Free The Death and Life of Superman by Roger Stern

than enough DNA to play with. With the proper manipulation, it took us only a few months to make a new man of you . . . stronger, taller, younger . . . we even did something about that annoying pattern baldness.” Donovan ran a hand through his own thinning mop. “Must remember to do something about that myself.”
    “Then what went wrong?” Luthor demanded. “What’s happened to me? Why am I old again?”
    “You were young only in body.” A new voice echoed from down the corridor, drawing nearer. “Inside, you were still the same old Luthor. You might have convinced the rest of the world that you were your own son, but you couldn’t fool me . . . not for long.”
    From out of the shadows came a tall, powerful figure that Luthor knew all too well.
    “Superman!”
    “Yes, Lex, and I have something for you.” From beneath the folds of his cape, Superman produced a heavy lead canister.
    “What’s that?”
    “Oh, I think you know what it is, Lex.”
    “Keep away from me!”
    “Why, Lex, I want only to give you a hand!” He opened the end of the canister with a twist, revealing a withered human hand. It was Luthor’s hand. On one finger was the ring with its dimly glowing kryptonite gem . . . the ring that had nearly cost him his life!
    “This is what you want, isn’t it?”
    “No . . . no . . .”
    “Take it. Lex. Take it!”
    The hand flew from the canister, grabbed Luthor by the throat, and began to squeeze.
    “No! NOOOOOH!”
    Lex awoke with a start, clutching at his throat. His heart racing, he raised a good right hand to his head. The neatly cropped beard, the long, flowing mane of hair was still there. He hit a switch on the nightstand and a soft diffused light illuminated the far corner of the room. He arose from his bed and walked toward the light, regarding his reflection in the window. A rugged young man with broad shoulders and a tight, firm gut looked back at him. He breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Lex?” A body stirred behind him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing, love. Just had m’self a bit of a nightmare ’sall.”
    A lithe, athletic young woman emerged from beneath the covers and padded across the room to join him at the window. Her long blond hair fell across his chest as she snuggled close to him.
    “Why, I can feel your heart pounding. That must have been a real horror.”
    “Wasn’t any fun, to be sure. I . . . I dreamt that I’d lost m’hand . . . like m’father had.”
    “Oh! How awful!” She kissed his hand and gently caressed it. “What do you think could have caused such a terrible dream?”
    Lex shrugged. “I think about Father all the time.” That was no lie. “Guess m’mind just jumbled things up, and made me imagine what it must’ve been like . . . to be in his shoes. Nothing to really worry about.”
    Except for Dabney Donovan, thought Luthor. The one I killed did turn out to be a clone . . . that much of the dream was true. He’s the only one outside of Kelley and Happersen who knows my secret. Gretchen Kelley had been his personal physician for years and had been willing—however reluctantly—to play the part of his mother. In her own way, she loved Luthor, and he knew that he could trust her with his life. Syd Happersen was a valued aide who had been with him since LexCorp’s founding. Happersen couldn’t betray Luthor without exposing his own part in a number of capital crimes. Only Donovan was a potential danger to him . . . He’s the only one beyond my control.
    “Are you sure it’s nothing?” The young woman’s face was a picture of concern.
    “Would I lie to you, love?”
    “No, of course not.” She smiled. “Come on, let’s go back to bed.”
    They slipped back under the covers and she cuddled close to him, softly crooning in his ear.
    “Mmm, lovely tune.” He stifled a yawn and looked at the clock: 3:47. “ ’S the hour, love, not the comp’ny.”
    “Shhh, that’s all right. You need your sleep.” She kissed him,