Tag: martha kent

League of Justice #1.5: “When We Have Shuffled Off”

Smallville, Kansas

Clark sat in the dim light of the bunker beneath his dad’s barn in the middle of Kansas. He was staring at a computer terminal, familiar and yet alien. It was built by a long dead society by his real father to yield to Kal-El (Clark’s real name) any information he needed.

The screen read: ENTER SEARCH TERM OR QUERY

Clark typed: KRYPTON

The computer loaded multiple articles on the planet, the word, history, economics, population studies…Clark stopped reading headings after the first 100. He sighed.

“What happened? Where are you?” He whispered to the semi-darkness. Without warning the hologram of Jor-El appeared.

“‘Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.’ As it says in Proverbs. Of course, the assembled wisdom of all Krypton couldn’t save us from ourselves.”

“Wait, you know the Bible?”

“It was written, partly, by ancient Kryptonians who visited earth in disguise to learn of the cultures and environment. Of course, we intended to only leave behind scattered writings as humans. We had no idea our thoughts would one day be thought of as Scripture.”

“Woah.” Clark just let that one sink in a moment. “But what does the quotation have to do with Krypton. What happened to you? Why are you dead?”

“We are dead because we were arrogant and stupid. Our pride preceded our fall. We exploited and ravaged every single fertile planet in our solar system and beyond. We visited a wreak of destruction everywhere we went. We were smarter and stronger than any race we encountered and we assumed any resource we found was ours for the taking. We stole and we pillaged and we burned. We left nothing for anyone else. It was our undoing. Eventually the White Lantern took notice and sent the Black Corps to punish us. When they arrived we…”

“Wait. White Lantern? Black Corps? Who are they?”

“The Lanterns are intergalactic Peacekeepers who have been around as long as time itself. There are various corps who are tasked with different roles. The White Lantern rules all. The Black Corps deals in judgment. When the Black Corps arrived and started attacking our outposts, we knew our time was up. The Black Corps used to simply reset the balance. They would force an aggressive species back to their home world and allow them to slowly rebuild and explore more wisely. But the ages corrupted their purpose and they only sought vengeance and death. They were intent on our total annihilation. All of this occurred while you were still in womb.”

“So the Black Corps destroyed Krypton? How did I escape?”

“Eventually they did. At first we held them off. General Zod, leader of our armed forces, mounted a furious defense. At first we stood ground, but we were outmatched. The Black Corps beat us all the way back to Krypton. It was then I knew I needed an escape plan, but not for me. For you. Our sector’s Green Lantern visited and…”

“What do the Green Lanterns do?”

“The Green Lanterns guard justice. They are peacekeepers and judiciaries of disputes. Our Green Lantern was Maskill, and he was from a nearby planet, similar to Krypton, and Earth, in many ways. He visited and told me there would be no stopping the Black Corps assault. I asked him for help, and he promised to talk to the White Lantern, intercede on the behalf of life. He was about to leave when General Zod landed where we were and attacked Maskill. I didn’t think Lanterns could die, but so great was Zod’s fury that he completely overwhelmed Maskill and killed him. During the battle I fled. I knew then that saving you was the only way to preserve Krypton.”

“How did you do it?”

“I’ll tell you…”

Krypton, 18 years ago

Jor-El rushed into his home, breathing heavily. Lara, very pregnant, wobbled over to him. “Jor, what is it?”

“Maskill. He came to visit me. But Zod showed up. Killed him.”

Lara gasped. “Why?”

“Zod is consumed with rage. He knows we will lose to the Black Corps and Krypton will die. He spends his rage freely on anything that is against him. We must act quickly, I fear now we have little time. With Maskill’s death, the Green Corps will join the fight. We have less time than we thought.”

“Our baby?”

“Yes. He must endure, and with him the knowledge and life of Krypton.”

“Then let us do this now.”

Lara and Jor-El had been planning during Kal-El’s gestation how to save him, at the least, if all went ill in the battle with the Lanterns. Jor-El had built an escape vessel, loaded with an intelligent artificial brain, and with it Kryptonian genetic material. Should their son survive, so would the Kryptonian race. If he came of age, he could artificially inseminate and Earth woman who would give birth to a new Kryptonian. They programmed the ship for Earth, a planet the Kryptonians had studied long ago. Earthling biology was very similar to, if less evolved than, Kryptonian biology. Kal-El would survive and be disguised by the local population. The AI would chose carefully of the millions of potential landing sites to pick an optimal spot.

Performing delicate surgery, Jor-El and a medical robotic technician transplanted Kal-El from his mother to the capsule. Not daring to lose any time, the fetus would finish maturing inside the capsule, and continue for at least a few years on life support, if need be. It wouldn’t take that long to reach earth, but it might take that long to find a suitable surrogate family.

Safely inside, Jor-El programmed the ship to leave, and it did, with a quiet whumpff of anti-gravity engines. Jor-El and Lara held each other close and watched their son rocket off world.

It was then the Black Corps arrived. Two alien beings, each with two heads, scales, and bright feathers trailing down the spine appeared. They were naked, but upon claws they held black rings. They spoke, rasping.

“What is on the pod, and where does it go, Jor of the house of El?”

“Please, it is our unborn son. He is an innocent. I have sent him to exile on Earth. He will know nothing of Krypton and his unborn hands are innocent of our crimes. Let him live.”

There was silence, then one head spoke.

“So be it. You will die. Your crime is known and your punishment will be swift.”

The black rings glowed and suddenly Jor-El and Lara were ashes.

Smallville, Kansas

Clark Kent closed the door to the underground bunker. His heart was heavy with the knowledge of his parents’ death. He walked over to the farm house porch. His mother was on her rocking chair, enjoying the evening, sipping a lemonade. Clark was 17, and leaving the next day for Metropolis and college life. He had won a scholarship and would have a free education. But tonight he was filled with sadness, both for the parents he never knew, and those he would soon leave behind. Ma could see her son was upset. She rose up, walked to him, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Somewhere, out in the prairie, a bird sang to the dying sun.

League of Justice #1.4: “That Patient Merit”

Smallville, Kansas

Clark Kent, now 15, emerged from the bunker beneath his father’s barn. He had come to refer to it as his “fortress of solitude”. It contained an alien space capsule. A capsule he had been placed inside when only a few days old, a capsule that contained a hologram of his father. My space father. Clark reminded himself. His real father, Jonathan Kent, would be heading out into his fields to work after breakfast. Harvest was soon.

Clark had grown with the knowledge that he was more than he appeared, more than everyone thought. Clark had known ever since he had known anything that he did not belong on Earth, that he was an outsider, a loner, one of a kind, an entirely different species. The reality was hard to accept, most days, because he had arms and legs and hurts and dreams just like all his friends and everyone he knew, but there was that capsule. And, there were, well…other things. As far as he knew, none of his friends had nearly unlimited strength, quickness, or the ability to fly. Clark could hear the slightest sounds at extended distances, see the smallest objects or those far away. He could even shoot lasers from his eyes. He was a freak of nature that he didn’t understand. To make it worse, he had acne, often tripped over his own feet, and was incredibly awkward. In other words: Clark was a teenager with extra headaches.

When he was a small boy, he discovered that he could see and hear much more than anyone else, and more than he himself wanted to hear or see. The constant assault on his senses was more than he could bear. His mother, Martha Kent, had spent extra time training Clark to focus on the sounds and sights he wanted to see and hear and to let everything else fade away into a background buzz. Still, most times Clark wore noise canceling headphones that blocked a majority of what he could hear, making him almost normal, and he wore dark glasses that forced him to only see what was immediate. It was explained to his classmates and teachers all his life as a disability, but Clark knew the real truth: in human terms, he was the superior man, the ubermensch that obsessed Friedrich Nietzsche.

At key points in his life, five years old, ten years old, and today on his fifteenth birthday, the capsule that once kept him alive also would reveal history, information, science, or family details in the form of the hologram of his father, a man named Jor-El from a dead planet called Krypton in a far, far away corner of the galaxy. Today the hologram showed him an interface hidden inside a wall panel, an interface that would allow him to search for any piece of information the seemingly endless database held. The training hologram was finished, the rest of his Kryptonian education was up to him. What he would do with it, Clark had no idea.

He took the porch steps two at a time, which meant a single step from ground to porch, and walked into the old farm house. The screen door closed behind him with a slight bang. It was September, but Kansas was still warm. The fading summer warmth swept through the house on the prairie breeze. Clark could smell his mother in the kitchen, and more importantly, the eggs and bacon she was cooking. His father, from the sounds of it, was still dressing upstairs.

“Good morning, Ma.” Clark hugged his mom from behind while she flipped bacon and stirred eggs.

“Good morning, Clarky. What did your father have to say?” He knew she meant Jor-El. Jonathan Kent was always “Pa”, just as she was always “Ma”.

“The rest is up to me. No more guided lessons. He showed me a built in computer, and how to use it. I can look up anything I want to, read anything stored inside.”

“Wow. Well, Happy Birthday from Krypton!”

“Ma-a” Clark elongated the final “a”. He was less enthused by his galactic heritage than was his mother, but then, Ma always was fascinated by anything and everything scientific. It was she that speculated how he could shoot lasers from his eyes: she postulated light emitting cells embedded in his retina, much like those in bioluminescent animals on Earth, but more powerful, that were focused by Clark’s lens and cornea in the reverse way in which they worked for normal sight. But, speculation it remained since the Kents had never let anyone closely examine Clark for “abnormalities”. His special abilities remained a family secret for now.

Meanwhile, Clark poured some coffee into a “World’s Best Dad” mug, and walked it up the stairs to his dad. He knocked on the door.

“Come in” came from inside, specifically the master bathroom. Clark could hear the scraping of his dad’s razor against his face. He was shaving.

Clark opened the door and walked past the bed into the bathroom. Pa Kent finally smelled the coffee.

“MMmm. That smells good. Coffee for the old man? Thanks, Clark.”

“You’re welcome, Pa. Oh, you missed a spot.”

For a brief second Clark’s eyes glowed red, then a small beam of scarlet light leaped from his eyes, ricocheted off the bathroom mirror, and ended on Pa’s face. There was a small flash and a wisp of smoke curled up from just above Pa’s chin.

“Ow! Scamp! I told you not to do that!” Pa’s anger was a mascarade. In truth the laser felt like a bit of a pinch, and wasn’t all that bright, just enough to singe hair. Clark and Pa were close, and they constantly teased each other. It was around Pa only that Clark felt comfortable being completely himself, relaxing into the full range of his super human abilities. Pa rubbed his face ruefully and sipped the coffee.

“Hm. That’s good coffee. Your mother must have been awake this morning when she brewed it.”

Clark smirked, leaking a small laugh. Martha’s intermittent coffee making skills were a long established family joke.

“Ma says breakfast will be ready soon. Better hurry or I won’t leave any for you.”

“Yeah, right. Then you can walk to school this morning.”

“I’d rather fly!”

“Yeah, that’ll be the day. You keep dreaming, Clark.”

Clark floated down the steps just because he could. Today was a good day. Someday he knew that his powers would be used for more than just playing or showing off. When one could do what Clark could do, it wouldn’t stay hidden for long. And once the world found out about it all, it all would change. When that day would come, or what it would hold, Clark didn’t know. All he could do was patiently wait, and remember what his father told him that morning, in the dim light under the barn:

“You will change the earth, Kal-El. You will be an impossible standard for humanity. They will strive to master you, but will be unable to match even your shadow. Be better than we were. In our arrogance we invited our own end. Use your power only for good, reach down from the heights, and build humanity up. They are young and violent and proud. You will fly in the sun and they will run to catch up. You are an example of the best they can strive towards. They are mere men. You are the super man.”

League of Justice #1.3: “This Mortal Coil”

Smallville, Kansas

Clark was like any other boy, the first few years of his life. He burped, he messed his diaper, he learned to talk, he learned to walk. It was when he learned to fly that Ma and Pa Kent knew he really was from another world. Clark was five, and was hanging from the ceiling fan in his bedroom, spinning in a slow circle and giggling incessantly.

“Clark! Come down from there this instant!” Martha wasn’t going to put up with any horseplay. Not in the house, anyway. Clark released his grip on the fan blade and floated downwards. Martha snatched him out of the air.

“You know better than to do that!” It was only then that Martha realized what exactly had happened. She was so used to being unsurprised by anything that it took a few seconds for the surprise to hit her. She clutched Clark tight, who by now was squirming to be let go, and ran into the kitchen. There Jonathan was enjoying a ham sandwich for lunch.

“Jon…our baby can fly.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘our baby can fly’!”

“Yes. I heard you. Doesn’t look like it.” Jonathan gestured to the struggling toddler, still in his mother’s arms.

“He was hanging from his ceiling fan and when I told him to get down he just floated into my arms.”

“Well.” Martha expected her husband to say more, but he didn’t.

“Well what?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never encountered a flying baby before.”

“I’m not a baby.” Clark entered the conversation with indignity on his face. “Can I go play?”

Martha looked at Jonathan and he looked back. Eventually he turned to Clark. “Yes. But stay on the ground and inside, ok? No…” he searched for the right way to explain things to a child “…floating. Understand?”

Clark looked at him curiously for a second before he nodded and twisted out of Martha’s arms. He scampered off towards the playroom.

“So…our boy can fly. Or float, at least. That’s new.”

“Jon…what is he?” Martha, for the first time, appeared to be frightened.

“Our son, Ma.” Jonathan reached out to hold her hands. “No matter what else, he is our son. We always knew he was different. Now I guess we find out just how different he is. After all, he did come from somewhere else.” Jonathan gestured towards the ceiling, indicating the heavens. Then he paused. He remembered the capsule little Clark had arrived in.

“I wonder if there is anything in his basket.”

It took Martha a second to understand what he meant. “The capsule? Didn’t you say there wasn’t anything inside?”

Jonathan shrugged. “There was nothing inside where he was, but I never really looked anywhere else. I didn’t even open it myself. The canopy lifted on its own when I got close. It must have been set to automatic or something. I wonder now if there isn’t anything anywhere else in the thing.” He gave a half smile. “Well, we better look I suppose.”

Martha nodded. “Bring Clark, will you?”

“Why?”

“Well, it occurs to me that the canopy reacted to you approaching that night, and it would make sense that was a general sort of, I don’t know, trigger, to ensure the boy’s safety. Look, I don’t know, but whoever could build and launch that thing must have been smart and must have known about earth before they sent their child here. That’s what I figure. You wouldn’t just send your child off haphazard like. No mother would, without ensuring his safety.”

“Yeah…but what does that have to do with Clark?”

“Well, if there is any sort of information, about Clark or his parents or whoever sent it, doesn’t it make sense that it would only react to him? Maybe to keep it information secret until he needs to know it.”

Jonathan smiled. He loved that he married smarter. And prettier. “Sounds good to me. Clark! Come here!”

With a pounding of little feet, Clark ran into the kitchen and threw himself at his father’s leg. He clamped on and smiled, looking up.

“We are going on a little adventure. Your mom and I have something to show you.”

“A present?” Clark grinned, excited now.

“Sort of.”

The family headed towards the barn, little Clark suspended between his parents holding on to each by a hand. He would stand still while they strode forwards, then jump to land just ahead of them. Once in the barn, Jonathan led the way to a corner behind some old, rusted equipment. There he shoved a hay bale out of the way, revealing a cross patterned metal door. Grasping the handle, Jon heaved, opening the door. There was a quick rush of air as that beneath equalized with that above. A light flickered on, showing a ladder leading downwards.

“Ok, careful now.”

Jonathan descended first, then Clark, eagerly, but with halting steps as he slowly assessed each step before reaching with his foot. Martha came last. At the bottom of the ladder they turned, and saw a large, mostly dark room. Off to the side was an egg shaped object underneath a dusty blue tarp. Jonathan grabbed an edge of the tarp, and pulled it. It slid off the object, revealing Clark’s capsule, still as shiny as the day it crash landed.

“Wow.” Clark was wide eyed. He toddled towards it, reaching out a hand to touch it. As soon as he got within a foot, the capsule seemed to shimmer, and then, from nowhere, there stood a tall man, with a rugged white beard, long white hair, dressed in blue with a long, red robe. He spoke, in deep rich tones.

“Welcome, my son, Kal-El.”

Clark ran back to his mother, hiding in her dress, peaking out at the man. The man turned and assessed Jonathan and Martha.

“Identify.” Was all he said.

Martha looked at Jonathan, who himself seemed puzzled.

“Identify.” The man said again.

Jonathan looked at his wife. “I don’t think he is real. I think he is a hologram or something. A projection.”

At that, the man spoke. “I am a representation of Jor-El, of Krypton. I am father to Kal-El. Identify.”

Martha smirked. “I am Martha, of Smallville, and this is Jonathan. We are parents to Kal-El.”

The hologram man turned to her. “Martha of Smallville and Jonathan, I thank you for protecting my child. His mother and I were forced to send him into exile to save his life at the destruction of his home planet of Krypton. What you see here is how I appeared at Kal-El’s birth. I am an interactive information module. Over time, I am to inform Kal-El of his home world, of his nature, and of his history. Stored within this capsule is all the information Kal-El requires. It is time locked, so that when he is of age, he will know what he is meant to understand.”

Martha absorbed all of this. “But…he can fly. Is there information for us?”

The hologram Jor-El went silent and stared off absently. “Searching.”

After a moment he turned back to Martha. “It is suggested by the ancient scholars that at one time, when Krypton’s sun was yellow, it imbued the power of flight to all Kryptonians. Considered by many modern scientists to be mere myth, it appears my calculations were indeed correct. Earth’s sun has unlocked long dormant genetic abilities within Kal-El.”

Jonathan finally spoke up, but to Martha. “I guess it is some sort of computer. We ask it questions and it answers.”

Martha snorted. “Obviously.”

Overhearing, the hologram Jor-El spoke. “My interactions are limited. Please state a clear question.”

Clark stepped forward. “My name is Clark Kent!”

Jor-El looked down at him. “That is your earth name, and it serves you well. Your true name is Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara. You are from Krypton. You are the destiny of an entire planet, of an entire people. Return when you are of eight years and I will tell you more.”

The hologram of Jor-El abruptly vanished. Jonathan turned to go, but Martha called out. “Wait, what’s that!?”

The side of the capsule brightened, and a small door slid away. Inside was a leather bound book. Jonathan approached slowly and retrieved the book. The door slid back into place, once again presenting a smooth surface.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What is it?” Martha came to see for herself. Jonathan was laughing softly. “I guess babies do come with instruction books!”

On the cover of the book it said, in large, friendly letters:

RAISING A CHILD OF KRYPTON, TO THE CARETAKERS OF KAL-EL.

Martha suddenly turned. “Clark! Stop!” Eschewing the ladder, little Clark was floating up to the barn, content to propel himself by pushing down on the ladder rungs. Martha caught up to him rather quickly and swatted his butt.

“No flying!”

League of Justice 0.8: “What Dreams May Come”

Smallville, Kansas

The spacecraft was easy enough to hide. Jonathan Kent merely dug a bunker beneath the barn, and concealed the capsule within. But a baby was harder to contain. Martha Kent was determined to keep the child, and wouldn’t hear of any other strategy.

“What does a space baby eat?” She wondered aloud. She was rocking him, that much was easy enough to determine as he had been placed in his capsule naked. She had since wrapped him in a red blanket she found in the hall closet. Surprisingly the child wasn’t crying. He was staring around curiously, and Martha was struck with the feeling that he was more aware than any other babe she had been around. His age was hard to determine. His size made him to be a few weeks old, but his manner was that of an older baby. He had a handsome, chubby face, and thick black hair.

“Well, same as any other baby, I suppose. Give em milk, don’t you?” Jonathan was practical, as ever. That the baby had apparently come from outer space either didn’t register or didn’t perturb him in the least. Martha snorted from the rocking chair. “You do if you have mother’s milk. I guess we need some formula. Look in the cupboard. I think Mary left some the last time she was here.” Mary was Martha’s older sister who had six children of her own. They hadn’t visited in a few months, but when she had she was bouncing a fat new addition to the family. Martha walked into the kitchen, cradling the baby. Jonathan had found the formula, a powdered blend, and was mixing it according to the directions. “Oh! Goodness!” Martha exclaimed. “We don’t have a bottle.” “Yes we do.” Jonathan replied calmly. He walked over the corner and lifted a bottle out of a tattered cardboard box that was sitting by the door. “Just bought them. I was thinking of breeding a few calves this fall, maybe starting a herd.” The bottle was a little larger than the typical human infant bottle, but it would serve.

Martha sat back down, and introduced the bottle to the baby. Without hesitation he started sucking and drinking the milk with gusto. “Well, he certainly seems hungry. What did you do with his spaceship?” “I threw a tarp over it for now. What do you think, should we contact the government? Do you suppose they saw this thing come down?” Martha was cooing at her new charge, and didn’t answer right away.

“Well, I figure if they knew it had come down, they would be here by now to check it out.” “Maybe.” “And all they will do is take him away and study him. I doubt whoever placed him in that thing and sent him our way meant for him to live in a lab like a mouse and be studied. He needs a family.”

It was Jonathan’s turn to be quiet awhile. The baby had finished his milk and Martha was burping him against her shoulder. Jonathan stared into the child’s eyes for a moment. Then, in a moment, he came to a decision. He knew the right thing to do, and he knew what he had to do, and there was no contest between the two.

“How are we going to explain a baby? People tend to notice when you ain’t been pregnant and then have a baby.”

Martha stood up, love and joy shining from her eyes. Hiding an alien baby was not something done lightly, and her husband had done it for her. She blinked back tears and she bounced the babe in a rhythmic whole body bounce and thought. Jonathan was amazed at how nurturing was something women seemed to know instinctively. He was of course forgetting about the many children that Martha had practically raised, being the caregiver of the community that she was.

“We found him on our doorstep, didn’t we? My daddy always did say that honesty was the best policy. He just came in a big, shiny basket from out beyond the stars. But we can leave out that last bit. I never saw the need for total honesty.” Martha said this with a smirk and twinkle in her eye. It was Jonathan’s turn to feel a swell of love. “Works for me,” he said. “What are you going to do with the big, shiny basket?” Martha asked. Jonathan shrugged. “Always been meaning to dig a bunker under the barn for an additional tornado shelter. No time like the present, my dad always said.”

The baby had fallen asleep in Martha’s arms. She sat down again in the rocker and glided gently back and forth.

“What do we call him?” She whispered.

“You know, I’ve always liked your maiden name. It’s suitable for a boy, isn’t it? And then we give him our name.”

Martha patted her new son on the back.

“Welcome to earth, Clark Kent.”

All of Martha’s dreams came true, in an instant, when a mysterious capsule crashed to earth from the heavens.

League of Justice #0.6: “That Flesh Is Heir To”

Near Smallville, Kansas

Thursday, August 12th

The hot summer night would have been oppressive were it not for the sweeping breezes that swooshed back and forth across the prairies. Kansas was beautiful in the summer: stalks of corn growing to the sky, thousands of stars lighting that sky at deep midnight when the summer sun finally set. The grass grew green under the summer rains, and the dirt turned deep red, rich with clay. One could smell the living earth and hear the countless souls that lived on the prairie: the endless cricks of crickets, the racketing of cicadas on the trees, the singing of the birds, the buzz of lazy flies.

Martha Kent relaxed on the porch of the Kent house, a low modest farmhouse rising out of a Kansas plain. Rocking back and forth in her rocking chair, she sipped on a lemonade, the glass slick with rivulets of sweat as the cool glass condensed the humid air around it. From inside she could hear the gentle clinking of dishes as her husband Jonathan cleaned up from dinner. The steak from last fall’s slaughter was tender and juicy, the corn from last harvest rich, and the greens from the spring garden were crisp. Martha loved eating what Kansas gave her, and what she and her husband had cultivated from Kansas’ bosom. If ever there was a woman of the earth, of simple things, it was Martha Kent.

She had loved her husband from the moment she saw him, an awkward gangly teenager just entering the ninth grade at Smallville High School. He and his family had moved from Metropolis, the midwest’s bustling city. Larger than New York and Gotham, the East Coast’s metropolitan jewels, Metropolis was a shining example of the American dream and prosperity. But things hadn’t worked out so well for the Kent family, and they moved into the country seeking a harder, but more rewarding, life. For his part, Johnny Kent noticed Martha Clark almost immediately: a wispy, but hard prairie girl. Lovely, but not beautiful, graceful, but not delicate. However it took a few years before his big city swagger turned into a country lope. John worked his way through almost every cheerleader and prom princess at the school before his city charms failed him completely. When he came back down to earth, Martha was there, as always, waiting. The two were passionate lovers throughout their final year of high school and married soon after graduation.

Jonathan and Martha moved onto the Clark family farm, at that point overgrown with weeds and neglect as her grandfather could no longer till the large fields. The newlyweds brought a breath of fresh air and blew off the dust of the plains. Soon the fences were mended, the barn painted, and new crops growing. Martha envisioned children, a large family, and a happy ever after. She got everything but the children.

Now nearing her 50s, Martha was content. She and Jonathan had lived a full life, and she loved only him more than Kansas herself. She missed the opportunity to raise her own children, but she became a surrogate mother in Smallville. Active in the community, at the schools, and in church, she always seemed to attract the kids that others didn’t know how to deal with. With the gentle love and persistent care of a farmer, she watered and tended those children until they grew into well-adjusted adults. Living on the plains was a hard life in more ways than one, but the honest labor and consistent love of the Kents softened many a growing heart.

The screen door creaked open and slammed shut behind Jonathan as he joined his wife on the porch. Leaning against the railing, back to the darkening fields, he sighed. He turned his head into the breeze and breathed deep.

“Kitchen’s all cleaned up.” He said just for something to say. That much was obvious.

Martha smiled. “Thank you, dear. It was nice to get off my feet.” John didn’t smile, but his eyes twinkled. To Martha it was the same.

“Beautiful evening.” He said, again to break the air. Martha giggled.

“I know it’s a nice evening. I’m out here enjoying it.” She teased. John wasn’t much for conversation, but he tried and that made Martha feel loved. She set her glass down, now mostly empty, and stood up. In a stride she was in John’s embrace. She relaxed into his chest, and stared off into the corn. As one, they breathed the warm Kansas air. There was no longer any need of conversation. John was relieved, as he had run out of things to say, and Martha was glad to communicate with love instead of awkward words. Some languages said things no words could convey.

*BOOM*

*crack*

Something flashed brightly in the sky before streaking behind the barn. Seconds later a fireball snapped into the blackness and a rumble shook the ground.

“What the hell?” John was already off the porch, running for the barn. A warm glow warned of fire. Martha went the other way, for the farm truck. She opened the door, jumped in, and twisted the spoon. The truck was old and beat to hell. Many years ago the key had broken off in the lock, and rather than fix it, Jonathan had welded an old spoon onto the ignition. The engine was worn, but it roared to life. Martha threw it in gear and sped off towards the glowing night.

She got there just as Jonathan was slapping out the last of the embers with an old blanket. Martha pulled a fire extinguisher from the truck bed and hosed down the grass, just to be sure. Fires weren’t anything to play with on an open field of dry grass and young corn. So intent was she with the putting the fire out, she failed to notice the shining capsule half buried in the dirt twenty yards away until she was returning the fire extinguisher to the truck.

“John: what is that?” Her voice was matter of fact. Being a solid woman of the earth, even the wildly unexpected didn’t usually faze her all that much. What John said next certainly fazed her.

“I don’t know. But there’s a baby inside.”