the flying energy.

“We’re out of time,” Jor-El said. “Strike the panel to your left.”

Superman had many more questions, but his father was right—now was not the time for a lengthy discussion. Trusting Jor-El, he punched the indicated panel. A fist of steel tore through a solid bulkhead, puncturing the outer hull of the Black Zero.

Hurricane winds roared as the science ward’s atmosphere was sucked out into the vacuum of space. The breach expanded, and loose apparatus vanished through it, caught up by the explosive decompression. It reminded Superman of the tornado that had carried away Jonathan Kent, so many years ago. Pushing the painful memory aside, he dug his fingers into a sturdy bulkhead, anchoring himself against the voracious pull.