Nice one, Clark.
- Look out. It's gonna hit us! - My God!
Run, run, run!
- Oh, my gosh. - Jump!
Did you see that?
Freeze it.
What is that? Can anyone tell me?
Looks like a flying guy.
No kidding. I know he's flying, but who is he?
Where did he come from? What does he want?
- Look who I'm asking. - Nice S.
- Excuse me? - Right here. He's strong. He flies.
He's the Nietzschean fantasy ideal all wrapped up in a red cape.
- The superman. - Superman?
Hey, I like it.
Superman. It's catchy, sticks with you. The kind of name that looks great...
splashed across three columns... Four...
provided one of you can get an interview with him.
Somehow, I don't think a guy like that has a press agent, chief.
Well, somebody better get something on this guy fast.
I've never seen the city in such a state. Look at these faxes.
If we don't get answers soon there could be a full-scale panic.
We've kept this book since you left Smallville.
Every time we read about an invisible angel helping someone...
we knew our Clark had to be nearby.
But now that I've settled in Metropolis, it's impossible to keep a low profile.
I can see where landing a plane in the middle of the city might turn a few heads.
It's not just that. Suddenly, people are calling me Superman.
They want to know everything about me. Some are afraid of me...
like Jor-El and Lara warned.
Does this mean I'm going to have to give up my life?
No, son. It doesn't matter where you were born or what you can do.
You'll always be Clark Kent. Superman just helps out now and then.
It wouldn't be bad if people knew a little more about Superman.
I don't want anyone thinking you're like that nut in Gotham City.
There must be some way to get the word out.
Sorry, Perry. I checked with Star Labs...
and they're just as clueless as everyone else about our fly boy.
Right. I'm heading back now.
Excuse me, Miss Lane. I believe I'm the one you want to talk to.
Oh, yeah? Well, where are you?
I'm... Just hang on.
As far as I can piece together...
I'm the last survivor of a planet called Krypton.
Krypton?
Okay.
You don't believe me?
It's a little much.
Fair enough.
All I ask is that you tell the truth.
- And that is? - I'm not here to scare anyone.
In fact, I've always tried to help people whenever possible.
You sound too good to be true. What's your secret?
What do you mean?
You don't go around in blue tights and a cape all the time.
What do you do in your off-hours?
I think that's a question for another time.
Well, well, an alien in my own back yard.
And such a civic-minded one too.
I think he means what he says, Lex.
Well, that's just dandy, Lois.
All I know is, your hero did nothing to help me.
I'm the one who's out a billion-dollar battle suit.
Actually, this could end up a silver lining in your pocket.
What's that?
Since the terrorists have your prototype...
the Pentagon's gonna want you to build a better version for them.
When all is said and done, this could net you a multi-billion dollar windfall.
Lois, it almost sounds as if your friend here...
is suggesting I should be glad my suit was stolen.
You're very amusing, Mr... Kent, is it?
Yes, I'll remember that.
Nice work, Smallville.
You're only the second person I've seen get under Lex's skin.
- Who's the first? - Me. When I dumped him.
Ancient history. What makes you think...
Lex might have been an accessory to the theft?
I don't think it was a theft. I think he gave it away.
I was digging up background info on Luthor...
and found this photo at last year's International Industrial Conference.
Recognize the guy with the medals?
The regent of Kaznia. So?
So the U.S. and Kaznia haven't been on real friendly terms lately.
It seems the regent's been employing
terrorists to eliminate his political enemies.
Old news, Kent. The president broke diplomatic ties with Kaznia months ago.
Which means Luthor couldn't sell the regent a war suit...
without it being an act of treason.
So Luthor just left the back door open for him to take it.
- It works in theory. - In theory, maybe...
but Perry White doesn't run theories.
- Where are you going? - I'd tell you...
but you'd have to share the byline.
I've told you before, there's no work for you on this ship.
Now leave, before I call the harbor police.
I'm going, you blasted rat bag, I'm going.
Blasted scabs taking jobs from us union men.
I ought to go back and split some skulls, I ought to.
Got a tire iron right here.
Oh, it's you, Miss Lane. Come to do another smuggling story?
Maybe. What can you tell me about that tanker?
It's the darndest thing I ever seen.
She's been in port a week and ain't moved a bit of cargo on or off.
Blasted scow's leaving port tonight, and I says good riddance.
Gotta get on that ship.
Bibbo, take this and call Clark Kent at the Planet.
Tell him where I am and to call Police Commissioner Henderson...
if he doesn't hear from me in 20 minutes. Got that? 20 minutes.
Thanks, Bibbo. I owe you one.
Yeah, sure, sure, sure.
Call Kurt Kent, let him know about the boat...
and said something about the police. Yeah, okay.
Hey, soda.
She'll be okay.
We're not giving interviews, you got that?
- If I could just speak to your captain. - I said no interviews.
- What part of that don't you understand? - Hans. Hans!
There's no reason for hostility...
especially towards such an attractive visitor.
I'm John Corben, special attaché to the regent.
- How may I help you, Miss...? - Lois Lane, Daily Planet.
I'm doing a story on gun smuggling...
and was wondering if I could ask about your cargo.
But we have no cargo.
You must know there's a trade embargo between the U.S. and Kaznia.
We're part of a diplomatic envoy...
trying to restore friendly relations between our countries.
Then you won't mind me taking a look around.
Better yet, why don't we continue this interview ashore, say, over dinner?
I'd be more than happy to answer any questions that you might have.
I can think of some doozies.
I'll bet.
Here's a shot of Luthor getting a commendation.
A shot of the special crimes unit.
And I took this at the dedication of the zoo's polar bear exhibit.
- Cute little guy. - Yeah, nice.
You didn't see Miss Lane come back, did you?
She brought me along to get shots for her smuggling story.
- Is that right? - Yeah, have a look.
Yeah, I figure a few more shots like that and Perry's bound to put me on staff.
There, in the background. That ship's a Kaznian tanker.
It's so small. How can you tell?
Clark?
You're making a big mistake. Everyone in my office knows where I am.
Sweetheart, if anyone knew or cared, they would have made a move by now.
We're clear. Lose her.
You again? Get him!
Take cover.
Thanks.
Anytime.
So long, sweetheart.
Call the police and let them know what's happening. I'll try to stop it.
Be...
careful.
This is Corben. Tell the regent his battle suit is coming to him by special delivery.
Everyone, clear the area now.
Stupid, stupid move, my friend.
No!
Gotcha.
Shall we go a few rounds without the suit?
Too bad.
Yeah, chief, I think stopping the presses would be a very good idea.
You see, as the agreed-upon merchandise never left Metropolis...
my client, the regent, respectfully requests a full and prompt refund.
We had an understanding.
All I had to do was arrange for the regent's men...
to take possession, and they did.
Now because of this alien's interference you expect me to eat a billion dollars?
I think you have more pressing concerns at the moment.
Good day.
I'm afraid we already have a window washer.
Oh, the silent treatment.
Well, I don't know what you thought you heard...
but I know what you can prove. And it's nothing.
You see, Superman...
I own Metropolis. My technology built it, my will keeps it going...
and two-thirds of its people work for me, whether they know it or not.
Even you have to admit it's a model of efficiency.
And yet I've often thought, "Why limit myself to just one city?"
A being with your abilities could be very useful to me on a...
shall we say, global scale.
Why don't you float on in and we'll discuss it.
Say something!
I'll be watching you, Luthor.
Wait, I'm not finished with you!
- Hey, look. - There he is.
- Superman! - Get a shot. Superman, come on down.
Superman, give us an answer here.
Way to go, big guy. You're okay.
Brainiac systems activated.