The Last Days of Krypton (33 page)

Looking down at the contoured
gel model of Argo City in his war room, Zod couldn’t hide his pleasure. “Intriguing. This presents a strategic nightmare for them. We can easily cut off the whole peninsula, and Zor-El will have to capitulate.”

Aethyr shrugged. “Then our victory is a foregone conclusion. The only question is how long the siege will last.”

Nam-Ek looked down at the three-dimensional model, as if memorizing the miniaturized terrain. Zod had also studied reports from informants, including many of his original supporters who had been ousted from the city.

“Argo City is basically an island, connected to the mainland only by this thin strip of land, a bottleneck. We can blockade the city with a relatively small number of troops and equipment. These five bridges”—Zod traced the gentle arcs that led across the narrow bay from Argo City to the mainland—“are strategic weak points. Our soldiers can capture and hold them, effectively amputating the rebels from the rest of the world.”

“There’s the ocean on the other side,” Aethyr pointed out. “They have docks and boats.”

“But where can they go—fishing? They have no navy, no warships.” He pursed his lips. “But you make a valid point, and I prefer to be thorough. Maybe I should deploy aquatic craft so we cut them off from the ocean as well.” Nam-Ek grinned; Zod could tell he was eager to see the boats. “None of the new structures they’ve built since the tsunami are proof against attack. We can bottle them up just like Kandor and then begin our bombardment. Once the way is clear, our army will invade the city.”

“Why don’t you just build a new Rao beam?” Koll-Em looked hungry to see another swift cleansing blast.

“Destruction is easy but there is little satisfaction in it. What kind of conquest leaves nothing but rubble? I am the savior of Krypton, not its destroyer.” He smiled wryly at his twisting of the words Jor-El had spoken. “The victory is much greater if I bring Argo City under my rule. That city is like a jewel in a crown.”

All the construction crews in Kryptonopolis had been reassigned to the task of strengthening General Zod’s impressive army. Technicians assembled large numbers of conventional weapons. His own scientists and engineers were swiftly redesigning and refitting normal vehicles. Teams worked round the clock to convert large construction crawlers into armored artillery launchers and siege vehicles; floating passenger platforms were transformed into troop transports.

The Sapphire Guards and the Ring of Strength recruited, even coerced, every one of Zod’s able-bodied followers to undergo weapons training, don uniforms, and join the great campaign. The army could cross the continent and be at Zor-El’s doorstep within a week after they mobilized.

Three days later Zod’s assembled armies gathered outside of Kryptonopolis, ready to march. Jor-El observed the fanfare with skepticism. Were these people truly so excited to go attack another sovereign city? Had they been so duped by Zod’s delusions? Yes, he realized; they probably had. By now, anyone who had openly expressed disapproval had been quietly reassigned elsewhere…or had vanished entirely. The rest demonstrated their enthusiasm, or at least made a good show of it.

Jor-El stood alone, his emotions balanced between anger and helplessness. He ached for Lara, knowing she was a hostage to ensure his cooperation, and he could do nothing about it. His love for her had made him vulnerable. Fortunately, it also made him strong. If she’d had longer to talk with him, Lara would no doubt have insisted that Jor-El forget about her, and do what was right and necessary.

He vowed to save her. He would also save Krypton. There was no other option.

Wearing his crisp new uniform with the hauteur of a man in complete control, Zod marched up to Jor-El. His voice was low and taunting. “No matter what gadgets or defenses your brother might have concocted, Argo City cannot stand against me.”

“My brother is an intelligent man. He may surprise you.”

“Ah, but my armies were equipped by an even more intelligent man.” Zod smiled. “I was able to use the designs of the great Jor-El himself.” He made a gesture.

At the edge of the city, large warehouse buildings opened up, their heavy doors sliding into recessed ceilings to expose hangars filled with military equipment. Armored machines emerged, some crawling on heavy treads or thick wheels, others hovering above the ground with levitation pads. Jor-El struggled to grasp what he was seeing. The vehicles were loaded with missile launchers, ray projectors, thermal cannons, digging devices, and canisters that could only be powerful explosives.

“You see, Jor-El, you aren’t the only one who remembers the innovative concepts you delivered to my Commission. So many dangerous inventions…so much potential for destruction. Don’t you agree?” Just as Zod had kept the creation of his ostentatious statue a secret from Lara, he must have had separate teams working to produce these weapons without Jor-El’s knowledge.

“I recognize some of those designs, but—how? The Commission confiscated my plans! You destroyed them.”

“I lied—for the good of Krypton.”

More and more exotic weaponry rolled out, making the General’s already overwhelming army seem ten times more threatening. “You will remain here in Kryptonopolis under close watch, but rest assured that when Argo City falls to me, you will have had a clear hand in its defeat.”

Zor-El knew that General Zod’s
army would be coming with all the force it could muster. At Borga City, the General had already shown how far he was willing to go. Now Argo City would surely face annihilation as well.

Though he had already anticipated Zod’s response, Zor-El received confirmation of his worst fears when Jor-El sent him a desperate message burst. Jor-El was being held under guard, and Lara was a prisoner—exactly as Zor-El dreaded—but even so, his brother found a way to communicate…as he always did.

To control information and to prevent word from leaking out, General Zod had shut down all outgoing communications from Kryptonopolis. The message grid had been cut off…and yet Jor-El tapped into it, sending a pulsed burst into the continent-wide power network. The message only worked once, melting down several nodes, but the ominous text had played out on the screens of Zor-El’s seismic monitors.

“Zod’s armies are coming.”

So they prepared for the onslaught. Zor-El’s people responded with heartwarming dedication and sacrifice. The Society of Vigilance had swelled in recent days, recruiting many members from the angry Borga City refugees, and everyone in the city was on alert. Scouts patrolled the mainland up and down the coast and many kilometers into the interior, watching for the oncoming army from Kryptonopolis. It was only a matter of time.

Ironically, Zod had succeeded in unifying Krypton against a common enemy—
him.
Never before had so many people, so many cities, cooperated so fully toward a single goal. The widespread, and hollow-eyed, survivors from the annihilation of Borga City were only one more reminder of the crimes. Other than his lockstep followers in the new capital, everyone else had turned against the General. Zor-El watched with grim satisfaction as his people pushed themselves beyond their limits; they used their imagination, shook themselves out of their long-standing malaise, and retreated from the quagmire of stagnation. The spirit of Krypton had been reawakened.

In his observation tower, Zor-El had finished his intensive calculations, but he felt little joy in his solution. During a time like this, he and his brother should have been laboring side by side with the assistance of No-Ton and every other scientist on Krypton. Instead of deploying his shield to protect against the oncoming comet, he would now have to use it to defend against an invading army.

Utterly exhausted despite the satisfaction of success, he turned to his wife. “Sometimes I wonder what the point is. Even if we save our city from Zod, Loth-Ur’s Hammer is still going to smash the whole planet in a month.”

Alura stroked his cheek with a sky-blue blossom, then gently trailed it across his face, down his nose. He felt a rush of rejuvenation from the tailored pollens and perfumes. “You do it because you never give up hope. You may indeed find a way to save Krypton, or save one city, or even save a single person. That is the point.”

A young auburn-haired woman rushed into the tower chamber; sweat-damp garments clung to her arms and body. “I just came across the Alkar Bridge from the mainland. Our scouts spotted an incredible force of troops and gigantic vehicles coming toward the coast at great speed.”

Before he or Alura could ask questions, the young woman spread a thin, flexible sheet of filmcrystal on the tower wall, where it adhered to the smooth stones like a newly installed window. She smoothed a wrinkle and touched a corner so that surveillance images began to play. With the General standing proud and invincible in the lead craft, the vanguard of Zod’s troops advanced on floater platforms followed by large rolling vehicles, like dragons covered with thick armor. Next came wide-barreled artillery launchers, attack vehicles studded with spikes and unidentified weapons. Behind them came rank after rank of uniformed soldiers.

Never before had Krypton seen such an army.

“General Zod must have rallied everything against us.” Alura’s voice cracked.

Zor-El shook his head, his face grave. “I doubt we’re seeing everything. Count on the General to hold a few thoroughly unpleasant surprises in reserve.”

Though the young scout was still panting from rushing to him with her report, Zor-El gave her no time to rest. “Sound the alarms through the streets! Get everyone in Argo City ready. We have drilled for this, and now it’s time. I want Or-Om, Gal-Eth, and Korth-Or with me to help me guide our defense. If the General defeats us here, their cities will be next.”

Wiping sweat-streaked auburn hair out of her eyes, the young woman ran from the tower room.

Next he turned to Alura. “Can you see that my mother is safe?”

“And where, exactly, is safe?”

“I wish I knew.” Zor-El put his arms around her. “At least the waiting is over, and we can plan accordingly. I’ll transmit immediate messages to our supporters in other towns. I don’t like to use Argo City as bait, but while Zod is attacking us, the rebellion has to begin everywhere else across the continent. Zod can’t fight us all at once.”

“He’ll try.” Alura looked back at the filmcrystal window that displayed the massive armed forces from Kryptonopolis. Zod’s military outnumbered them at least ten to one. She lowered her voice. “You’re going to have to take drastic action.”

“I didn’t want to, but now there’s no choice. It’ll be a difficult siege.”

“We can endure, no matter how long it lasts. With my efficient greenhouses, our waterways, and our local energy sources, Argo City could be perfectly self-sufficient for years.”

He felt a lump in his throat, thinking through the cascade of consequences. “There can be no turning back. My beautiful city will never be the same afterward—even if we do somehow survive the comet.”

“Zod has already forced us into permanent change. It’s not your fault.”

The red sun shone like a great burning eye on the events about to unfold. To the east, the sea was strangely calm, and Zor-El tried to draw peace from it, but his stomach was knotted.

So far, he had heard nothing more from his brother besides the terse warning message. Kryptonopolis had been locked down tight even with Zod’s army gone. Posing as loyal followers of Zod and wearing sapphire armbands seized by the Society of Vigilance, volunteer couriers had slipped into the new city. Each one carried a small message crystal that, to most observers, projected innocent images of family members who had vanished with Kandor. Zor-El, however, had hidden secondary messages in the crystals, schematics and detailed explanations of his work with the protective shield. Now it was his turn to help Jor-El. That secret message was tailored to activate only upon contact with his brother’s DNA markers, which were the same as his own. None of the couriers had returned.

Zor-El took Alura’s hand, and they walked out of the tower. It was time to be with the people. “We’ve done all that we can. For the rest, we have to rely on hope and luck.”

“That’s not a very scientific-sounding statement.”

“Even in science there’s a certain element of chance.”

Nervous, yet resigned, crowds had gathered in Argo City’s streets and squares. Many stood on balconies overlooking the five graceful bridges, watching the dust cloud and shadows that marked the forward progress of Zod’s army. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Clear the bridges,” Zor-El ordered. “Bring everyone inside the city. Those who want to take their chances on the mainland should evacuate now.” Staying in Argo City under siege might not be any safer, but this was where he had cast his lot. Zor-El would rely on his technology, his own abilities.

And he had a surprise for the General.

Massive floating platforms loaded with armed troops drew up to each of the five emblematic bridges, and Zod’s warriors disembarked, each contingent led by one puffed-up member of the Ring of Strength. Rumbling siege equipment, heavily armored vehicles, and mobile weapons took up positions along the thin spit of land that formed the narrowest part of the peninsula. Very quickly, all of Argo City was blocked off. But the General held his army back, as if hesitant to fire.

Zor-El smiled at Alura. “He must be worried about what I have up my sleeve.”

“Why are you waiting? You know what you have to do.” Her dark eyes were full of worry. He thought she looked achingly beautiful. “Are you having second thoughts? We may have only a few moments before the attack begins.”

He laughed. “Zod won’t attack—yet. I know his type. He’ll make a grandiose speech, threaten us, and try to make us quake in our shoes. He’s convinced that we have no chance.”

At the forefront of his army, General Zod rode on a command platform surrounded by impenetrable transparent panes that would protect him from any stray weapons fire or overt assassination attempts, even from his own people. Aethyr and Nam-Ek flanked him as the floater pulled up to the central bridge. He looked ready to cross and lead a full-scale invasion. Zor-El, who had moved to a tall building on the bayside edge of the city, crossed his arms and looked down from a balcony at the tiny figure of the General.

Zod spoke into a high-powered amplifier that made his voice so loud that the words clapped against the clouds overhead. “I do not wish to damage this glorious city, but your defiance harms all of Krypton. If I do not receive your surrender within one hour, we begin our bombardment. Your people shall suffer terribly. Think of them.”

Zor-El had installed voice amplifiers of his own on the observation balcony. His defiant response, picked up by repeaters and speakers everywhere, thundered through the city, across the bridges, and along the peninsula, so that every member of the invading army could hear.

“I don’t need an hour, Zod. My people and I made up our minds long before you arrived. You cannot have this city, and I will not let you harm my people.” Raising his hand, he gave orders to his waiting technicians.
The irrevocable act.
“Activate the shield.”

Suddenly a shimmering golden dome extended from the seawall. Made out of crackling static and solidified light, it rose in a huge arching vault, reached its apex high above the tallest towers, and slammed down, severing the five bridges like an executioner’s axe.

The southern edge of the force-field dome sealed itself on the bottleneck of the narrow peninsula, throwing up curtains of dust as it did so. In shock and disarray, Zod’s army scrambled back from the crackling wall.

Cut in half, the five bridges, precious landmarks of Argo City, slowly groaned and twisted as the severed spans slumped downward. With the tension released, their cables whipped about, and the majestic bridges plunged into the water of the narrow bay.

Protected inside their shimmering dome, the people of Argo City let out a collective sigh of awe and dismay. Zor-El stared with sickened satisfaction, but no triumph, as tears streamed down his face.