Banner by Summerstar882
Thanks again to AV for Beta-ing.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Chapter 14
Clark grimaced as he funneled a bottle of foul-smelling, no-name whiskey into an empty Glenfiddich bottle. He’d be doing the same to Johnnie Walker soon and marking each with a red sticker. These were for later in the night at Moxie’s grand reopening when, apparently, people were too bombed to know better.
Just one of many sneaky, underhanded, fraudulent things he was sick of having to do around here. The sooner Irving Clemp disappeared, the better. He didn’t care about the story, the case, or the club. He just wanted this over.
Or maybe that was just because he had a date.
He actually did care about all of those things too much… Well, maybe not the club.
He really did want to come out of this with everything -- Clark could keep the police and Perry White happy while Superman keeps the world and his own hide safe. Those were some lofty and admirable goals.
So it was kind of sad that, at the moment, he’d settle for this day and whatever it entailed being over so at least one of those identities gets to go on a date.
Their first date. No matter which lifetime he looked at, this was the first date – the first time they went somewhere together with no confusion about what it meant.
It was the last thing he should be thinking of right now, but it was the only thing he’d actively looked forward to in… he couldn’t even think how long. The timing was horrible and it wasn’t in the plan, but somewhere between kissing her and arguing with her, this date had been agreed on.
Somewhere between six pm and midnight, barring a catastrophic event (and don’t think she didn’t grill him on that condition), Clark Kent and Lois Lane would go their first date. And he wanted to be there.
The only thing in his way was this day and having almost no idea what it would bring.
Jones was about as forthcoming and crystal clear as he’d been the first times they met, as in not at all. All Clark knew was that he was going to assess the situation today, see how best to “achieve all primary objectives.” Those included clearing that room, getting Desaad and Goodness off this planet, and, after a fair amount of arguing, Jones had agreed that the police might be graciously allowed to nab Bruno and company somewhere in there.
Had John done it already? Phased in and out of that lead room with armfuls of loot? Clark rather doubted it. If he had, Bruno would have more to grouse about than the quality of the crowd at Friday’s grand re-opening.
Clark re-focused his hearing, trying to ignore the drills and clattering between him and the corner table where Bruno and Rocco sat.
“…nobody this time. Been turned down right and left.”
“Eh, it’ll be fine, Boss.”
“How? We got nothin but the dregs. That little indoor shower knocked us down to small business owners and CFOs? What’s the good of having middle management in your pocket?”
“Better than nothing. We just gotta make sure everything goes smoothly this time. Maybe we should make sure our new friends are on the premises this time.”
Bruno grunted. “You’re the one who’s been whinin about how you don’t wanna deal with them.”
“Sure. But I bet that little rainstorm wouldn’a stopped nothing if we had them around to keep everyone in their seats. Don’t they got ways?”
Bruno looked up as if surprised, then glared at him. “What? You think you’re smart now? Is that it? Do I need to remind you who’s…”
“Staring off into space?”
Clark flinched and covered his ears as he turned to see Turpin, leaning against the bar. “No.” You see, Dan, I’m trying to use my superhearing to do a hell of a lot more than you realize. Also, I’m Superman and we are all in grave danger. Could you go away now?
Turpin scoffed. “Looked that way to me. So sorry to startle you into remembering why we’re here.”
Clark tried not to look annoyed, even if that was the general feeling of the day. He really didn’t have time for Turpin right now. He needed to hear what was going on, damn it!
“I know why we’re here,” he sighed, pushing down his irritation and remembering he was Clark as Clemp right now. How much of what he heard could Turpin know? “I’ve been keeping my ears open and this Granny Goodness might be...”
“Don’t bother about that,” Turpin said. “That’s not the focus.”
So much you know…
“Word has it Vincent Edge might be showing up to the next little shindig. Now, he might have gone legit, but don’t think he’s still not a nasty piece of work. We’re thinking this might be the new management they’re talking about and...” Turpin seemed to hesitate. “They might also be using some kind of… alien technology… maybe.”
Clark decided against smirking. At least Turpin was entertaining the notion, even if it was only because Superman had backed it up. Clark glanced past him to Bruno and Rocco, kind of wishing Turpin would hurry up and finish so he could get back to the real work. “Okay. Got it. Listen for any mention of Edge and…”
“No, no. I need you to talk to your little girlfriend.”
Clark blinked at him. “What does Lois have to do with…”
“The waitress, Kent,” Turpin hissed. “I want her to be his personal waitstaff if at all possible and get every word he says. He likes blowzy redheads.” Turpin shrugged. “I’d tell her myself, but I might as well give you something to do.”
Clark kept his face carefully bland as he nodded. “Okay. Anything else you want me to…”
“Just keep your ears open and leave the rest to us, okay?” Turpin tapped the bar and moved off. “That was the deal.”
Clark frowned after him. That damned annoyance just wouldn’t go away today. It seemed like everyone was treating him like some kid underfoot. He pushed it down and refocused on Bruno and Rocco, hoping Turpin hadn’t made him lose anything important. But they were still arguing.
“… and it’s the red. Red like blood. It’s gotta be.” Rocco was saying.
“Listen, I got it on good authority it’s the green,” Bruno growled.
“But green means go,” Rocco insisted. “They ain’t from the same place he is. They probably don’t know…”
“Oh, yeah? Wasn’t it you saying you want them here now? If they’re so stupid…”
“Hey, we’re in charge, aren’t we? They work for us. And it was your idea, wasn’t it? I thought it was a pretty good one, Boss.” Rocco shrugged and sipped at his whiskey.
Bruno threw up his hands. “What idea?”
“Our two guests of honor. I mean, imagine how people would pile in if we was to present a giant cardboard check with all the night’s proceeds to that sweet old lady that helps the orphans… and her, uh, assistant.”
Bruno held his glare for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s not such a bad idea… of mine,” he added, standing quickly. “I gotta call them.” He smiled. “And The Star.” He started out, then stopped. “Good thinkin, there.”
Rocco leaned back and lifted his glass. “Me? I was just following your lead.”
Clark stared at Rocco as Bruno rushed off, wondering when he got so shrewd. If someone was in control of that conversation, it wasn’t Bruno. Just when Jones had him convinced the lot of them were idiots, one of them had to go and…
Clark stiffened and went back to his bottles when Rocco glanced at him, almost as if he knew. No. He’d spent enough time around Rocco and Tiny to know that whatever they knew… it wasn’t much.
But then Rocco stood and moved straight to him. “Got nothin’ better to do than sit around talking?”
“I was just… adjusting the scotch,” Clark finished quickly. “You sure no one’ll notice the…”
“I don’t exactly care… Kal-El,” Rocco finished on a whisper as he took a stool. His eyes glowed a deep and steady red and Clark realized it wasn’t Rocco at all.
“I should have known,” he whispered. “Not like Rocco to be so… cagey. What did you do with him?”
“Nothing,” Jones said, still with Rocco’s gritty tones. “I found him having a nap in the storage room, picked what little there was of his brain, and decided to talk to the boss.”
“Shouldn’t you do some… mind thing? What if he wakes up and Bruno mentions this and…”
“I doubt anyone would be surprised if this one,” Jones gestured down the short and stocky frame he was wearing, “forgot something. Anyway, it was Mannheim’s idea. You heard.”
“So we’re waiting for the re-opening? That’s two more days,” Clark hissed. “You said you could phase in and out and…”
“The plan has changed. That mother box isn’t going anywhere until it takes them away. And I can’t seem to get those two in the open.” He tapped his fingers rapidly on the bar. “I’ve been to both of their establishments. It’s not like they have office hours. We need to get them here. I’ve planted the idea. But we need to be sure they’ll come.” He glanced around at the various workers Bruno had let up and hired when he finally admitted his waitstaff weren’t skilled contractors. “Anyway, this is no place to discuss it. We’ll have to meet tonight and plan for every possible…”
“Or early tomorrow.” Clark said quickly. “Isn’t that about the same as meeting tonight?”
Jones narrowed Rocco’s eyes. “I think you’re underestimating the importance of…”
“Listen, I don’t come on duty here till noon. There is plenty of time in the morning. And I’m really sick of everyone telling me what to do and when to do it. I have a date tonight. Okay?” He leaned in. “It’s pretty much the only thing getting me through this day and, considering how much time I spend trying to make sure everyone else is safe and happy, I think I deserve it!”
Jones leaned back. “I guess you told me.”
There was a creak off to the side and Clark’s eyes widened in horror to see Rocco coming out of the storage room. “Jones?”
“Hmm?” John turned. “Oh.” He stared that way for a moment and suddenly Rocco yawned and went back through the door.
Clark looked around, making sure no one else had seen that before leaning over the bar again. “What did you do?”
“I just strongly suggested he was still tired.” Jones shrugged.
Clark stared at him, wondering if he should ask Jones the question that had been flitting in and out of his mind since last night. “You know how you can manipulate memories…”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me…”
“I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no.”
Clark straightened. “I thought you didn’t like prying into thoughts unless…”
“I don’t need to pry to know what you want to ask. And no.”
“You mean you won’t help…”
“I mean that I can’t.”
“But if she was willing, if she let you…”
“That’s not how it works,” he said, a sort of sympathy Clark never expected to see in Rocco’s eyes. “I can mold and I can remove, but I can’t replace. I could give a reasonable simulation, but it would be hollow and not her own and I don’t think she’d want that. Do you?”
Clark shook his head. He wasn’t sure if she’d say yes even if Jones could make her whole again, with all she’d said this last month. She wanted to live the life she had now. And he had to respect that.
“So… we meet in the morning,” Jones said, his clipped tones sounding strange in Rocco’s voice. “No later than six.”
Clark nodded.
“Cheer up, Mr. Clemp,” he whispered. “Don’t you have a date?” He looked around and then… disappeared.
************
She disappeared. Somewhere between the parking lot and the door, Lois lost Lana.
She’d stayed on her tail through a whole bus ride only to lose her in the crowd of coats going into Belle Reve through the side door. Maybe it was just as well. What was she going to do when she was in there? Duck behind gurneys and listen in? Confront her about her secret nursing?
She calmed herself down and stared at the side entrance. She’d been doing a lot of that today. After the initial rush of emotion and the inexplicable urge to kiss his face off, there was a part of her that was kind of freaked out by what Clark said.
There have been times when I hear you without even trying, when you need me to… If you really needed me, I’d be there. In a second.
Aside from the general panic the intensity of his feelings seemed to inspire, there was the more immediate worry over him thinking she needed him when she didn’t. How did this hearing thing work exactly? Was it only involuntary for her as well as him? She didn’t want to risk him being triggered just when she had something she’d rather not share… just yet.
Just to be safe, she’d kept herself very calm all morning. She didn’t shriek when some teenager almost side-swiped her running in and out of lanes on Main and she didn’t so much as squeak when Bart decided to jump from behind a van in The Planet’s parking lot, complaining about how bored he was today.
After informing Bart, once again very calmly, that she had a job to go to, she went about completely ignoring that job to stalk Lana Lang. It was still work-related… in that she had used her work computers and some light hacking to find out that Lorna Leery would be on the clock at Belle Reve, working under Dr. Carson, starting at one pm.
She couldn’t get further than that and, at that moment, she really wished she’d paid more attention rather than freaking out when Victor had given her hacking lessons. Maybe she’d go back for a refresher course.
Regardless, she’d had enough to go on. Between that schedule and the Metro-Line’s, it was just some old fashioned follow-that-bus action.
Except now she was stuck. What now?
She stopped, staring at the closed door as a well-dressed woman with a rolling bag moved through, barking out orders at a man following with two large insulated bags. Probably a pharm rep with a bribe lunch. She stared at them, thinking about how easy it must be with free food.
She groaned at the smoke curling into her eyes and turned to the sad, painted square in the parking lot that seemed to be the hospital campus’ only designated smoking area, from the crowd squeezed into it. She waved at it, annoyed, then stopped… and smiled. Smoke break. Outside of lunch hour, it was the best time for gossip. Maybe even better as you could talk a lot more without your mouth full.
She dug in her purse and moved toward the square, letting out several beleaguered huffs. “Stupid new years resolutions,” she muttered as loud as she could. “Of all days…” She stopped in front of two women, shivering in scrubs and coats and sighed, pulling out a dollar. “Would either of you take a buck for a cigarette?”
The older one nudged her friend. “I could retire on this.” She pulled one out and handed it to Lois. “No charge.”
“Aw, thanks.”
The younger one handed her a lighter. “Let me guess. You quit for new years.”
Lois tried not to cough as she blew out the smoke. “How’d you know?”
“You’re not our first,” the older one said. “If I had a nickel for everyone that said they’d give me a dollar for a smoke…”
The younger one giggled. “We’d make more if we just start taking the dollars.”
Lois held it out. “Offer’s still open.”
She waved it away. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve been there.”
Lois shrugged and took a drag, feeling light headed. The things she did… “I’ll start again tomorrow.”
“That’s what I say every year,” the older one scoffed.
“No, it’s just today. My boss is trying to get some samples moving.” She shrugged. “Pharm rep. I’ve been trying to set up a catered lunch for Dr. Carson, but it’s hard to get clear on scheduling. I did talk to this one… uh… what was her name? Long, brown hair, kind of ridiculously shiny… I want to say… Lora? Lola?”
“Oh, you mean Lorna?” The younger one rolled her eyes. “She’s not in charge. You want to bring in lunch, talk to Ellen, here. She’s in charge of A wing.”
Ellen, apparently, laughed. “Yeah. You can set it up in my trunk. Save me a few weeks of dinner.”
Lois forced a laugh, too. “Yeah. I’m new. I thought she seemed like the one to talk to with her being so… what’s a nice word for it?”
“Up her own ass?”
Lois let out a genuine laugh. Sadly, it turned to a coughing fit. “Sorry. I really did cut back. She… she gave me a lot of attitude,” Lois tried. “What’s with her, anyway?” She tried to look experienced as she flicked her ashes. It got on her shoes, but the girls didn’t seem to notice with gossip afoot.
“Who knows?” The younger one blew out a steady stream. “She doesn’t eat with us or talk to us. Just fusses with records and acts like she’s so important.”
“Maybe she’s full of it because she used to work with him...” Ellen turned to her friend. “What’s his name? He used to come in a while back. Only worked the high end patients. The one they were calling the wunderkind or…”
“I don’t know. He went into some cushy private practice full time, I think. Our crazies weren’t rich enough, maybe.”
Ellen snorted. “Some wunderkind. Haven’t heard of him again. I thought she went with him, but here she is again. Maybe he folded. Anyway, about this lunch…”
“Oh, I still gotta clear it up with my boss,” Lois said, hurriedly stubbing out her cigarette. “But thanks, girls.”
“Well, who do you work for?”
“Uh… Wellbutrin,” she said. That sounded like one of them.
“But…”
“I’ll be in touch,” she said, rushing off. “You’ve been a big help.”
And they had. She just might send A Wing some lunch tomorrow, anyway.
******************
“What do you think?” Clark asked.
Lois pushed her slice away. “I don’t think I’m having pizza for lunch tomorrow,” she shrugged, “or for the foreseeable future.”
“I think this is the best one.”
“You’re just saying that because it’s New York. Everyone’s supposed to think New York has the best pizza.”
“No. It’s interesting.” He said around a mouthful. “It’s got that cornmeal on the bottom that kind of balances the grease.”
She shook her head. “Nothing will ever balance the amount of grease in that slice.”
He stared hard at her. “You’re faking this.”
“What?”
“This disgust. There is no way you liked the California one.”
“I did. It was fresher and had a whole wheat crust and the goat cheese added an interesting…”
“It was healthy,” he said, taking another bite. “Everything a pizza shouldn’t be. Too many vegetables.”
“This from an organic farming family,” she said on a laugh. “I’m telling your mother.”
“Don’t change the subject. This is delicious.” He nudged at a paper plate. “Try the sausage and mushroom.”
She drummed her nails briefly on the table, but she pulled the paper plate toward her. “You know, when I said we should get a slice, I didn’t think it would be a multi-state affair.”
He grinned. “You were the one who started talking about pizza and how every city says theirs is the best.”
“I was just making conversation. I didn’t think we’d put it to the test.” She took a bite.
“Well?”
She swallowed, then sighed. “It’s okay. You happy now?”
“Better than the goat cheese and spinach?” he prodded.
She took her time chewing her next bite, holding in a smile, then wondered why she was bothering holding in. She was having a damned good time.
It started with her rather silly delight at him showing up in the coat she bought him. They’d been to four different places in four different cities and waited for four different “best pizzas” according to Zagat’s and, even with that wait, she never felt bored. Maybe it was because this felt so new. There was something strangely exciting about him taking her hand in line, him rushing to pull out her chair at the table, him tossing an arm over her shoulders after giving their leftover pizza to the first person they saw before finding an alleyway for take-off.
Maybe that should be the exciting part, that they were flying together at all. But she found herself more excited about those tiny things. There was even a certain silly thrill in this moment, with him reading her face as she chewed.
“Come on…”
“Fine. It’s better.”
He smiled. “Knew it.” He leaned in. “I know you.”
She sighed. “You do. And it is ruining my first date mystique. See, you’re supposed to believe me when I say I eat only organic food and love rock climbing and I ride my bike everywhere.”
“You don’t have a bike.”
“But you’re not supposed to know that.”
“I like that you don’t have any mystique.”
“Well, sure you do!” She leaned back in her chair. “You have all the mystique on your end.”
He laughed. “How do I have mystique?”
“You… Well…” Didn’t he?
“Lois, you know pretty much everything there is to know about me.” He picked at a stray olive. “And you could know more if you…
“Would you stop with the homework?” she cut in. “I thought we agreed I didn’t have to…”
“I just don’t understand it.” He leaned in to whisper. “There’s this whole book of truth just sitting there and the girl I know would jump right in and…”
“Maybe the girl you know is a woman now,” she hissed back. “And maybe I’m going at my own pace because…”
Because I don’t want to know. If there’s something that could make this feeling go away, something that could make me push you away, then I just don’t want to know it. Not now. Right now, she knew that Chloe and Clark had missed enough chances. Right now, she didn’t want to miss another.
“Because I have other things to do,” she finally finished.
“What things?”
Stalk Lana Lang. “I’m not giving away the only mystique I have left. Sorry.” She tried for a playful smile. It wasn’t like she had anything concrete… yet. Just several theories.
He frowned and leaned closer. “What are you…”
“Are you telling me every detail of your investigation?”
“No, but…”
“Then we’ve found our mystique.” She lifted her soda cup. “Good for us. Should keep things interesting.”
He kept his frown, but he nodded. “Fair enough, then.”
“So what’s the score?” she said, moving onto lighter things. “Chicago?”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t know about deep dish. Too doughy in the middle. But Detroit’s was pretty deep and still crunchy on the bottom with the twice-baked...”
She scoffed. “But it was square. I think that’s just fundamentally wrong.”
“Well, California’s out.”
“I still think it was interesting,” Lois insisted.
“Interesting is not the same as delicious.” He held up his slice. “I think we have a winner.”
“But we didn’t try Metropolis.”
“It doesn’t count. There’s no known Metropolis style pizza.”
She huffed loudly. “So? It’s our city? Where's your loyalty? Bessolo’s has the best…”
“Oh, you mean Bessolo’s ‘authentic New York style’ pizza. Yeah. Pretty good. You can almost taste the New York.”
“You win,” she groaned, giving in.
“Knew it.” He chuckled. “Should we start chanting ‘New York’ and see if people join in?”
“Please don’t,” she laughed.
They both laughed for a moment until it tapered off into a sort of strained silence. She’d told herself she wouldn’t think about it tonight. The minute Clark knocked on her door, she put Lana out of her mind. But he’d gone quiet, too.
She wondered what he’d say, if he’d still defend her if she told him that Lana had worked at Belle Reve while Lex was there, that she’d worked under Grady. The Lorna Leery employment records supported it, though she hadn’t gone with him into private practice as the nurses speculated. Lois knew that, at least, from her own sessions with Grady.
Maybe she went back to Florida, mission accomplished. She could certainly see why Lex having no memory of Lana Lang might be to her advantage. But why had she come back?
She was still piecing it together and she needed more info and her hacking skills were just not up to it… yet.
Regardless, Lana was at Belle Reve again, this time under Carson. The fact that he was the doctor assigned to Lex Luthor’s continued mental well-being as well as his home visits couldn’t be a coincidence. But what did she have to gain from it? This couldn’t just be for the love of mental health.
She thought of Lex, of the last time she saw him, of the things she’d found out about him since that made her desperately wish never to see him again. Of course that wish had been granted so far. No one saw Lex Luthor anymore. No one but, apparently, Doctor Emmet Carson.
She wouldn’t tell him. Not just yet. She needed more. Besides, this was a date, not the time for half-assed note-comparing – and Clark wasn’t sharing his notes, darn him. She shook it all off and smiled.
“So,” she started, wiping her rather greasy fingers on a napkin, “I’ve kind of run out of talking points.” Safe ones, anyway.
“Yeah.” He chuckled in a nervous sort of way that made her want to plant herself right in his lap. “What do people talk about on a first date when they pretty much know everything?”
Her eyes were drawn to his lips, even his teeth – the way that one was just a little crooked. “Well, I think they…”
“You two done?” Their sour-looking waitress reappeared. “We’re closing.”
“But it’s only…” Clark checked his watch. “It’s after ten?”
“Well, it’s really nine for us.”
“You guys here on vacation?” their waitress asked in dull tones, more out of necessity than any interest as she basically dropped the check and left without the answer.
He stood and wiped his hands. “Are you done?”
“With pizza? Yes.”
He came around the table and pulled out her chair. She stood and turned to grab her coat just to find him already holding it open. She sighed. “All this chivalry,” she said as he helped her into it.
His brows drew together when she turned. “Too weird?”
“Well, yeah. But I guess it’s kind of a nice weird.” She quickly grabbed the check. “But I’m getting this.”
“Oh, no. I…”
“Clark, let me. I don’t want to do the check dance. It’s coy and it’s silly and you have an unfair advantage.”
“Do I?” He was suddenly holding it. “I don’t see how.”
She grabbed it back. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but who was it that actually started the ball rolling on this date?”
“You did, but…”
“And who is taking an unpaid vacation right now?”
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t…”
“Clark, we’re far enough into the new millennium that the woman can win the check dance. Do you agree or are you a complete misogynist?”
He narrowed his eyes, though he was half smiling. “You’re tricky.”
“Am I?” She blinked at him. “I don’t see how.”
The flight home was chilly, but she didn’t feel it somehow, between her coat and his, half-wrapped around her. When they touched down in an alleyway off Hobbs, she didn’t really want to move away. So she didn’t, not at first.
He’d been demonstrative tonight, little touches here and there, but it all felt like a warm up to this. She slowly lifted her head…
“So,” he said, rather long and drawn out and ending on a breath of a laugh. “What do people talk about on a first date when they pretty much know everything?”
“Huh?”
“You started to answer back there,” he said, nodding his head in a general northeastern direction.
“Oh.” She shook her head, letting out a foggy laugh in the cold air. “I forget what I was going to say.”
“Well, maybe they plan second dates.” He pulled her out to the street, then tucked her arm in his. “So maybe tomorrow, if you’re free and… uh…”
“Barring some catastrophe. I know.” That condition still intrigued her, but not as much as the long walk down her street. Every second, it was getting closer. Her building, her door, her bedroom... “I think you might warrant just one more date. I haven’t decided yet, though.” She stopped and he stopped with her. “I mean, this date isn’t over yet.”
“Well, I didn’t say it was. I was only…”
“Anyway, I just remembered my answer.” She tugged at his coat collar. “About that first date, what people talk about when they know it all.”
“Oh.” He let out a puff of steam between them. “Yeah. The… I was wondering…”
“Maybe they stop talking,” she said over him, rising on her toes as she pulled him down to her, but not all the way. She was kind of sick of kissing him… Well, not kissing him, but of being the one to kiss first. By her count, three of their last four kisses had been down to her. Maybe the second was kind of a toss-up, but she had definitely been doing most of the lip work even then as he’d been too busy trying to strip her clothes off. She kind of wished he had that kind of gumption right now, but there was nothing red and shiny on her.
“Talking stopped. Yeah. I mean talking is… You know, at some point, you just stop,” he said, talking even now, as if he was just blind to irony.
She very strongly resisted the urge to close the distance between them. “I mean, there’s no second date if there’s no chemistry, no attraction.”
His eyes closed slightly. “Yeah. You need that.”
“So…” She ran a finger down his tie, “if it’s not there, there’s no point.”
“Definitely. Pointless. Talking. There.”
Was he just saying words now? “Okay, then.” She patted his chest. “See you around, I guess.”
She barely made it to her front steps when she was spun around, pressed between a stone railing and Clark.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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