That's when Clark holds up a finger, disappears for a moment, and reappears with a soft gust of wind. Then, holding a strange pale device that almost looked like it was made of glass, Clark pressed one of the sides with his thumb and brought up images he'd viewed a hundred times, a thousand.

"It took me a few years to figure out the language. Even with my... I mean, I'm pretty smart, but the language is incredibly complex. This was put with me, though, so I figure they wanted me to know where I came from. Who I came from."

His father had hated every bit of it.