A New Horizon
Superman landed without a sound on the front yard of a very familiar house. He was dressed in his standard uniform, so he had come to think of his costume. Being raised as Clark Kent, he preferred that name to his birth name of Kal-El, preferred normal clothes to his kryptonian suits. But the speed and silence of flying required the non-terrestrial look of his assumed identity. So he came to see his old friend dressed in full superman regalia. Before he'd even gotten to the front door, Jeremiah and his wife Eliza walked out of the house to greet him.
“It's been way too long my friend.” Jeremiah said with a warmth familiar to both of them.
“Jeremiah, can I talk with you a minute?”
“Kal-el of Krypton when have I ever, not wanted to talk with you?”
“Well to be perfectly frank this conversation will end with me asking you to come back to the DEO.” In an instant Jeremiah's warmth hardened.“And what exactly makes you think I'll go with you? I left that place for a reason and they think I'm dead. Which, in case you didn't realize it is the only reason I can stay gone.” It was a sign of the tremendous respect and friendship the two shared that Jeremiah's voice remained calm and firm while expressing his disdain.
“ 'They think you're dead'. Superman repeated, his tone ringing with a thoughtfulness that surprised his friend. “An ironically appropriate choice of words.”
“Okay, you have my attention.”
“I'm not here for the DEO, or even because of them. As an entity I don't understand them. I'm here because the new director of the DEO and one of their former alien prisoners seriously need to hear from you. They are the only people I wasn't raised with that know who I am and they know you. I'm finding myself feeling a little stupid about her. I have been listening to her talk about her hero, a former agent of the DEO for almost six months and I never figured out it was you she was talking about. It wasn't until Mon-el of Daxam showed up that I saw the depth of her feelings about the place. And two weeks later I overheard her reminisce about the good-bad old days.” Kal-el took Jeremiah by the arm in a gentlemanly embrace, holding him enthralled to his next words. Jeremiah sensed the need behind his action and did not resist. “I'm here because J'onn J'onzz and Nikita think you're dead.”
“Eliza, take care of the girls...I have an old friend to visit.”
“You can get me to track them, you cannot get me to hurt them.” Nikita stated firmly, planting her feet solidly in place. “Director, I couldn't tell you if my people are pacifists but I AM one. In case you've forgotten there is no-thing you can do to get me not to be true to myself.”
“Have you any idea what we're facing here, what we're here for?”
“We are here to make contact and meet for the first time an alien you see as a threat.” Jeremiah Danvers said shortly. “Her role here is to find the man and talk to him, and help us know how to deal with him. Fighting him is not in her job description.”
“True enough, but this creature is the farthest thing from being a man you can imagine. He's a martian, a monster from your worst nightmares.”
'heard that one before'. Jeremiah thought to himself, though he said nothing of the kind.
“I never thought I'd say this,” Nikita began. “but...you have a point. Even so, if I never knowingly hurt YOU Hank, what makes you think I'll sit by while you hurt a complete stranger?”
“You don't have to watch. But you do have to find him for me. That is you're role here after all.”
“I'm doing it!” Nikita cried out with a passion she did not usually display. “I'm here to do a job, to help you succeed. Efficiency is better than its opposite and you need someone like me when you meet those you refer to as 'creeps'. The fact that I haven't moved from this spot should tell you something.”
Jeremiah smiled as he watched realization spread over the director's face. The quarry they'd been hunting came out of the brush and tackled the man named Hank Henshaw. The director lay stunned on the ground. The alien was only slightly taller than Jeremiah himself with lime-green skin and black body armor.
Jeremiah watched the stranger, keeping his hands visible and still. The alien walked up to Jeremiah, silently and steadily. “Please wait.” Nikita whispered urgently. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but please hear me out. My name is Nikita, my people are low-level empaths; a skill director Henshaw used to his advantage. I tracked you here. I didn't have a choice and I will do what I can to keep you safe, and undo whatever damage I have caused. Jeremiah is no threat to you and, despite the uniform, is no more a willing part of this than I am. Tie his hands if it makes sense, if you need to be certain he cannot fight you but Please don't hurt him.”
“Is this true?” The alien spoke, in a gravelly voice, his eyes focused on the man in front of him.
Jeremiah's voice was soft but steady. “I work for an agency called the DEO. Our job is to protect Earth from alien threats. Hank Henshaw was my immediate superior...and a blind fool. I swear I would not hurt a man, woman or child who was no threat, who wasn't trying to hurt others. And the DEO honestly believed you were a threat.”
“Get out of here.” The alien said, to Nikita. “I want nothing from you. You have no reason to listen to them anymore. So, don't.”
“If you take Jeremiah with you,I'm coming too.” Nikita said firmly. “He and I have each-other's backs. Henshaw brought the two of us with him because he saw how unswervingly, almost recklessly we defend each-other. To be clear, I was not assigned to protect him, I do so freely. I made my choice almost seven months ago now: I will not leave his side.”
“Nikita I...” Jeremiah began shakily.
“You have great regard for your...caretakers, here.”
“I have great regard for all sentient life and so does he.” Nikita slowed her speech down and looked sidelong at her friend. “My being an empath is what makes me a good field asset; not that I now general patterns of individual races but that I can sense their intent and what comes naturally, instinctively to them. Whatever he,” she gestured to the alien “thinks of us is, well, not something I could find out if I wanted to. But regardless, he is closer to being a protector than an assassin. We are safe with him.”
“You sound as if this surprises you?” The man said coolly.
“Henshaw said you were a martian. The only martian I ever met, the only kind I ever heard of did not look or act very much like you...AT ALL.”
“He must have been a white.” The alien said, with only the slightest hint of sorrow in his voice.
“And your people—We should get out of here.” Jeremiah looked up sharply. “There was a second Thera...support team. More for protecting us than anything to do with our...Target. We should find some deeper cover. After this creep, this, I'm actually going to use the word Kreec-ta gives up the chase, we can each leave all of this behind.”
“Do I want to know what that means?” Jeremiah inquired.
“I basically just called our boss an ignorant, arrogant asshole.”
“You'll get no argument from me.” Jeremiah said flatly. He walked up to the martian and said his peace. “Nikita trusts you. If for no other reason than that, so do I. I'm Jeremiah Danvers, you can consider me a friend.” He extended his right hand. “It's a greeting, and a sign of trust.” He explained simply.
“I am...J'onn J'onzz.” The warrior replied as he accepted the handshake.
Twenty minutes later Nikita woke up in a strange house with a stranger host. Jeremiah Danvers was no where to be found. And Hank Henshaw, as she knew him, was on his way to retrieve her.
Around 3 pm in the afternoon Jeremiah Danvers rested comfortably in the arms of Superman. Clark was holding him loosely but firmly as they moved through the air toward DEO headquarters. “Are you alright?”
“I never thought I'd be back here again. I'm not sure what to expect.”
“There's nothing I could say that could sufficiently prepare you for this place, so I won't even try.” Kal replied. “If I'm going to help at all I should say that J'onn will probably be the first person you see and you will be welcomed here by him; he's director now.”
“Okay an alien in charge of the DEO when did that happen. More accurately: how?”
“Martians are shape-shifters...he looks human now.”
“That would explain it.”
They touched down on the balcony on the next to highest floor. They clearly were not expected. A young agent, the equivalent in experience to a Air Force lieutenant walked up with his hand on his gun. A dark haired, pale-faced young man standing beside him simply smiled and waved with his left hand. “Superman, good to see you again. Who's your friend?”
“Winn, find director J'onzz have him meet us in the conference room.”
“That won't be necessary.” Came the smooth calm voice that resonated from a man known to most as Director J'onn J'onzz. “I think I...” His gaze met that of Jeremiah Danvers. J'onn did not say anything more for several seconds; neither did anyone else.
“J'onn, is that you?” Jeremiah finally breathed.
“I think we need to go up to the conference room. We have A-Lot to talk about.”
Kal-el, J'onn J'onzz Nikita and Jeremiah Danvers all gathered in the situation room overlooking the main operations center of the building. For a moment no one said anything.
“Someone should say something before even Kal ages.” Nikita prompted.
“Jeremiah...I never thought I'd see you again...I thought you were dead.”
“Apparently you're a little too good at wearing his skin. I let people think I died...so Hank Henshaw wouldn't come after me. I have an apology to make you, Nikita...not sure how to start.”
“For believing I was dead? We're both guilty on that one.”
“For assuming you were better off believing I was dead. For assuming you were out there alone and wandering, better off than you would be with me...for never telling anyone you existed.”
“If you didn't know I was here why come back?” Understanding flickered across her face. “Clark overheard the two of us talking and brought you back here to clear things up. You didn't know where I was until today...and you thought Henshaw was still in charge of this place.”
“I have to admit I'm more than a little confused right now.” J'onn said blankly.
“No less than I am about all this.” Superman quipped.
“I experienced the best and worst of humanity for 11 months the first time I was here.” Nikita said automatically, almost mechanically. “Both of them were with me when I met you, J'onn in the mountains that day. I learned all I needed to know about you to trust you as soon as I saw you shake hands. I knew you were the one picking me up from Clark's house, because you weren't being an ignorant arrogant asshole and still recognized Jeremiah's name. I've never met anyone on Earth like Jeremiah before...no one else who was born here. And now that explanations and easily-remedied mistakes are cleared up, can we get to the actual reunion part? I also never thought I'd see you again...I never thought get a chance to talk with you both at the same time...we need to find a patio bar and a place that serves cuba libre's.”
“I'm sorry, what?” Kal-el said blankly.
J'onn J'onzz stepped up. “Kal, Jeremiah, Nikita and I saved each-other from Hank Henshaw. That's actually how any of us met, including you and her. Until now at least some of us thought the others died that night. THIS meeting of old friends deserves some alcohol.”
“You do realize I can't get drunk.”
“You realize I would never try to get myself drunk?”
“And if I become ill, I won't have far to go.”
“You haven't the authority to do this.” Kal-el of Krypton told me curtly, after I unlocked the cell.
“Actually, I do. You don't have the authority to stop me.”
“Pardon?”
“Yeah, even I'm confused.” Mon-el of Daxam said mildly.
“Kal, you are a great ally of the DEO and you are our friend. But you are not a DEO agent, not a part of the organization. The first thing J'onn did for me when I came back was to make me an agent of the DEO. And it actually goes beyond that. When it comes to regulation, I am not expected to comply, J'onn would never do that to me. Winn is his closest compatriot, they understand each-other the best. I am his lefftenant; I have his trust. I actually am allowed to make these decisions. I will not let someone get put in prison until after they have been convicted of a crime or an act of violence. Blame the man who's face J'onn is wearing for that one!” I turned back to the man who still stood in his cell. “I can't let you leave the DEO, but there is no reason on the face of this planet for you to stay here. We're going to my compartments.”
“They know you're an alien?” Mon-el said to me as we walked the corridor.
“I spent 11 months here as an enemy alien. I'm not using an image-inducer or anything, like you I actually look like this. But the people who were in charge before...because I couldn't answer their questions they called me a liar. Because I never told anyone I was an alien they assumed I had a nefarious reason to conceal who and what I am...well with one exception anyway. They have all my files for my question and answer sessions back then. But I see no reason to hide. What Kal thinks of you is because what planet he's from and what planet your from. It has literally NOTHING to do with you not being from Earth. Way back when I lived by the philosophy that if someone trust the real you keep them close...and how can they accept who you really are if you don't tell them? Or more importantly, how can I know who my friends are and who my enemies are if I never speak up, never tell them who I am. The people here are the first people I've met in 35 years who accept me. People who need to know WHO I am and like me AS I am. The what doesn't matter to them. Sorry, I have a tendency to pontificate.”
“Sounds like you haven't had a chance to talk about all this in a while.”
“I live it every day, openly and quietly. It's been a while since I've talked *about my life instead of just living it. Also I'm acting under the assumption that you are fairly newly come to our shores. Any aliens I know have lived here for years.” He looked at me a little lopsidedly. “I'm giving a first impressions of Earth rather than showing you that not all people are alike. I'm better at it.” I typed '4169873' into the keypad of my room and ushered him inside. “And I can see you have a question on the tip of your mental tongue. Ask it.”
“J'onn is your director, you said he was wearing another persons face. Will you explain?”
“Okay you're either nobility or a diplomat and seeing how completely blunt and unrestrained you're being, I'm going with the former. To answer your question, my supervising officer as I refer to him was a man named Hank Henshaw. He took me and another DEO agent to track down a dangerous alien. In his words a 'creature, a monster, the most powerful man in the world, always excepting Kryptonians cause the powers they have on our planet'. Believe me hearing Henshaw call an alien a 'monster' was almost laughably ironic. That alien turned out to be a shape-shifter named J'onn J'onzz. Who upon the death of director Henshaw assumed his identity in order to reform the DEO into what it is today...instead of what it was like when I first got picked up.”
“So when you see something that reminds you of what this place used to be...”
“I actually have the authority to stop it. I'm sensitive when I see it happening again, but I also see it quicker. J'onn knows what 'we' tend to be like and what the DEO will fall into if we don't keep ourselves circumspect...from living out in the world so long...He's 309 years old. Now are you more a red wine person or a flavored vodka person...those are the alcohol's keep around.”
“Flavored vodka...I think.” Mon-el said with a nervous chuckle.
“Vodka's a mild spirit with no flavor of its own most of the time. Mixed with soda or juice it makes a good mixed drink. Wine is milder, sweeter and more like an aperitif...softer on the stomach and the liver.”
“Flavored vodka then.”
“Good choice.”
After a minute or two Nikita handed Mon-el a vodka-lime-soda' and asked him to take a seat.
“Do you mind if I ask, what planet are you from?”
“I'm Xavallen. My home planet is 50 miles past nowhere. While I lived in one of our larger cities I never saw much of the place. Now in Atridian culture, that's the name of a continent and my homeland, we are acknowledged as intelligent, mature and thoughtful people around the age of 16. But we are not accepted as self-determinate, individuals, independent of our families for another 8 years. Family is everything to our people, and until legal adulthood upon our 24th birthday party we are bound TO our parents' wishes and worldviews to the extent that if my mom is okay with me doing something completely nuts, no one questions my decision. If she objects to or won't allow something, I would ne-ver consider it. Anything from getting drunk one night to joining a peaceful protest. I was 22 years old when I 'wanted to see what else was out there'. What that really means is...”
“You ran away from home.”Winn Schott said from the doorway. “I'm sorry, I wanted to see if you were alright. And to meet our newest alien guest.” He reached out to shake Mon-el's hand. “Hi, my name is Winn Schott; it's a pleasure to meet you.”
“My name is Mon-el.” the stranger said awkwardly. “I'm sorry after meeting your resident superhero, I didn't expect a warm welcome.”
“Did...Superman doesn't like him?” Winn stammered.
Nikita chuckled. “Krypton and Daxam? Think Sparta and Athens in ancient times. Or maybe more accurately, France and England as described in the opening lies of Henry the Fifth?” Mon-el looked confused but said nothing. Nikita looked mildly embarrassed and explained.“ 'Two mighty monarchies whose very shores look pale with envy at each-other's happiness'. The other comparison is of two city-states in Greece whose hatred for each-other lasted generations, but fortunately were not directly neighbors.”
“Yeah, then definitely the Henry the Fifth one.” Mon-el said blandly. “We're a lot alike biologically but their aristocrats and philanthropists while we basically rule over our people by telling them how screwed they would be without us.”
“That is...some next level honesty right there.” Winn observed.
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