Metropolis Island...1644!

Lois groaned, dizzily, laying face-up on the earth. She opened her eyes to see a full moon, and stars more bright and distinct than she had ever seen...even the very faint specks of light you normally couldn't see in Metropolis...

Faces loomed out of the darkness, hovering over her, blotting out the stars. Lois tried to shrink into the soil beneath her. One of them barked a command in an language the reporter didn't recognize, and rough hands reached down, grabbing her arms, hauling her to her feet. Instinctively Lois tried to resist, but the men holding her were strong.

Standing up, Lois looked around in amazement and confusion. There were no buildings here...only trees on all sides. More confusing were the people holding her. They were dressed in neatly made shirts and leggings of hide, trimmed here and there by fur...their faces painted and in places tattooed...it was hard to discern many individual features but they looked like...Native Americans. And not like Hollywood Native Americans either, who were often white actors in red face, but with the high cheekbones and heavy-lidded eyes of real First Nations.

The leader wore a grey wolf pelt about his muscled shoulders, the head hovering over his own like a cowl. He came forward and grasped her jaw in his hand, turning her left and right...

"Wie ben je?" His words came out in a strange accent, but Lois recognized the words as Dutch. When she did not respond, he tried again—this time in French.

"Qui es-tu?"

Lois desperately recalled what she could of her French lessons in college.

"Je suis...Lois."

The grey wolf grunted, his expression unreadable in the moonlight.

"La Français?"

"Uh...Anglais?"

The wolf shook his head, and said something in his own language to his fellows. Lois wasn't sure what it was, but the two men gripped her arms tighter...and the grey wolf took out a flint dagger. Lois heart skipped a beat, measuring her options for escape...with his left hand, he grabbed her shirt, and with his right he brought down the knife. There was a hissing sound of ripping cloth as the sharpened stone cut easily through the white cloth of her shirt, and encountered only the barest of difficulties as it sliced through the front grasp of her bra.

Throwing the sundered garment open, Lois felt the cool night air on her bare breasts, and was glad it was too dark for her captors to see her blush. The grey wolf admired her pale orbs in the moonlight...and then his hands caught at the waist of her pants.