The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody . No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
*****
It had been just over two years since the chorus had first echoed through the canyons of the city. Twenty-six months during which the simple four sentence litany had become a source of unabashed pride to the people of Metropolis.
"Look, up in the sky," someone would shout as the rush of the wind caught their attention.
"It's a bird," another would add as he looked upward in the direction in the direction the first man had indicated.
"It's a plane," a woman would loudly add, knowing full well that it wasn't.
"It's Superman!" numerous voices would finally chime in, their voices reflecting the admiration they had for Metropolis's premiere resident as he swept over their heads.
A thousand sets of eyes looked skyward as the red and blue-garbed young man soared between the tall buildings of Bessolo Boulevard. Jet black hair and a flowing red cape flared in the wind as the Metropolis Marvel raced across his adopted city. The speed of his flight carried him quickly out of view. Before his admirer's chant could totally fade from their ears, he was already miles away and dropping out of the sky.
With a casual ease, the six foot three hero set his two hundred and twenty-five pound frame down on the center of Star Lab's helicopter pad. His cape draped over his powerful shoulders as the Man of Steel focused on the white-coated woman who had been awaiting his arrival.
"Good afternoon, Doctor Hamilton," Superman said with a broad smile as he stepped off the pad and walked toward the redhead.
"Good afternoon, Superman," the thirty-eight year old said as she met him halfway and extended her hand, "I'm so glad you could stop by and examine our find. I know how valuable your time must be."
"I'm glad to do it, Doctor," Superman replied as he shook her hand, "Especially if the artifact you've discovered does turn out to be Kryptonian in origin."
"Well, that's what we're hoping you can tell us," Phyllis Hamilton said as she guided him to the Institute's side entrance, "and please, call me, Phyllis."
As Superman walked beside the shorter woman, his enhanced senses couldn't help but make him aware of the effect his presence was having on her. It was an effect he had grown quite used to in his life. Their brief physical contact during their handshake told him that Phyllis's body temperature had risen almost a degree, along with an increase in both her heartbeat and respiration. Regardless of the circumstances, it was an almost involuntary response from most women.
"You said in your call to Mr. Kent that the artifact didn't show any sigh of Kryptonite radiation?" Superman asked as they entered the building and passed through a security checkpoint.
"That's what's been puzzling us," Phyllis said as she led Superman through the maze of corridors. "Almost every previous Kryptonian artifact has shown at least trace amounts. It's almost as if, if it is Kryptonian in origin, it left the planet before it's destruction. At least that's the theory some of us have come up with."
"Well, let's see of I can settle the matter," Superman said as they stepped through a final checkpoint and into the lab filled with Doctor Hamilton's associates.
Spotting their distinguished visitor, the small crowd quickly parted to give him a clear path to their prize. Despite their assurances that there was no trace of radiation, the Last Son of Krypton hesitated slightly before approaching it. When he did, Superman's first impression was that it was indeed a relic of his long dead world.
"Well, Superman?" one of the other scientists asked.
"Give him a chance, Donald," Phyllis said as Superman effortlessly picked up the large metal fragment from the table and examined it more closely.
His blue eyes focused on the metal, examining it on a level equaled only by the most advanced equipment. The sub-atomic structure did indeed match that of the rocket that had brought him to Earth some two and a half decades before. The inscriptions on the outside also matched what he had learned of his native language. Deep within his mind, he translated the half erased words into English. The result surprised even him.
"It's part of a spacecraft," Superman finally said. "A ship equivalent to the space shuttle, at least in function."
"And it's Kryptonian?" the scientist repeated his question.
"Yes, definitely Kryptonian," Superman said, making the scientist's face light up. "She must've been in space when the end came."
"Did the ship have a name?" Phyllis asked out of curiosity, not really expecting an answer.
"Yuda," Superman answered with an unaccustomed tremor in his voice, "named after one of the goddesses of ancient Krypton, also one of her moons."
"What must it have been like to have flown her," another of the group asked, "to have been on her at the end ... to watch as your world died beneath you."
"Martin!" Phyllis snapped at her young colleague, thinking the statement to be highly insensitive of their guest's feelings, seeing that it had been his Homeworld as well. "Superman, I'm sorry, that was ..."
But the Man Of Tomorrow was already gone.
-=-=-=-
Once more high above the city, the fragment of the long destroyed space shuttle dominated Superman's mind. Just the discovery of the artifact would've interested him, but to have it been the Yuda totally shook him to the core.
His mind drifted back, sorting out memories most precious. Recollections of a world that, if fate had been more kind, might've been his. A life filled with people he had loved, and who had loved him in return. Loved him enough to have sacrificed all they had to give him a second chance.
Ever since his emergence as a super hero in his mid-teens, the world had known the story of his origins. Of how his father, Jor-El, one of the greatest young minds of his age, had discovered the impending death of their world. A discovery that Krypton's ruling Science Council had refused to accept. Leaving the young scientist to labor alone to try and save his family.
In the end, he had simply run out of time. On the night that Krypton died, the full sized spacecraft with his experimental stardrive was only half completed. All he had was an unused test drone, fully functional but with only room for one. The decision for Jor-El and his wife was simple - their son would survive.
Yes, almost anyone who heard of Superman had also heard of Jor-El. A much fewer number, however, had heard of Lara Lor-Van. And that was their loss. A remarkable student and athlete in her school years, Lara had also been one of Krypton's first astronauts. A field of scientific endeavor that had come late to that ancient culture. Prior to her marriage to Jor-El and the birth of their son, Lara had been the commander of one of the first space shuttles. A ship she had named, Yuda.
"Mother," Kal-El of Krypton thought as he remembered the face of the woman who had placed him in the escape rocket and sacrificed her dreams in the hope that he might find his own.
-=-=-=-
The image of the woman who set the example by which he would judge all others remained in his mind until, faster than the human eye could follow, the Man of Steel entered the Daily Planet building through the open window of a little used storeroom. A quick flash of his x-ray vision seconds before had made sure that the room was indeed empty.
A familiar transformation took place as Superman once more assumed the identity that he had lived most of his life under. That of Clark Kent, the son of Jonathan and Martha who had rescued and then raised him as their own when his lifecraft crashed outside of Smallville, Kansas. Aside from the camouflaging effects of a non-descript blue business suit, the conversion included a change of posture along with a slight voice alteration. The final touch was a pair of ordinary glasses that gave new meaning to the phrase, to hide in plain sight.
Stepping into the newsroom, Clark was greeted by a half dozen good afternoons, all of which he dutifully returned. Sitting down at his desk, he took a moment to scan his terminal for any of the keyword news alerts he had programmed into it. Thankfully, the world seemed to be quiet during his all day absence.