The Last Days of Krypton (34 page)

After Zod took his army
on the march, the only ones left in Kryptonopolis were too young, too old, or too infirm to fight. Even these people were allowed no rest, but forced to continue work on Zod’s projects. Koll-Em had been placed in provisional control, bitter at being left behind but pleased with the taste of power and responsibility. Token squads of Sapphire Guards patrolled the streets, merely as a matter of form. They expected no trouble.

Jor-El was their only worry.

The knowledge of Lara’s incarceration wounded him like a cold knife in his side. Even with Zod gone, he knew that Koll-Em and a few of the more brutal Sapphire Guards would not hesitate to harm his wife in order to coerce him.

Still appalled that Zod had copied inventions from plans the old Commission had supposedly destroyed, Jor-El decided to inspect the weapons shops under the pretext of finding parts for the nova javelins. The buildings and hangars were now relatively empty since the army had taken everything along. He examined the construction bays, the fabrication machinery, the chemical synthesizers. The place stank of fuel exhaust, harsh solvents, a variety of volatile compounds, and machined metals.

He was disgusted, yet not entirely surprised, to recognize the unique chemical composition of the main explosives Zod employed in his new artillery. They were based directly on the high-energy propellent he himself had developed for his solar-probe rockets. Jor-El had puzzled over that same distinctive molecular signature when trying to prove his innocence in the matter of Donodon’s death. He had found traces of this very explosive in the wreckage of the seismic scanner. Now he knew where it had come from. Zod, or more likely his henchman, Nam-Ek, had used his own rocket propellent to blow up the device.

Jor-El already had plenty of reasons to turn entirely against the General, and this merely gave him one more.

As he searched for some way to disrupt Zod’s plans, he felt very alone. He had sent his desperate warning transmission to his brother, and he hoped it had served its purpose. Kryptonopolis had received no news from the General’s army since it departed, but even if Zod hadn’t shut down the communications grid, all transmissions had been disrupted. Rao had undergone a suddenly violent phase, spewing unstable flares that interfered with standard communications. The vehement solar storm made Jor-El wonder if the red giant might be about to go supernova. He had not been able to send up a probe rocket for many months. Of course, no one else on Krypton could be torn away from their more parochial concerns. As usual.

Under careful supervision, Jor-El spent his days grudgingly working on the nova javelins, as Zod had commanded. The ancient warlord’s maps and charts were indeed out of date, and—under better circumstances—Jor-El could have compared the old measurements with his new modern ones to develop fascinating tectonic theories. Now, though, he had explicit other orders for the missiles.

He deciphered complex systems that even No-Ton did not understand. The two men analyzed and reconfigured the guidance systems, then ran repeated tests to reset the navigation and targeting controls. Mechanically, the systems were functional again, but spatial and ground-based coordinates had altered in the thousand years since Jax-Ur’s reign.

Though No-Ton was also a member of the Ring of Strength and should therefore have been considered trustworthy, Koll-Em insisted on monitoring every test for himself, much to Jor-El’s annoyance. The edgy young noble didn’t understand any of the operations, but kept an eye out for anxiety on Jor-El’s face as an indicator of deceit. Even when No-Ton assured his fellow Ring member that Jor-El was doing as he’d been instructed, Koll-Em lurked about and watched.

Jor-El didn’t consider the reluctant No-Ton to be an ally, but he knew that the other scientist also had reservations about what General Zod was doing. Fortunately, No-Ton was in such awe of Jor-El’s technical expertise that he did not question misleading statements that the white-haired genius confidently put forward as “facts.”

When Jor-El finished his activities in the nova javelin bunkers, he shoved sheets of incomprehensible numbers and projected trajectories into Koll-Em’s hands. “As you can see, everything is in order.” The angry young man would never be able to interpret them.

Leaving the underground chamber, he ascended to the surface, emerged at the edge of the Square of Hope, and boldly walked to the complex glassy spire where Lara was being held. An uncertain-looking Sapphire Guard blocked the way. “I am here to see Lara,” he said.

“No one is allowed to enter.”

“I am allowed to enter. I am Jor-El.”

Koll-Em hurried up, flustered and trying to show that he was in control of the situation. “Oh, let him inside. Seeing his hostage wife will remind Jor-El why he has no choice but to assist us.” His thin-lipped grin was little more than a slash across his face.

Jor-El gave him a scornful look. “There are
always
choices. But sometimes every choice is flawed.”

Close on his heels, Koll-Em followed him down the colored glassy corridors. “It’s not too late for you, Jor-El. If you help us achieve a smooth victory and thwart Argo City’s resistance, General Zod may yet forgive you. You could still have an important place in our new order.”

“Before or after the comet destroys Krypton?”

Koll-Em was clearly uneasy. He respected and feared Jor-El’s scientific talent. “Zod will protect us. He can do anything.”

Jor-El rounded on him. He did not comprehend the young man’s attitude, his enthusiastic assumption of his position of power. “General Zod killed your brother. He annihilated Borga City, yet you still support him. Aren’t you angry?”

“My brother only got what he deserved,” Koll-Em sneered. “Time and again over the course of our lives, he belittled me, held me back, ignored me.” The nervous veneer of his bravado could not entirely conceal his real feelings. “Borga City is gone now, just like Kandor. What happened has happened. We can’t wallow in the past. We must look to the future.”

Disgusted with the pointless parroting of Zod’s propaganda, Jor-El kept walking until he reached the barricaded door to Lara’s cell. A lattice of thick crystal entirely blocked the opening. The translucent walls blurred the details of his wife’s lovely face. Nevertheless, when she spotted him she moved quickly to the faceted wall. “Jor-El! I knew you’d come.” Her voice carried through the clear crystal.

He pressed as close as he could. “I came to make sure you were still safe.”

“She’s safe
for now,
” Koll-Em taunted from behind him.

“May I have a moment of privacy with my wife?”

“No, you may not. Who knows what secret information you two might exchange?”

Jor-El placed his palm flat against the wall of interlocked crystal; behind the blurry barrier, Lara did the same. “Be strong, Lara. We’ll get through this.”

“Tell me what’s happening out there. Is Argo City safe?”

Koll-Em grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away. “She doesn’t need to know all that.” The Sapphire Guard began to manhandle Jor-El back out.

“I love you!” he called to her.

Lara’s voice vibrated through the facets. “Do what you have to, Jor-El!” She pressed herself against the crystal barrier, but he couldn’t see her clearly.

He longed to look at her face, to touch her. “I don’t intend for my child to be born inside a cell.”

“Then you’d better help this war end very soon,” Koll-Em said.

The fear and suspicion that permeated Kryptonopolis now worked in Jor-El’s favor. He went about his plans, feigning bold confidence; any furtiveness would only invite suspicion, and he had no intention of explaining himself.

The new devices he had secretly assembled were simple enough, remarkably brilliant in fact. He intended to pass along his appreciation to Zor-El—if they both survived the next few days.

In a small pocket, he still held the fragment of a message crystal he’d received from a haggard-looking secret courier shortly before the army marched for Argo City. The hidden recording it held from Zor-El offered vital information: “Others might be uncertain of your loyalties, Jor-El, but you are my brother. I believe you’ll do the right thing with these designs.”

He’d been saddened to learn that this was the third covert message Zor-El had tried to send him. None of the other volunteers had found him, and Jor-El never saw the haggard messenger again. Had he slipped away, been forcibly recruited into the army, or been killed? Every day, Jor-El expected to be thrown into a crystalline cell himself; he prayed at least it would be next to Lara’s.

Moving as if he were walking on fragile glass, he determined an appropriate installation point on the perimeter of the city, another one in the Square of Hope, another outside the main offices. After slipping into the government palace, he measured carefully and found a hiding place to install the last small object in the large main chamber that Zod had been using as a kind of throne room.

Just as he finished, Koll-Em stormed into the room. The man’s pointed face flushed upon seeing Jor-El there. His loose brown hair had a wild look. “What do you think you’re doing? This is a restricted area.”

Jor-El stood up to him. “General Zod asked me to run a special scan. I am confirming that no assassination devices have been planted in his absence.”

“The General told me nothing of this!”

Jor-El let a mysterious smile creep across his face. “Precisely who do you think he’s worried about? You’ve made your ambitions clear, not even showing mercy to your own brother. The General has every right to be suspicious of you.” He pressed his point. “Shall we contact him now? We might be able to break through the interference caused by the solar storm. General Zod won’t be pleased by the interruption, of course, but he will confirm what I’m saying. The call will also give me a chance to inform him of certain suspicious items I found in your own quarters.”

Koll-Em paled. “What items? You were in my quarters?”

“I was doing my job.”

The young man seethed for a long moment. “I don’t trust you, Jor-El.”

“The feeling is very mutual. And Zod trusts neither of us.” Then he added with an ironic smile, “All hail, the new Krypton.”

He walked out of the government palace, leaving Koll-Em fuming with helpless anger.

Like a slap in the
face, the force-field dome over Argo City made General Zod’s cheeks burn. He knew that Zor-El and his people must be laughing at him from inside the city. He did not find it intriguing at all. “Bring forth our weapons and blast through that barrier. Show these deluded fools that they cannot resist Zod.”

Aethyr chose her words carefully. “Are you willing to destroy Argo City after all? How much do you think that force field can withstand?”

“We shall see.”

Unable to control the anger he felt on behalf of his master, Nam-Ek marched forward, fists balled, and pounded against the crackling barrier. His strongest blows barely elicited a humming sound. Frustrated, the mute stepped back, scowling at his knuckles and flexing his tingling hands.

“Pull back! Prepare for our first bombardment.”

When the initial rounds exploded against the golden dome, the shock waves blew backward with such force that the sound nearly deafened the soldiers who stood too close to watch; holding their ringing ears, the men staggered away. The most powerful detonations produced little more than ripples of color across the force field.

Zod’s army cheered hopefully as the next group of demolitions experts planted even more powerful bombs. They unleashed a truly apocalyptic chain of explosions, also to no effect.

“Try the bridges. Maybe those are weak points.” He still couldn’t believe Zor-El had actually cut off the magnificent spans that had been the pride of the city for many centuries. The remaining superstructure, half out of the water outside the protective dome, resembled the skeleton of a beached sea beast. Zod fumed, incensed that he’d underestimated the sheer irrationality of Jor-El’s brother.

Taking a different approach, he ordered his construction engineers to dig tunnels under the narrow neck of the peninsula. If they could get under the protective dome, they would come up from beneath. But no matter how deep they dug with their best tunneling apparatus, they still encountered the shimmering barrier many meters underground; the force field had sliced easily through dirt and stone. His diggers emerged from their tunnels, dirty and discouraged.

The General now began to grow impatient. Sensing his mood, Aethyr pushed him. “You are the savior of Krypton, my love. You don’t take half measures, and no one thwarts your will with impunity.”

“Correct on all counts.” The two of them stepped back onto the command platform, cruised back over the troops, and turned to survey Argo City. Under the seething red sun, the very
intact
ness of the defiant city mocked him. “Bring forth our heaviest weapons. The city is forfeit. Let loose a bombardment that will make even the ghost of Jax-Ur shudder! I want a complete and utter holocaust here.”

Argo City remained silent behind the faint hum of the force field.

His army lined up seventeen wide-bore thermal cannons, pointing the flame launchers’ muzzles toward one section of the barrier. Conventional crystal-tipped penetrators were loaded into field guns on the bottleneck of land. Catapults, vibrational thundershocks, flash-enhanced mortars—everything was aimed toward the thrumming dome.

When General Zod gave the command, every weapon fired at once. The sound and the fury roared through the skies. Flames and flashes billowed upward in blinding intensity. Aethyr watched the furious explosions; their colors and heat reflected off her skin, as if suffusing her with energy. Nam-Ek wore an expression of boyish delight. Zod didn’t blink, refusing to miss a moment of the spectacle.

Raging flames and caustic smoke surrounded the golden dome. The General tried to
will
the force field to collapse. His armies kept launching their weapons, exhausting half of his arsenal.

But when the smoke cleared, the dome remained intact.

A sickening sense of failure assailed Zod, threatening to overwhelm him. Finally, he barked orders for the attack to cease. Continuing the pointless waste of firepower would simply make him look like more of a fool. He could lay siege to Argo City and starve them out, though that might well take months or years, depending on their stockpiles. And all the while, his military would be embroiled here, squandering valuable time, as other towns took advantage of the situation for their own petty rebellions. By remaining entrenched, waiting for the shield to flicker and come down, Zod himself—the great ruler of Krypton—would appear weak, ineffectual. He would be a laughingstock.

Though the words burned like bile in his throat, he said, “We return to Kryptonopolis. Immediately.”

Aethyr was shocked. “No! We cannot retreat. Think of how history—”

“We are
not
retreating. We are modifying our tactics. If these weapons are ineffective, we must resort to something more powerful.”

Zod’s great military force loaded up the troop-transport platforms and turned around the heavy weapons and field artillery. He was sure the people of Argo City understood that he meant to come at them again with a vengeance. They could stew over that while he made his final preparations.