The Last Days of Krypton (25 page)

The visitor came to Argo
City in secret. After crossing one of the bridges, he arrived in the middle of the night and made his way toward Zor-El’s villa. Under his dark hood, he refused to reveal his identity, but insisted to the household sentry that the city leader would see him.

Zor-El dismissed the volunteer guards who had dutifully blocked the stranger’s entry. He frowned at the mysterious guest. “You can’t expect my guards to blithely let you enter as if you were an old friend.”

The man came into the light and pulled back the hood. “But I am an old friend.”

Zor-El was shocked to see the man’s haggard appearance, the haunted look in his reddened eyes, his sunken cheeks, as if he hadn’t slept or eaten well in days. “Tyr-Us! Why didn’t you inform me you were coming? What’s happened to you?”

“The same thing that will happen to all of us if we’re not careful.” He looked over his shoulder toward the sentries as if they couldn’t be trusted, toward the night as if something dangerous were after him. “Please let me inside. I need shelter, just for a little while.”

Zor-El hurried the man through the door as he snapped to his guards, “Make sure no one else enters my home. See that we’re not disturbed.” Their master’s abrupt reaction seemed to frighten them more than anything else.

Alura saw the troubled expression on her husband’s face, and quickly led him and Tyr-Us into a withdrawing room filled with exotic plants. She lit several solar crystals.

Tyr-Us stood weak and shaking in the middle of the room. He touched the enormous flowers with fingers that trembled with wonder. “It rejuvenates me to know that something is flourishing on Krypton while our government festers and rots.” He drew a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Tell me everything, Tyr-Us. When did you leave Corril? So many other noble sons have abruptly stepped out of public view. When I’d heard nothing from you in weeks, I thought maybe you had joined them.”

Tyr-Us’s eyes were wild. “I could have vanished, too! The Commissioner’s thugs have been following me. I saw dark figures in Corril walking down the metal streets, pretending to be visitors, but they all had those armbands Zod’s followers wear.”

“I’ve seen them in Argo City as well. I don’t like them.”

“Watch yourself, Zor-El—for they are certainly watching you. You should cast them out of your city before they cause further damage.”

Zor-El was disturbed by the suggestion. “I can’t just arrest them and say that their views are forbidden, no matter how fanatical they may seem. That would turn me into a dictator as bad as you claim Zod is.”

Alura picked a flower and pushed it into Tyr-Us’s face. “Smell this.” Involuntarily, the shaken man drew a quick breath, and the stimulant perfume made him stand straighter. “Eat these.” She held out two berries, one blue and one red.

“What do they do? Will they drug me?”

“No, they will strengthen you.”

Eyes narrowed, Tyr-Us looked at the berries. “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know I can trust anyone today, even the two of you?”

Zor-El grabbed the man’s arm. “You know you can trust me because you
know
me. What has changed you so much? You’re frightening us.”

“You should be frightened! Do you know how many others have disappeared? Shor-Em has been attacked twice, but managed to drive off the assault. His guards were unable to capture or interrogate the ones who struck out at him. Fully fourteen of us who spoke out against Zod have ‘retired,’ and no one has heard from them again. Think of it, Zor-El. You know it makes no sense.”

“Yes, I was surprised to hear that Gil-Ex had decided to support Zod. It made no sense after everything he’d been saying.”

“You know he was a vain and self-righteous man. Do you think Gil-Ex would just quietly hide himself? Never. I am the son of Council Head Jul-Us, and I should have had a seat on the Council someday. So should you, Zor-El.”

“I have Argo City.”

“You won’t if Zod takes it away from you.” Tyr-Us finally ate the two berries and sighed. He looked at Alura. “I’m sorry to have distrusted you.”

Two staff members brought in a hurriedly prepared meal and a large pitcher of herbal tea that Alura brewed for its strengthening properties. Tyr-Us was startled by the unexpected servants and looked as if he might bolt, but Zor-El took the tray of food and quickly dismissed the helpers.

The haggard man sat down on a bench surrounded by lush herbs, shaking his head miserably. “The risk increases with every person who sees me. Just by being here, I increase the danger to you both.”

“Tell me more after you’ve eaten.” Zor-El nudged the plates closer.

Tyr-Us seemed queasy and apparently uninterested, but once he tasted the food, he ate so ravenously that Zor-El feared he might become sick.

“You haven’t supported Zod and his overthrow of the true Krypton government,” Tyr-Us said between bites. “But you’ve been careful not to openly oppose him, either.”

“Shor-Em thinks I should have done so long ago, but I had my own disaster here, remember. Argo City still has much rebuilding to do.”

“If you had resoundingly supported our claims, you’d quite possibly be dead like all the others—like I am soon to be.”

“Nonsense!” Alura said. “You can stay here. We will protect you.”

“You can’t protect me, and I’ll only endanger you if I stay here. I won’t do that.” He looked up at Zor-El. “You are my friend, an ally. If we don’t organize all of our supporters, soon Zod will have the whole planet in his grip. He’ll do whatever he wants, and I believe he wants a war. If we ever receive another alien visitor like Donodon, Zod is likely to open fire just to test all the new destructive toys he’s creating.”

“You must be exaggerating. What proof do you have?”

“His agents continue to destroy all proof and silence any criticism. Can you afford to take the risk that I might be wrong? I need to hide, but I have to go somewhere they won’t think to find me.”

As Tyr-Us looked down at his empty plate, Zor-El had an idea. “There’s an isolated dacha in the hills near my old family estate. My father lived the last years of his life there, but he died recently. My mother abandoned the house and came to live here in Argo City. No one goes there. No one would find you. You’d be safe, and you would put no one else at risk.”

Tyr-Us’s face lit up. “Are you certain?”

“We insist,” Alura said.

Their guest suddenly became anxious again. “But you must not tell your brother. Jor-El is conspiring with Zod. He’s helping him to conquer the world.”

Zor-El scowled. “My brother is working for the good of Krypton. He always does.”

“But he cooperates with the Commissioner. Many have seen it.”

“Jor-El is a good man who has no interest in politics whatsoever.”

“Zod may well be fooling him!”

Zor-El held up his hands. “My brother is not easily fooled, and Commissioner Zod
did
step up to lead the people during the crisis…which is more than Gil-Ex or anyone else did.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, I will keep your secret. You have my promise.”

The gaunt man nodded, relieved.

“We will find a place for you to sleep,” Alura said. “We’ll pack up some clean clothes and any supplies you need.”

“It would be good to wash…and rest.”

Zor-El led him to a room reserved for guests, and Tyr-Us was so exhausted that he fell asleep as soon as he collapsed onto the blankets. Without disturbing him, Zor-El and Alura set out clean garments and towels. Cleansing crystals in the adjacent bathing room would be ready for him whenever he chose….

But the next morning when Zor-El went to check on his guest, Tyr-Us was gone. The desperate man must have taken the clothes, washed quickly, and slipped away without anyone seeing him. He left no note, no indication that he had ever been there—presumably to protect them.

Alura stared at the empty bed, the dirty clothes in a pile on the floor, which they would have to destroy. “Do you think he was abducted? Those people following him, did they get to him in our house? Past our guards?”

“Now you sound as paranoid as he did.” Zor-El shook his head, ashamed at his sharp tone. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to belittle his concerns. Those other disappearances, especially Gil-Ex, are very suspicious. We’ll have to keep watch on our own streets, step up the civilian guard to make sure you and I stay safe. I really don’t know what to think about Commissioner Zod.”

Later that morning, he received a surprise message from his brother. Jor-El wore a glad expression, and his blue eyes glittered. “Zor-El, I have good news! Just as I promised, I convinced Commissioner Zod to let us take action about the core buildup. Thanks to your data, he’s agreed to allow the two of us to begin work on a massive project.” From the communication plate, Jor-El grinned. “He will supply materials, manpower—anything we need.”

Zor-El was taken aback, especially in light of Tyr-Us’s dire warnings about the Commissioner. Though he had suspicions, he could not turn down a chance like this. He knew the danger in the planet’s core, and saving the planet was more important than politics. “And what does he propose we do?”

“That’s up to us. I have an approach we might take. Come and work with me. We can get started right away.”

Zor-El remained silent after his brother had terminated the transmission, filled with conflicting thoughts.

Alura stood behind him, having listened to the entire message. “What are you going to do? Can you trust Zod, considering what Tyr-Us said?”

“I’ll reserve judgment and see for myself if there are any strings attached to this offer. But I have to put the fate of Krypton above everything else. If the Commissioner means to prove that he’s different from the old Council, and he’s willing to let me do what I
know
has to be done, how can I let politics get in the way? We’re talking about the end of the world.”

From memory, Jor-El redrew his
plans for the Rao beam, which he had surrendered to the Commission long ago. Each subsystem, the gem-like concentrator, the beam focuser, the tall open-framed support derrick—everything came back to him. Now that he applied himself, he even made improvements to the original design, and this time the Commission for Technology Acceptance would not censor his idea.

Before even discussing the overall plan with his brother, Jor-El dispatched construction teams up into the mountains overlooking the Kandor valley. Excavators plowed a road up to the highest summit of the range, the perfect spot from which to perform the high-energy drilling project. From the peak, the vantage offered an unobstructed view of the deep, ugly scar where the capital city had been gouged out, leaving an incredibly deep hole.

When Zor-El finally arrived from Argo City, the dark-haired man was taken aback to see how much Jor-El had already completed. “I thought we would be working on this together—sharing theories, calculations, designs.”

Jor-El couldn’t believe his brother’s attitude. “When did this become a competition?”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“Good. I don’t care about glory or awards. I simply want to stop the core buildup, and I didn’t think you would want me to waste any time. Haven’t we waited long enough already, or did you want to do things like the old Council?”

Zor-El was thrown off guard. Though he had a difficult time seeing past Tyr-Us’s frightened accusations, this was his brother. Jor-El was a powerful scientist with many brilliant ideas, and his one and only priority was science. He was not a conspirator. “Sorry I jumped to conclusions. Yes, let’s get this done before Zod changes his mind. What is your plan?”

Jor-El pointed down to the near-bottomless pit, explaining that the Rao beam was the only viable way to drill so deeply into the crust. “The thickness of the crust varies around the world, and here it’s relatively thin. By my measurements, the crater is already almost a kilometer deep. We can use that as a starting point.”

Zor-El studied the beam design and admitted that he could not have done better.

Jor-El continued, “The building quakes we keep feeling are the planet’s attempts to relieve pressure where the stresses are greatest and the crust is weakest, as are the volcanoes in the southern continent. But if we create a second release point here, we may—and I emphasize
may
—dampen the instabilities in the core.”

Zor-El scratched his dark hair, still thinking. “Have you given any thought to what happens once we start burning down into the mantle? How were you planning to hold the integrity of the shaft when the walls are melting in every direction?”

“That does pose a problem.”

Zor-El gave him a steely look. “You aren’t the only one who can invent things! Remember the powerful field I developed to protect my diamondfish probes? I expanded the concept to reinforce Argo City’s seawall after the recent tidal wave. We can use the same field to maintain the integrity of our drilling core.”

Jor-El’s eyebrows went up. “Like a protective liner?”

Zor-El’s hard expression broke into a smile. “You always understood me better than anyone else, Jor-El.”

“Great minds think alike,” he joked. “And Krypton certainly needs ‘great minds’ right now.”

“To act decisively—something the old Council could never do.”

Jor-El clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Then we should get drilling.”

The tent encampment and outlying settlements were now entirely abandoned, the last stragglers sent down to Kryptonopolis. Fortunate timing, because once the Rao beam drilled through the crust, the lush Kandor valley would become a disaster zone. The scientist No-Ton was on-site as Zod’s representative to observe the preparations, but the Ring member clearly felt out of his league, and left the decisions to Jor-El and his brother.

“We should calculate the projected magma outflow,” Jor-El said. “How much will we need to release in order to bring the unstable core back to safe levels?”

“According to the data I collected, the eruptions in the southern continent were too widespread, and the depth was incorrect.” In the days since gathering his data, Zor-El had completed extensive follow-up calculations. “By unleashing the magma here, though, we’ll do more good than a dozen eruptions down in the southern hemisphere.”

With the cooperation of numerous technicians and engineers and full access to any resources Jor-El requested, the Rao beam facility was completed with astonishing speed. On a high derrick atop the windy mountain peak, the intensifier crystals and lenses were ready to be aligned; once they were shifted into place, the crystals would focus the blinding, penetrating beam. Additional technical stations now occupied several nearby subpeaks, where huge collecting arrays of prisms and mirrors gathered the power of the great red sun each day.

White hair blowing in the stiff, cold breeze, Jor-El sat on a rocky outcropping near the control shack beside the high derrick, waiting for Rao to reach its zenith. “It’s time, Zor-El. Are you ready?”

“I’ve been advocating this for months. Let’s not stand on ceremony when Krypton could explode at any moment.”

Calling for help from No-Ton and the technicians, the two men shifted the lenses into alignment. Drawing from the sun and from the solar generators, the huge central crystal dangled like a pendant within the framework, glowing, charging, until it spat out a razor-sharp beam. Faster than an eyeblink, it struck the crater with pinpoint accuracy, hit the deep bottom, and began drilling into the crust.

A chimney plume of vaporized rock, steam, and smoke boiled upward. Debris flew in all directions; hot rocks showered down, and hellish smoke rose from the drilling site. Although Krypton’s straining core pressure demanded to be released, even the intense Rao beams would take days to penetrate the kilometers of crust to reach the molten mantle.

Hour after hour, the derrick shuddered with strain from the power output. The shaft burrowed deeper, and the two brothers waited side by side, watching from atop the summit.