The Last Days of Krypton (24 page)

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Authors: Kevin J. Anderson

BOOK: The Last Days of Krypton
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On the night before Jor-El
was to return, Commissioner Zod summoned his people to the former Execution Square, which he had renamed the Square of Hope. It was time to give his faithful followers another cause for celebration.

“Today we christen Krypton’s new capital. Xan City is a mark of the past, a reminder of lost glory. Our new city, though built on the rubble of a once-powerful empire, must stand for our whole planet, our entire people.” He looked around, scanning the faces. “Therefore, I name it…
Kryptonopolis.

With encouragement from the Ring members, as well as the diligent Sapphire Guards, the audience started to cheer. The Commissioner smiled at them all, reveling in their acceptance.

A voice shouted out from the crowd. “Why not name it Zod City, while you’re at it? You’ve usurped everything else.”

The crowd drew a quick gasp, turning to see who had spoken. An obviously agitated man stepped forward, long yellow hair streaming from both sides of his bald pink scalp. A long walrus mustache dangled down on either side of his mouth, giving him an absurd appearance. His robes bore a bold X-shaped crest denoting his proud noble family. Zod recognized him.

With a quiet hand signal, the Commissioner held back an angry Nam-Ek; the Sapphire Guards remained alert, ready to act. Zod spoke brightly, feigning welcome. “Gil-Ex, you have finally decided to leave your soft cushions and delicate banquet barges in Orvai! We can always use more help, even from one of the pampered older nobles. Join us at our real work. We can train you to do something practical for a change.” Some members of the audience chuckled. “I only wish Shor-Em and Tyr-Us would also come to help, rather than complaining from their distant manor houses.”

The mustached man scowled, and his pink scalp turned red. “I didn’t come to join your efforts, Zod. I came to talk sense into the rest of these people.” He looked around. “I want them to see what you’re doing to our proud heritage. They don’t want to live under a dictatorship!”

Listening to the undertone of murmurs from the crowd, Zod knew the people were on his side. He had trained them well, demonstrated his capabilities. And more and more joined him every day, though he knew that an annoying resistance kept growing like noxious weeds in towns and settlements where he didn’t have sufficient control. Yet.

“Gil-Ex, these people can see quite well what I’ve been doing. That’s why they are helping me. Open your eyes and look at what we’ve accomplished already! We work together as a team to make Krypton strong instead of frightened and weak. The old Council kept us defenseless. None of these good people wants that again, no matter what ineffective form of government you hope they will accept.”

Gil-Ex sniffed. “True Kryptonians can see through your lies, Zod. They remember what is right and true about our civilization, and they won’t let it be lost.” He turned to the rest of the crowd, raising one knobby fist. “All of you, join me! You must reject the tyranny of Zod and his unjust seizure of power.”

Koll-Em called out with withering scorn, “We’re quite familiar with what the likes of you considered ‘right and true about our civilization.’ No thank you!”

From his assigned position in the crowd, Da-Es shouted out. “We know what dreams Commissioner Zod has for us. We prefer to follow dreams rather than delusions.”

“Have you actually
been
to the crater of Kandor, Gil-Ex?” bellowed muscular Mon-Ra from another part of the crowd. “Have you witnessed firsthand how much destruction our outside enemies can bring against us? Have you bothered?”

Gil-Ex sidestepped the question. “We all know what happened there. I have no need to see for myself. I doubt my heart could bear it—”

“What’s the matter? Afraid to get your hands dirty?” jeered Koll-Em. “You complain about Zod, but what have
you
done to protect us?” called Ran-Ar, another Ring member.

The Ring of Strength continued to rile up the audience, and the crowd’s mood turned ugly. It took Gil-Ex several moments to realize that he had chosen the wrong venue for his speech. Zod allowed the anger to simmer until it reached the point where he thought he might lose control. He didn’t want them to turn into a mob against this one man, because such extreme reactions might provide the other dissidents with ammunition against him. Worst of all, it could make Gil-Ex into a martyr.

“Please, calm yourselves! This place is the Square of Hope. Here we cherish all that was best about Krypton—including the right to free speech, even when a person states something so patently absurd. Gil-Ex, these people do not support your opinion. I am disheartened by your stubborn refusal to recognize my good intentions. I cannot understand what I’ve done that causes you to object so vehemently, but I will hear you out. Maybe we can come to a meeting of minds.” He extended his hand, sounding so cordial. “Come, we will talk in my tent.”

Gil-Ex saw that he had no choice but to agree.

 

The next day, after Gil-Ex was gone—though no one had seen him leave—Zod issued a happy pronouncement. “The two of us spoke far into the night, and Gil-Ex finally realized his misunderstanding. Since he had isolated himself from the true effects of our tragedy, he was sadly ignorant of our planet’s need. He had listened to lies and distortions from power-hungry men trying to cast doubt on our great work.” Zod feigned a smile. Passion and sincerity oozed from him with every word. “When he realized that his own well-intentioned comments may have hindered the recovery of Krypton, Gil-Ex was in tears.”

Zod’s listeners absorbed this dramatic and unsettling turnabout. They had followed the Commissioner to an empty, ruined city and had sworn their allegiance to him and his grand plans for Krypton. Because they themselves were wholeheartedly convinced, it wasn’t unreasonable to believe that Gil-Ex had changed his mind, too. Some workers accepted the explanation with more caution than others did, but all of them gave Zod the benefit of the doubt.

The Commissioner put on his most sincere expression. “I had hoped Gil-Ex would become my ally, but I accept his decision to withdraw from public life. He wants the rest of us to continue without the shadow of his previous accusations.” He bowed his head, barely able to hide his satisfied smile.

Over the next few days, other outspoken dissidents disappeared from isolated towns and villages, each leaving behind a heartfelt note of explanation. Some admitted shame, and many urged the people of Krypton to follow Zod.

He knew that even among his own followers a few might not believe the convenient stories. Outside, some people were bound to express their suspicions, claim evidence of conspiracies…and his own people would make such comments sound ridiculous. There would always be complaints, but complaints could be dealt with.

And so the Commissioner moved forward with fewer roadblocks. The construction of Kryptonopolis continued.

After a rushed two days,
Jor-El returned from the arctic carrying seed crystal chips he had cut from the key spires of Yar-El’s wondrous palace of solitude. From his laboratory at the lonely estate he took the catalysts he needed, metallic powders and liquid impurities that would be drawn into the lattice as the great towers grew.

The manor house, the research building, the mysterious tower that still held Donodon’s spaceship—all were quiet and empty. As he surveyed the grounds, an eerie sense of déjà vu reminded him of the abandoned ruins of Xan City. Jor-El felt very alone without Lara….

While he was there, he received a message from Argo City. Zor-El appeared flushed, both exuberant and angry. “I have the data, Jor-El. The accumulated readings are exactly what I expected,
exactly
what I saw before. The core buildup is progressing with astonishing speed, and a planetary explosion is imminent, possibly in less than a year!”

“Unless we do something,” Jor-El said. He remembered how easily the Commissioner had approved his plans for the listening outpost.
I trust you to do what is best for Krypton, Jor-El.
“I will make Zod listen. Don’t worry, Zor-El. We will take the necessary action.”

 

Back in Kryptonopolis, he found Lara happily working with a crew of artisans to install the panels of an intricate frieze along the lintel of a government building. He watched her unobtrusively for a moment, his heart full of love for her. When she noticed him, Lara ran forward, wiping a smear of paint from her cheek. She excitedly told him how Aethyr and Zod had asked her to participate in the resurrection of the capital city. She felt it was a job to which she was immensely well suited.

Lara had expressed her doubts about the Commissioner’s intentions, but Zod seemed to have won her over by giving her this grand project. Much the same way, he realized, as Zod had ingratiated himself to Jor-El by allowing him free rein to conduct the research he had always wanted to do. Tempting Jor-El with unfettered science and Lara with a history-making art project. He could see that the Commissioner was a very effective manipulator, but the man was also sincere in his passion. He and Lara had not seen any more altruism from any of the outspoken city leaders.

Taking the dark bag that contained the seed crystal chips he had harvested, he met with Commissioner Zod and three members of the Ring of Strength inside the government palace. On blueprint films, Jor-El described the structures he could create with the materials he’d found, and how much of the landscape they would dominate. “Once I trigger the accelerated process, the chain reaction of crystal growth will occur without any further guidance from me. I need to get it right the first time.”

The Commissioner’s eyes had a bright gleam. “I am anxious to get started.”

Jor-El shook his head. “We’ve got to wait until nightfall to do our preparations. The seed crystals must remain covered until everything is ready. Once they’re exposed to light, the chain reaction begins.”

Zod glanced up at the deepening sky color through the tentlike fabric that covered the damaged ceiling. “Rao will set soon. Tomorrow, Kryptonopolis will no longer be my dream, but a shining reality.”

 

In the dark of the night Jor-El set out his seed crystals at the four corners of the Square of Hope and atop Lookout Hill at the outskirts of the ancient city. He positioned each brittle seed carefully, measured, checked, and double-checked. Zod, Aethyr, and Nam-Ek accompanied him, watching every step of the process, their excitement tangible in the cooling night air.

An hour before midnight, Jor-El added the catalysts and liquid impurities, checked the angles and positioning yet again, and stepped back, satisfied. “Tomorrow,” he told them, “be here exactly at sunrise.”

The next day, when he and Lara arrived in the Square of Hope in the predawn darkness, Zod was already there, pacing impatiently. Nam-Ek stood motionless, as big as a statue; aloof, Aethyr lounged on a new stone bench. No-Ton and Koll-Em also joined them, rubbing their sleepy eyes.

The colors presaging sunrise flooded across the eastern sky. “Any minute now,” Jor-El said. The air was thick with anticipation.

The roiling red fringe of Rao rose above the horizon, spilling crimson light across the landscape. When the first rays struck the seed crystals, the reaction was instantaneous. At the four corners of the Square of Hope the first crystals began to sparkle. Energized by the sunlight, they drank in the catalyst powders like dry sponges absorbing a flood.

A hexagonal spire shot upward, four times the size of the original crystal, and it kept growing, thickening. It spread out subsidiary crystal branches that followed the design Jor-El had programmed into the base lattice. The extraordinary rush of growth made a thunderous cracking and popping sound. Perfectly symmetrical with the upreaching spire, the crystal’s anchor root plunged downward, drawing more material from the rocks and soil. Stone paving tiles at the square’s perimeter buckled and broke.

At all four corners of the square, shining spires seemed to be competing with one another as they raced toward the sky, rapidly dwarfing the other structures in Kryptonopolis. On Lookout Hill outside the city, a fifth gleaming tower rose higher and higher.

Commissioner Zod’s face showed deep satisfaction. Nam-Ek reacted with childish glee as the components continued to erupt and unfold like a puzzle made of diamonds and emeralds. By the time Rao had risen fully, the red giant shone down upon an entirely new city.

“This does indeed rival Kandor!” Zod clasped the scientist’s shoulders. “You have done everything I expected—and more. I knew you would not let me down. Krypton owes you a debt greater than I can ever repay.”

Jor-El seized the moment. He had been considering how to bring up the matter. “Then it’s now my turn to ask you a favor, Commissioner. It is vitally important to our planet’s survival.”

Zod’s eyes took on a calculating look; then his expression shifted again. “You have never asked for any kind of boon before. If it is within my power to grant…”

“As you know, my brother discovered dangerous instabilities in the core of our planet. The Council refused to take any action until Zor-El provided them with extensive data.”

Zod nodded slowly, cautiously. “Yes, I was present when you and your brother made those claims. And the Council, as usual, chose to ignore problems rather than address them.” His voice held a heavy undertone of caution.

“We’ve all experienced the increasingly severe quakes. More than one tidal wave has struck the coast, and massive volcanic eruptions continue in the southern continent. The core pressure is still growing—and now I do have a full set of data. The situation is precisely as bad as I feared. Trust me, Commissioner. The evidence is indisputable.”

He could see Zod trying to decide how to respond. “Even if I accept your warning, what can we do about it?”

Jor-El’s words came in a breathless rush. “I’ve been thinking about the old prototypes I submitted to your Commission. Do you remember an intense cutting laser I called a Rao beam? At the time I felt it would be useful for boring tunnels through mountains, for mining, and for construction. Your Commission decided it was too risky.” He lowered his voice to a grumble. “As usual.”

Zod tapped his fingers together, fully focused on Jor-El rather than on the still-growing crystal spires behind them. “I seem to recall it. But if the plans were confiscated, what will you do now? Start again from scratch?”

Jor-El gave him a wry smile. “Commissioner, just because you took my drawings and destroyed my prototypes doesn’t mean that the
idea
is destroyed.” He tapped his temple. “Every invention I ever created, every design and every process is right here, in my head. I remember them all perfectly.”

Zod took a moment to process the startling revelation. “Intriguing.” He nodded slowly to himself, then responded with a thin smile, as if he had suddenly decided on a different strategy for playing this game. “And could your Rao beam also be configured as a weapon? Something we could fire at attacking alien ships if they should come against us? It would help the defense of Krypton.”

Jor-El considered. “I suppose. Once the Rao-beam generator is erected, installed, and calibrated, I see no reason why its target point couldn’t be shifted.”

“And if I allow you to build this Rao beam, I presume you intend to drill some sort of shaft through the crust? Like a pressure-release valve?”

“That is the theory. The best drilling site may be the crater of Kandor, though the project will cause substantial damage to the area. There’s no way around it—”

“That doesn’t concern me. Kandor is already a no-man’s-land. Best to put it to some use,” Zod said. “But I am more troubled by the fact that your own brother has been less than accepting of me. Perhaps if Zor-El issued a statement of wholehearted support for me from Argo City?”

Jor-El wanted to snap at the Commissioner for worrying more about personal politics than the fate of the whole world. “Then show him that you’re completely different from the weak Council. With your leadership, Commissioner, we can prevent a worldwide disaster. Aren’t you the man who swore to take any action necessary to protect us?”

Aethyr leaned close to the Commissioner with a strangely hungry look in her eyes. She said in a quiet, breathy voice, “Zod…the savior of Krypton.”

He seemed to like the sound of that very much.

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