Lost Girl of Krypton

by Julian Porter

  Lost Girl of Krypton

  Julian Porter

  Disclaimer

  The characters in this work are based on characters that are the property of DC Comics. This work makes no claim to represent their official position in DC Comics’ fictional universe; it is a piece of imaginative fiction with no claim to represent anything other than itself.

  Copyright notice

  Characters property of DC Comics. Otherwise: © All rights reserved, Julian Porter 2012.

  My name is Kara, or maybe it’s Karen, or maybe I don’t have a name and I’m just the Power Girl. To be honest, I don’t know who I am. I remember arriving on Earth in a spaceship saved from the destruction of Krypton. But I also remember being born in sunken Atlantis and then being sent to the surface to seek aid. And then I remember being a time-traveller sent from the future to bring a warning. I remember all those things and more, but the doctors tell me none of them happened; they are only true in my mind. Sometimes I believe them. Sometimes I believe Superman loves me. Today I don’t know what I believe.

  On thing I do believe is that I know what I look like. It isn’t much, but it’s something I can hold on to when all the different versions of me start talking at once and I get confused. I stand six feet tall, which I am told is unusual for a woman. I have yellow-blonde hair, which hangs down my back. I feel somehow that it would be more right if it were cut close to my head, curling in as if cradling me, but the doctors say that just at the moment they’d rather not get me too close to anything sharp, and I suppose they know best. I think my face is quite pretty, but that’s one of the things that only I believe. Hardly anybody ever looks at my face, and when they do they look away almost immediately, so I suppose they must believe I’m ugly. Perhaps Kara is pretty and Karen is ugly. Or perhaps Power Girl is scowling at them. I don’t know.

  Moving down, I have a narrow waist. So narrow I sometimes think it might snap in two. But I try not to have thoughts like that, because the doctors say that if I start to think like that then I’ll start to believe that I can snap people in two at the waist, and then I’ll start to believe Power Girl when she says that she used to spend her time battling terrible monsters, and she was stronger even than Superman. And if I believe her then it will all start again, only next time the paramedics may not arrive in time. So I have a waist, which nobody in the whole wide world could snap, though it is very slim and willowy. And then I have wide hips and long, long legs. One of the orderlies once said that with legs like mine I must have been an athlete before I came to the hospital. I don’t remember anything from before, but a doctor who was nearby scolded him and told me over and over that I must remember my quiet life doing nothing in particular, as a perfectly ordinary girl, and he said it so often that by the time he’d finished I found I did remember that. But late that night, when the doctors and the orderlies and Power Girl and all the others except Kara and me were asleep, Kara whispered to me that once she had run from the Earth to the Moon and back in two seconds. Which is just silly.

  I’ve saved till last what I’m sure is my best feature. At least, everyone I meet looks and looks and looks, and sometimes they have difficulty stopping looking, and even as they leave me, I can see them looking some more, all the way to the door. Even the doctors, the ones who have seen me every day since whenever it was I came here, can still hardly keep their eyes away from it. It’s my breasts. I like my breasts. They’re firm, but soft, and they have a beautiful round shape, just like great round balls. One of the orderlies once told me they were bigger than footballs, but I told him he was lying. So the next day he brought in a football to show me. And he was right. And I’m pretty sure everyone else thinks my breasts are beautiful, just like I do, for otherwise why would they all spend so much time looking at them? And why are they so happy when they come to see them and sad when they leave? It makes me very happy that I have the ability to make other people happy. I like it when people are happy. When I’m happy, very happy, sometimes Karen and Power Girl and the others stop talking, and for a brief moment I almost wonder if there might be a me after all. But even if there isn’t a me, and what I call my body is just a device built to carry around two lovely breasts, then being the caretaker is an important job. It’s very responsible when you have the task of bringing happiness to others. And so I used to do my duty by going round the hospital letting people see my breasts. For a long time I did this and everyone was happy, but then one day a new patient, a young man, almost a boy, instead of gazing in rapt awe like everyone else, shouted something about knockers and touched them. I like touching my breasts. When I do I feel all warm inside, and just the hint that there may be more to life than contented emptiness, whatever the doctors say. But when he touched them something happened. I don’t know what, but the next thing I knew was that I was in bed and a doctor was telling me that the young man had had to go to another hospital because he wasn’t going to walk any more. And then he asked me to stop showing people my breasts. I didn’t understand why and neither did any of the others, but I always try to do what the doctors ask me to. Except when I don’t. I do hope that it wasn’t seeing my breasts that made the young man decide to stop walking.

  While I am listening to Kara and Karen argue about which of them is really me, an orderly comes in and said the doctor wants to see me. I am happy to come as I am, but he says it will be better if I put some clothes on first. I don't understand why. I say that I think seeing my breasts will make the doctor happier than having them hidden, but the orderly says that the doctor is already very happy and doesn't want to be too happy in case something bad happens. I think this is silly. How can you be too happy? I decide that they are lying to me, and in fact the doctor doesn’t want to be happy. Which is not a good thing. Power Girl says that in that case I ought to try to make him be happy, for what good could come from not seeing my breasts when they were there to be seen, and I think she is right. But the last time I tried to make someone happy who didn’t want to be happy, they gave me a pill. And it made all of us feel funny, even the Nameless One, and we agreed that we didn’t want that to happen again. So, telling Power Girl to bide her time, I put on a blouse and go to the doctor's room.

  There is a man there. Another man apart from the doctor. And the orderly. But they are men I know. And I immediately understand why the doctor wanted me covered up, because this man looks very unhappy. Obviously they are hoping to make him happy again, but fear that too much happiness at once might be too much for him. I can tell that my breasts are having an effect from the way that his body temperature rises and his heart quickens when he looks at them. But he still looks unhappy, so I decide to waste no more time and unbutton my blouse to show him true happiness. I even say,

  ‘You can be happy now,’ just in case he doesn’t understand what my breasts are trying to tell him. But I must have done it wrong, because he doesn’t look as happy as I would expect someone who has just seen my breasts for the first time to be. And the doctor says,

  ‘Oh Kara,’ in that voice he uses when it turns out that something I have done is bad, and though I never understand him when he explains how what I have done is bad, I know that me being bad makes him unhappy, and I don’t want him to be unhappy. I don’t want anyone to be unhappy, but especially not the doctor, because I like him. So I hide my breasts and he says, ‘Thank you Kara,’ so I am happy, because he said it in the voice he uses when he is telling me how good I am. Then he says, and it must have been to the man, because I don’t think any of the voices are called Mr Kent, ‘I’m sorry Mr Kent, but this is the problem. She’s a pure innocent, but given the form her innocence takes I really don’t think it’s safe to discharge her.’ The man says,

  ‘Yes, doctor, but I am aware of t
he risks and I am sure I can keep her under control. It’s not as if I’m not used to dealing with unusual people.’ The doctor seems unhappy, and I am about to unbutton my blouse again when he says,

  ‘There’s unusual, Mr Kent, and there’s seriously disturbed. Kara is much more fragile than the superheroes you are used to. But I see you’re set on this, and you are her legal guardian, so there’s nothing I can do. I just warn you, Mr Kent, that if anything happens…’

  ‘If anything happens,’ says the man, ‘I will be responsible.’ He stands up. The doctor says in his gentle voice,

  ‘Kara, Kara.’ I turn to look at him. He looks so sad I want to let him touch my breasts, only I promised him that I wouldn’t let anyone touch them ever again. Because if everyone decided to stop walking, where would we be? So I look at him, wishing there was a way I could make him happy. He says, ‘So Kara, this is the end of your time here. I wish you well in your new life with your cousin, but I hope you will always remember me as your friend.’ He looks terribly sad and I don’t know what to do. Then suddenly, as if a part of me that not I, not even the voices, had known was there was speaking, I know. I fling my arms around him and put my mouth to his. He makes a muffled noise but then somehow we seem to almost become one and I feel again that warmth inside that hints at more. Then, with a sigh, he slips to the floor out of my grasp. As I stand looking down at him, the man makes as if to take my hand, then stops, almost as if he has remembered something, and said,

  ‘Come, Kara.’ I turn round and follow him out of the room. I look back to see the doctor one last time, but he has gone.

  So it seems I am going to live with Mr Kent and his wife. He says I am Kara Kent and I am his cousin. When I ask if the rest of us are his cousin too, he doesn’t seem to understand, so I say,

  ‘So is Karen your cousin? And what about Power Girl? Is she your cousin too?’ When I mention Power Girl his eyes narrow and I notice that his pulse rate jumps and he starts to sweat. But he says,

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Then he says, ‘Power Girl went away a long time ago,’ which I know isn’t true, because she’s here right now, along with Kara and Karen and all the others. In fact, she tries to talk to him, but as she wants me to say something that doesn’t sound like real words I tell her she can’t. Not unless she promises to only use real words. Because if I start saying things that aren’t real words they might think I’m about to do it again, and I wouldn’t like that. When Power Girl is using proper words again, she says that she knows Mr Kent. It is all very confusing.

  We arrive at what he says is his house and go in. He leads me to a room. It’s nothing like any of the rooms I know. They are all painted white and don’t have anything people could throw or hurt themselves with. This room has pictures on the walls, and colours, and carpet instead of plastic sheeting. And in it is a woman. I wonder if she is one of the people Power Girl talks about – Drusilla, Helena, Diana – but then Mr Kent says,

  ‘Kara, this is my wife Lois. Lois, this is Kara.’ I look at Lois. She is not as tall as me, or as pretty, or at least, I don’t think so, but she still looks nice. But as well as looking nice she looks sad. As if she has been sad for so long she has forgotten how to be happy. I don’t like that; I want everyone to be happy. So I try to make Lois happy. I say,

  ‘I like your breasts.’ Which is true. They’re good breasts. Obviously not beautiful like mine, but still something that should be a joy to own and to see. And I want to remind Lois of this, so she will be happy again. But it seems I must have said it wrong, because Lois jumps and says,

  ‘Wh – what did you say?’ I am about to repeat myself when Mr Kent butts in and says,

  ‘They told me at the hospital; apparently she’s fixated on her breasts and keeps exposing them. She thinks they’re beautiful, for some reason.’ I look at Mr Kent. He interrupted me, and I don’t like it when people interrupt me. It makes me cross, and when I get cross bad things happen. At least, that’s what they told me. I never remembered doing half the things they said I do when I’m cross. But my friend the doctor asked me to try to restrain myself, so I take a deep breath, count to seventeen and say,

  ‘My breasts are beautiful. They are the most beautiful thing in the world. Or in any of the other worlds Kara keeps talking about.’ I turn my back on him and say to Lois, ‘You think my breasts are beautiful, don’t you? Here, let me show you.’ I unbutton my blouse and show her. She stares at my breasts, at first as if she were an orderly who has just discovered that Power Girl has been tying knots in the bars on the windows again, but then she relaxes and I can tell from her deep, regular breathing that she has understood my breasts, and knows that they are the true path to happiness. After a while she says, quietly,

  ‘Oh Kara, yes, they are beautiful. You are so very, very lucky being so beautiful. May I touch them?’ Mr Kent butts in again,

  ‘Lois, no! They told me at the hospital that the last time someone touched her she…’ I am definitely cross. I do something, or rather, Power Girl does something, and Mr Kent stops talking and there is a thump just like when I drop something on the floor. But I am looking at Lois, who is looking at my breasts. I say,

  ‘The doctor said I shouldn’t let anyone touch my breasts, but if you promise you won’t stop walking, I’m sure he won’t mind.’ Lois moves slowly towards me and extends a hand. She touched me and I feel warm inside, and something tells me that I should touch her breasts, so I do. She moans, just like someone who has been dosed with Thorazine, but she looks very, very happy, which people who have been dosed with Thorazine generally aren’t. She starts to move towards me as if she wants us to put our mouths together. I think touching mouths would be very nice, and I am bending down so Lois, who is much shorter than me, can reach, when Mr Kent says,

  ‘Lois! Kara! What are you doing?’ Lois jumps again, removes her hand and pulls away from me. I don’t understand why. It’s almost as if she’s afraid of Mr Kent. I am beginning to not like Mr Kent, as he seems to be always butting in where he isn’t wanted, but I’m not afraid of him. I’m not afraid of anything.

  Mr Kent says, ‘I think I’d better show you to your room, Kara,’ and I say,

  ‘I’d rather stay here and touch mouths with Lois.’ Mr Kent says,

  ‘Kara, Lois doesn’t want to touch mouths with you. She doesn’t want to touch you at all. You have to remember that.’ I am confused. As far as I can tell, Lois enjoys touching me very much, but now Mr Kent says she doesn’t. I think of asking Lois what she thinks, but when I look at her she is staring at the floor and looking very unhappy, so maybe Mr Kent is right, and when Lois moaned it was just like someone being dosed with Thorazine, and I was wrong when I thought she was happy. I do make mistakes. And so, as I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do, I follow Mr Kent out of the room. Power Girl says she can think of several things she’d rather do, but I say that though I don’t like Mr Kent, I think ripping his arms off and making him eat them is going too far. And anyway, we can do it later.

  Mr Kent leads me down a corridor, though it is a strange corridor with pictures and carpet and no emergency buttons. It makes me feel nervous, and when we come to a door and Mr Kent opens it and says,

  ‘Your room is through here,’ I feel even more nervous. The room is enormous. Bigger than the group therapy room or the dining room. Much bigger than my room. I can’t be happy here. I try to explain this to Mr Kent, but my nervousness makes me uncertain, and Kara and Karen and all the others are trying to talk at the same time, so I end up stammering and Mr Kent seems to think I am happy, because he says, ‘There’s no need to thank me, Kara, it’s the least I can do for you. After all, you are my cousin. And this is more important to me than you can know.’ He reaches out as if he was going to touch me, but he doesn’t, which makes me glad. I do not like Mr Kent. But though I don’t like him, when he leaves me in the gigantic room I want to run after him. I want to run away from this house and all the way back to the hospital, where my own, comfortable room
is, and never leave it again. But I realise I don’t know how to get from here to the hospital, and then Andromeda, who is usually too frightened to talk much, says that bad things can happen to women who go outside alone, so I have to stay here after all. That makes me miserable. Even touching my breasts doesn’t make me happy. I wish I could touch Lois, but she is not here, and I fear that if I go out of the room alone one of the bad things Andromeda mentioned might happen, so I have to stay here. I stand in the middle of the room and look around me, touching my breasts as I do, because though it doesn’t make me happy, it’s better than nothing. I see a huge bed and row after row of drawers and shelves. One of the drawers has a lock on it. I know about drawers with locks on them. They’re where the doctor keeps dangerous things, and the one time I opened one, they said afterwards I was lucky to be alive. So I decide to stay as far from the locked drawer as I can. I see a door: another one, different from the one leading to the corridor. It doesn’t have a lock on it, so I go over to have a look. It turns out that it leads to a bathroom. My own bathroom! How grand. It is far grander than any bathroom I have seen, but it is a proper size for a room, and the bath looks nice and cosy, so I decide I will live in here.

  I am in my room with Mr Kent again. I stay in my bathroom until he comes to get me, telling me that it is time for dinner. The food is very strange, but I manage to eat it once I have worked out how the thing with pointy bits on it works. Lois looks at her plate and says nothing. I look at Lois, wishing I could touch her. Mr Kent talks, but I do not listen. When we have finished eating Lois gets up and takes away my plate. I try to touch her, but she shies away. I would like to follow her, but Mr Kent says he wants to talk with me in my room, so I try to lead him to my room but he says no, it has to be in the big room. Then he tells me to take off my clothes. I assume he must be sad and wants to cheer himself up by seeing how beautiful I am. I don’t like him, but I want everyone to be happy, even people I don’t like, so I take my clothes off. Then he starts talking. He says lots of things about ‘racial imperative’, ‘duty to posterity’, ‘the last best hope of Krypton’ and other things that I don’t understand. He ends up saying,