The Last Days of Krypton (27 page)

The next day, the scarlet
beams shot downward again, and after four hours, the valley floor began to rumble. The detectors in the substations went wild. Jor-El ran to his brother. “We’re there!”

Zor-El went with him to the overlook and raised his viewing lenses to stare down into the Kandor valley. The Rao beams burned and burned. “Get ready. This is going to be spectacular.”

He was right.

The deep crater suddenly became the mouth of a cannon, firing a fusillade of blazing yellow-white lava into the sky. Propelled by all the power bottled up within the planet, the stream of magma squirted straight up, higher than the mountains, higher than the clouds—and it kept rising. Curiously, some of the lava had exotic emerald streaks, like green ribbons wound through the plume of liquid fire.

“Shut down the Rao beam!” Jor-El shouted to the awed technicians. When they didn’t move, he raced to the controls himself and swung aside the concentrating lens. The red energy bolt faded into the air, leaving only ripples of disturbance in its path.

The lava fountain continued to spew upward.

“If that column of lava reaches escape velocity, it will shoot all the way out of our atmosphere,” Jor-El said. “Depending on how long this stream lasts, we might soon have a ring of cooled rubble drifting around our planet.”

“Prepare for more meteor showers in the coming months,” Zor-El said.

Jor-El grinned as he mused, “If the debris field spreads out all through Krypton’s orbit, Zod will probably consider it another defense against invading alien ships.”

“Then make sure you explain that to him.”

Lightweight pebbles—more like foam than rock because of their many gas inclusions—began to patter all around them. As larger chunks started to crash to the ground, the technicians scrambled for shelter in the control huts. Zor-El dragged his brother into the nearest metal building, and from inside they listened to the staccato rattling on the roof, like a heavy hailstorm.

The lava continued to gush unabated for four days, and finally Zor-El’s seismic instruments indicated that Krypton’s core had begun to shift and relax, reaching a new and more stable equilibrium now that some of the pressure was released. Soon, when the fiery jet started to lose power, they would place a force-field cap on the core shaft to seal the lava geyser entirely.

Venturing down from the mountains to the perimeter of the debris field, Zor-El had taken samples of the unexpected green mineral to study, but its structure and the reason for its exotic transformation remained a mystery to him. “Our world is changing in ways that I cannot begin to explain.”

Jor-El looked out across the valley, where brushfires had burned away vegetation and rendered the once-verdant area as stark as the surface of a moon. “We’ve caused some of those changes ourselves, Zor-El. What are the global consequences of what we’ve done? With all the ash in the atmosphere, the climate will change, the weather patterns…”

His brother’s dark brows drew together. “Damage or destruction, those were our two choices. Now our planet will survive, thanks to what we’ve done. It may take centuries, but Krypton will recover.” He raised his eyebrows. “In fact, if your Commissioner is so intent on being our savior, he can demonstrate his goodwill by sending teams to reclaim the landscape.”

When Zod sent his congratulations and announced a procession from Kryptonopolis, Zor-El abruptly decided it was time for him to leave. His excuses were very transparent. “I’ve been away from Argo City and Alura for too long. Now that I know the planet won’t fall apart, I’ve got a city to run.”

“The Commissioner wants to issue a commendation to
both
of us. Neither of us cares about it—but if I have to endure it, then you have to be here, too. This is as much your triumph as mine.”

Zor-El seemed very anxious. “No, you can take full credit. Zod’s applause means nothing to me.”

“And when have I ever asked for accolades?”

“Jor-El, listen to me. I
don’t
want to stay, but you can use this to build your political capital. Someday you may need to make a request of Zod. Make sure he understands the debt he owes you.”

On the high mountain peaks, the winds were always cold, despite the gushing lava geyser that continued to blast into the sky. Zod’s celebratory procession arrived, accompanied by Aethyr, Nam-Ek, and a military escort. Jor-El watched the convoy of levitating vehicles wind their way up the crushed-rock roadway to reach the compound. He hoped to catch sight of Lara among them, but apparently she had remained behind in Kryptonopolis. He couldn’t guess whether or not that had been her own choice.

By the time the group gathered near the tall derrick, Zod had had plenty of time to view the spectacular magma plume. He nodded solemnly. “This is most impressive, Jor-El.”

Ferret-faced Koll-Em, the only member of the Ring of Strength who had come along, bustled to the cliff edge to survey the devastated valley. “It’s spectacular! No other city leader would have dared to launch such a demonstration of power.” He spun around to grin at Zod.

“It was a scientific imperative,” Jor-El said. “
Not
a demonstration of power.”

Koll-Em didn’t seem to understand the distinction. “My brother could never have conceived a project of this scope or this urgency! You have saved the world, Commissioner.”

Zod stroked his neat beard. “Is that what I’ve done, Jor-El? Saved the world?”

“Well, you…” For a moment the scientist didn’t know how to answer. “By granting us your permission and backing for this work, you did something the former Council never could have managed. Our preliminary seismic readings suggest that the critical pressure is rapidly decreasing. So, yes, it would seem the world is saved.”

“Good. You’ve already instructed No-Ton on how to seal the geyser when the time comes, haven’t you?” When Jor-El nodded, Zod ordered the rest of the technical team to remain behind and monitor the lava geyser for the time being. He beamed at Jor-El. “Now that you’re satisfied Krypton is safe, you can devote yourself to matters of more immediate importance. I believe there is a great deal of work—not to mention your lovely new wife—waiting for you in Kryptonopolis.”

As he left the mountain
installation long before the Commissioner’s entourage arrived, Zor-El had more than one reason to be uneasy. On the last day of drilling, No-Ton had made an offhand comment that Tyr-Us had also withdrawn his objections to Zod’s rule, and then—like so many others—had “retired from public view.”

Zor-El could not forget the genuine terror on the distraught man’s face when he’d come to Argo City late at night. Tyr-Us would never have changed his mind. Never. Something was very wrong.

Anxious to be away, and oddly reluctant to express his true fears to his brother, Zor-El had departed from the mountains on his personal transport platform, but he did not return immediately to Argo City. Instead, he made a long detour westward to his parents’ empty dacha in the foothills. He clung to the hope that Tyr-Us had simply dropped out of sight and that opportunistic Zod had fabricated a story to suit his own plans. If he could bring Tyr-Us out of hiding, Zor-El could prove that the Commissioner was lying.

He traveled the cleared paths in the blackwood forest and followed a creek into the heavily wooded dell where the familiar dacha stood. When he stepped off the flying platform and approached, he found the rustic house dark, the garden overgrown, the windows shuttered, much as his mother had left it when she’d gone with him and Alura back to Argo City. Although she had never complained about the years spent tending her catatonic husband, Zor-El knew his mother was relieved to be part of a community again.

He moved cautiously closer, in case a paranoid Tyr-Us had installed traps or warning devices. “Hello!” he called, going up to the door. “It’s Zor-El. I’m alone.” He waited, heard nothing. “Tyr-Us, are you there?”

The dacha remained silent. He tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. The latch was broken. Someone had forcibly entered, smashing part of the door, even though Zor-El had told Tyr-Us how to access the key. On the porch he found a gouge in the wood and a stain that might have been blood.

Alert for danger, Zor-El stepped inside. The house was dim, dusty, and utterly silent.

“Tyr-Us?” he called again, but it was a pointless exercise. One of the chairs was overturned. A cabinet door hung halfway open. The air itself seemed to shout of a violent struggle. In the slanted light he spotted an indentation in the wall, a splintered patch on the floor his mother had always kept so immaculate. A tiny scrap of torn fabric lay in a corner.

This dacha should have been a safe haven for Tyr-Us. Zor-El had promised the man a sanctuary.

But someone had found him anyway.

Someone had made him disappear.

Zod.

Zor-El clenched his fists. For his brother’s sake, he had tried to give the Commissioner the benefit of the doubt, but now there could be no question of the man’s guilt. All of the outrageous and ridiculous-sounding claims Tyr-Us had made must be true.

In a cold voice, Zor-El muttered, “Today you have made a very serious enemy, Commissioner Zod.”

Since being asked to write
the official history according to Zod, Lara had spent days collecting her notes and her thoughts. She vowed to record her chronicle accurately and faithfully, regardless of what the Commissioner wanted.

In her student days, she had read and analyzed enough ancient epics and archaeological texts to know that would-be historians often colored their accounts, and later generations found it difficult to separate reality from wishful thinking. She wasn’t going to do that. Hers would be a balanced perspective.

It was true that the old Council had caused the long stagnation of Krypton, and Lara did not intend to show them in a favorable light. It was true that after the disastrous loss of Kandor, Zod had been the only one to act swiftly and decisively. He had set up the refugee camp and within months had begun to construct a new capital. In that respect, Lara could not argue with his results.

It was also true, though, that the Commissioner had simply declared himself the absolute ruler of Krypton. Despite protestations from other nobles and city leaders, he refused to form a legitimate new Council, declined to listen to any advisers but his handpicked Ring of Strength. That wasn’t right, either, and she would not excuse it in her account.

She had reviewed the angry charges issued by Shor-Em, Gil-Ex, Tyr-Us, and other outspoken dissidents. The disappearance of so many critics seemed too convenient, too coincidental. Zod’s refusal to let Lara speak with them only strengthened her suspicions….

She didn’t know how to proceed.

Five days ago, Jor-El had returned from the drilling site, pleased and relieved that he and his brother had resolved the most serious threat to Krypton. Most of the population still did not know the scope of the ecological devastation caused by the lava geyser, and sooner or later there was bound to be a tremendous outcry. Zod didn’t seem to think it would be a problem.

Back in the capital, he kept Jor-El busy with numerous projects, though sometimes her husband disagreed with the priorities and insisted on doing other work that he considered more important. So far the Commissioner hadn’t pressed the issue, but Lara could tell the man was displeased.

Early one morning, before Jor-El set out to measure the intrinsic flaws in his newly grown crystal towers, Aethyr sent a priority message instructing them to come to the Square of Hope. “Zod is making a historic announcement. You’ll want to record it in your chronicle, Lara.” On the communication plate Aethyr’s smile revealed brilliantly white teeth. “I’m so glad you’re with us, on our side.” Lara found it very difficult to take the compliment at face value.

Curious, she and Jor-El made their way across the bright new city. Hundreds had already gathered for Zod’s grand announcement, whatever it was. Nam-Ek intercepted the two of them and cleared a path through the crowd to where Aethyr waited. “Come! Lara and Jor-El, you have a place of honor.”

All sixteen members of the Ring of Strength had taken prominent positions near the speaking stage. Behind Zod, a tall, monolithic object stood in the middle of the square shrouded in opaque fabric. Lara stared, wondering when that thing had been moved into place.

After an excited hush fell over the crowd, Zod stepped to a podium in front of the shrouded object. He spoke in a booming voice. “Kryptonians, we must build landmarks rather than leave scars like the crater of Kandor.” He turned meaningfully to the tall draped object, and the crowd’s anticipation was palpable. “We must show any ill-informed enemy the face of our greatness.”

Zod raised a hand sharply, and burly Sapphire Guards pulled the cables attached to the tarpaulin. The fabric fell away to reveal a massive statue, a towering noble figure with the defiant yet paternal face of the Commissioner himself. “Behold Zod!”

Jor-El stared at Lara in complete surprise. “Is this one of your art projects? Did you create this?”

“I didn’t even know about it.” Lara felt a chill that the man’s ego would allow him to commission such a work. Zod must have kept this from her, and it could only have been intentional.

But the rest of the crowd had no misgivings. Prompted by the Ring of Strength, the audience began chanting, “Zod! Zod! Zod!”

He smiled confidently, letting the shouts and cheers wash over him. Finally he raised both hands for silence. He had an even bigger announcement to make. Taking Aethyr by the hand, he drew her up to stand with him. “This woman has been my partner, my adviser, and my confidante during our greatest tribulations. There can be no more perfect companion for me, nor for Krypton. And so today I accept Aethyr as my formal consort.”

“Now that’s another surprise,” Jor-El said quietly against the background of cheering. “Do you think they love each other?”

“They are definitely cast from the same mold.” Lara wanted to be happy for her friend, but her heart felt torn. Everything about Zod and Aethyr’s relationship was different from what she and Jor-El shared. And yet those two also seemed inseparable….

Zod had to shout to make his words heard over the din. “Not long ago, I was privileged to perform the marriage ceremony of two of Krypton’s greatest citizens, Jor-El and Lara.” He gestured toward the two of them, and the crowd dutifully applauded. “But who could possibly perform such a ceremony for me, for the leader of Krypton?” He spread his hands as if genuinely asking the audience for an answer. But he responded to his own question. “Aethyr and I have spoken our own vows to each other. I, Zod, hereby declare that we are legally and officially wed.” He and Aethyr raised their hands in the air, then looked directly at Lara. “Let history record our union for all future generations to know.”

Jor-El was startled by the presumptuous act, and a few members of the audience muttered, more in confusion at the unorthodox wedding than in outrage. Before the puzzled uneasiness could turn to expressions of disquiet at the implied arrogance of the announcement, Zod whistled.

A loud and brassy fanfare sounded from high windows in the rebuilt government structures. Doorways burst open and a parade of brightly clothed servants marched out carrying platters of fine foods: steaming meats, rich pastries, fruits and soft candies on skewers. Four graceful fountains recently placed at cardinal points around the square gurgled, then gushed a sparkling ruby liquid—wine from the storehouses.

The crowd laughed in disbelief at this unexpected largesse. Zod continued, “It has been far too long since Krypton had reason to celebrate, far too long since we cheered and feasted. Let our wedding day become a magnificent memory for everyone.”

The people crowded forward to partake of the treats.

Stunned, Lara held on to Jor-El’s arm.

Now formally married, Zod and Aethyr spent the long hours of darkness together in their shared palatial quarters. It was an unusual wedding night, as filled with schemes as it was with passion. They were kindred spirits, and sharing the future held far more than mere romance.

Their government palace was cluttered with hangings, paintings, and ornate furniture. This was not because Zod had any personal need for opulence (especially since Aethyr herself cared little about baubles and luxurious possessions), but because the ruler of Krypton was expected to live in ostentatious surroundings.

As they lay together on rumpled sheets of glistening websilk, Zod was both exhausted and energized by their passion and their shared dreams. He did indeed consider himself the savior of Krypton, despite the constant troubling complaints from the remaining gadflies.

Aethyr rolled over and studied his expression for a long moment. “You are bothered by something. I can tell.”

“I pay little attention to the other would-be leaders. We’ve removed most of the loudest ones, and look how much stronger Krypton has become. What troubles me more, though, is that I’ve been sensing a certain hesitation in Lara. I watched her expression when we unveiled my statue. She did not seem altogether impressed.”

Aethyr propped herself up on one elbow. “That’s not surprising. Your statue is central to the Square of Hope, just as Jax-Ur’s statue once was. We placed Lara in charge of the city’s greatest artwork, and you left her out of the project. I would certainly be miffed if you ever did something like that to me.”

“She has her history to write, and that is her priority.” Zod let out a troubled sigh. “And sometimes Jor-El makes me uneasy, too. He does not follow my cause with his heart. He did not join us out of loyalty as you did, my dear, or the way Nam-Ek does.”

She chuckled. “Nam-Ek would follow you off a precipice. He has no opinion about the politics involved.”

“I once thought the same of Jor-El. Oh, he rationalizes his cooperation, but that can change. He thinks for himself—too much, I fear.”

Aethyr snuggled closer, put her arms around Zod’s neck, and stroked his face. “Jor-El is an extremely intelligent man with a strong moral code. He’s probably guessed that you’re hiding things from him.”

“You’re right. I will have to watch him closely.”