CHAPTER 26
The Kryptonian Council reacted to Donodon’s death with horror, disbelief, and helpless panic—as Zod had known they would. They had always been fools, and now they were fools faced with a dilemma.
The Council had absolutely no idea what to do. In times of great urgency, when difficult decisions needed to be made and action needed to be taken, Zod wished that someone would just take firm control. That was what the people needed. Finally, after his impulsive act of pure inspiration, the doors of possibility would open for him, and the long-overdue changes would be swift and permanent. Even Cor-Zod would have admired how carefully his son had laid down every thread in the pattern….
The recent earthquake and tsunami that had smashed Argo City had already thrown the Council into turmoil. Zod saw a measure of irony in the Argo City disaster—maybe Jor-El’s brother could take satisfaction in having obvious, if tragic, proof of the planet’s seismic instabilities. Jor-El did not need his alien seismic scanning device after all. Since other city leaders were rushing supplies and relief to the damaged peninsula, however, the eleven Council members in Kandor were more worried about the repercussions of Donodon’s death. They were plainly terrified.
Sure enough, the Council declared another emergency session and summoned Jor-El to face their wrath, their justice. He was the perfect scapegoat, and in his own shock and grief, Jor-El might even accept whatever punishment the Council decreed. Zod guessed that he would wear his own mantle of guilt heavier than anything the government leaders could ever impose. Zod bided his time, waiting for the right moment.
Feeling heartsick at what had happened, the stunned scientist had already rushed to the capital on his own. Such a monumental failure and miscalculation from the great Jor-El was even more unsettling to the public than the alien’s death itself. Even Jor-El couldn’t seem to believe what had happened.
“I accept full responsibility.” He stood below the Council in the speaking arena, raising his hands. His face was as white as the robes he wore, but he still carried a weighty dignity about him. Dressings covered dozens of wounds on his hands and his cheeks. “I did not intend for this to happen. Donodon and I were working together. It is a terrible mistake.”
“It is terrible, to be sure,” Jul-Us said sternly. Since the Council session was closed and the access doors were barred, all the tiers of stone seats remained empty. His voice echoed in the cavernous chamber. The mood here was the complete opposite of when a confident Jor-El had faced them at his brother’s side, taking charge and demanding that they listen to his warning. Zod knew he could use this to his advantage.
“In all our centuries of records, there is not a single comparable incident!” said Kor-Te, sounding both disappointed and confused. The Council members drew strength from each other’s indignation.
Personally, Zod was quite pleased with how events had turned out. He had not known how effective Nam-Ek’s sabotage would be, and he had resigned himself to losing the great scientist in order to light the fires of panic. Even that would have been acceptable to him, but fortunately, Jor-El had survived. If carefully guided, the man could still play a very important role.
Jul-Us raised his gnarled hand for silence from the other members, though each of them was frothing with the need to speak. The Council Head looked down from his bench. “Will the alien’s people view this as murder? Will they demand retribution?”
“Murder?” Jor-El was appalled, then rallied and stood straighter. “Don’t be ridiculous. How can you think that? How could anyone think that? It was an accident.” He lowered his voice. “Donodon was my friend. He himself helped me build the device.”
“He should not have come to Krypton in the first place,” Pol-Ev muttered.
“And yet he did,” Al-An moaned. “Now what are we going to do?”
“It was his own experiment that killed him,” Jun-Do pointed out.
Knowing that it was time to make sure the questions and accusations followed the desired path, Zod stood from his own seat. He was careful to balance the necessity of placing Jor-El in his debt with the need to maintain the Council’s suspicions. “Once again, we all see the dangers of unproven technology. My Commission warned Jor-El numerous times.” He held up a hand to cut off a flurry of comments. “But he has a good heart and a strong sense of honor. I do believe he meant no harm. The alien insisted there was no risk. As did Jor-El.”
He rubbed his trim beard. He knew exactly what seeds to plant. “In fact, it may be a blessing that Donodon was killed. Have you considered the implications? Who can say what the outsider might have communicated to his superiors once he left our world? His friendship might have been a ploy. Would he have revealed our vulnerabilities? Our secrets? To alien invaders, Krypton no doubt seems a lush fruit ripe for the picking.”
Jor-El turned to him, looking stung and angry. “Donodon’s race was peaceful, Commissioner. They were explorers, travelers—”
“Then why was he so eager to talk about his powerful galactic police corps?” Silber-Za demanded in an icy voice. She had bound her blond hair back in a severe arrangement, held in place with sharp pins. “If we refused to accept the rule of their law, would they have used their powers against Krypton?”
Despite his clear misery, Jor-El still stood up for himself. Now he seemed angry. “We have absolutely no reason to doubt Donodon. He said they were a force for good.”
“As defined by whom?” Zod continued, speaking now for the benefit of the easily manipulated Council members. “Those who hold such power tend to use it for their own purposes, not to the benefit of others.”
“Commissioner Zod is right,” said Mauro-Ji, amidst the muttering of the other members. “No doubt every one of those villains Donodon displayed for us also believed they were doing something ‘good.’”
Cera-Si nodded. “I’m sorry, Jor-El, but the very fact that other planets need such a police corps proves how dangerous it is out there! I see now that Krypton has been absolutely correct to remain isolated.”
The timing of the Sapphire Guards could not have been better. They entered carrying the small cloth-wrapped body on a stretcher.
Mere moments after news of the tragedy had arrived, Zod had issued swift instructions, thinking faster than the Council members could. The security troops had rushed to Jor-El’s estate, seized Donodon’s lacerated body, wrapped it up, and carried it back to the Council temple. They had also confiscated the alien’s numerous devices and tools, plucking them from his mangled jumpsuit and then locking them in a vault beneath the government chambers.
Seeing the wrapped corpse now, the Council members were struck silent. Jor-El turned his head away in anger, grief, and shame.
“I have also ordered a team to bring the alien’s spaceship here to Kandor, where my Commission will dismantle it properly.” Zod nodded, smiling coolly. The Council members approved, looking both surprised and relieved that someone would show such initiative. “We will take it apart, so we do not have to worry about the dangers of that spacecraft.”
Though he appeared defeated and overwhelmed, Jor-El turned quickly. “Do not destroy that ship, Commissioner. We can learn—”
“Your curiosity has caused quite enough damage, Jor-El,” Silber-Za snapped. “There’s no telling what dangers Krypton now faces because of you.”
Zod continued to push them to the edge of fear. “There is no need for panic.” But his tone said exactly the opposite. “We can hope for the best. When Donodon’s people discover what happened, it is possible they will listen to our explanations. Jor-El is clearly sincere. It is possible they won’t suspect us of treachery. It is possible they are a gentle race, a force for good, as Jor-El believes them to be. It is even possible they will just forgive him and forget anything terrible ever happened.”
“It’s possible they’ll leave us alone,” Al-An added, his voice quavering.
Zod looked at Jor-El with an expression of cautious hope before he hardened his voice again. “But I do
not believe it. We have to prepare for the worst. How will Krypton protect itself as a sovereign planet? We must change our ways. Instead of forbidding technology that might be turned against us, now we need to embrace it! We must shift our emphasis, pour all of our creative efforts into defense.” Naturally, he expected to be personally put in charge of all of the weapons preparations, as a first and crucial step.
The Council members were unanimous in their shock. “That is inconceivable, Commissioner!” Cera-Si cried.
“Inconceivable perhaps—but necessary. If it turns out we do not need the weapons, then we will not use them. But better to have them just in case. We must begin immediately. We may not have much time.” Zod carefully controlled the intensity in his voice. If he appeared too eager, the Council might suspect his plans. “No one can tell when vengeful outsiders will come.”
“Completely unacceptable, Commissioner.” Jul-Us shook his head gravely. “It would change who we are as Kryptonians.”
Zod wanted to strangle them. He had set everything forth so carefully. He quelled his fury, controlled his voice. “I respectfully disagree. Any reasonable person can see—”
The Council Head continued in a ponderous tone. “No, no, if Krypton begins a sudden military buildup, it will be seen as proof that we are lying, that this was no accident. No, the only thing we can do is hold Jor-El accountable. The blame clearly falls on his shoulders. He invented the device that killed Donodon, and Donodon himself was involved in the misadventure. Those two played with dangerous technology. They let it get out of control.”
Mauro-Ji said, “Yes, we must have a full and open trial. Jor-El can present his case, show any evidence he chooses. That will demonstrate the fairness and impartiality of our justice system.”
Old Jul-Us slowly turned to look at his fellows on the Council bench. “And when we find Jor-El guilty, it will prove that we meant no harm to Donodon. Then the outsiders will leave us alone.”
Jor-El’s shoulders sagged, and it was clear to everyone there, even Zod, that he would be convicted no matter what evidence he presented at the inquisition.
CHAPTER 27
Disgraced, Jor-El saw no alternative but to place himself in quiet exile while the Kryptonian Council decided his fate. Though he believed the tragedy was an accident, and he could not accept that Donodon’s vengeful race would bring destruction to Krypton, he had no desire to talk to anyone.
Many members of his estate staff were frightened, and he gave them leave to go stay with friends or relatives. Fro-Da wouldn’t budge, though, insisting that he would make a fine meal every night; the plump, curly-haired man saw exquisite food as a cure for any unpleasant turn of events. Regardless, Jor-El felt very alone.
He had thought matters could not get worse, until a second team of Sapphire Guards came to ransack his estate on orders from the Council. They had already taken Donodon’s ship and all of the alien’s tools and possessions. Now, though, while he stood helplessly watching, the guards removed several half-completed engines and “threatening” devices from his research building.
They also found the seven remaining small rockets equipped with solar-analysis probes at the launching pad behind his main research building. He had received data from the last sensor package he’d launched, but he still intended to send monthly probes to monitor the red giant’s fluctuations. Donodon had offered his assistance….
Now, though, the Sapphire Guards took them all away. “These are potential weapons, clearly precluded by Kryptonian law.” Though the guard captain seemed somewhat awed, even intimidated, by the great scientist’s presence and his technology, he instructed his men to load the rockets onto a transport platform. “I am sorry, Jor-El. They are to be confiscated.”
Jor-El tried to explain. “They are scientific probes used to study Rao. They go above the atmosphere to take readings!” He drew a deep breath. “The Council gave me express permission to study the sun so that we can prepare if it enters its final supernova phase—”
“That is not my decision to make.” The big-shouldered man seemed apologetic. “You will have to appeal to Kandor.” The guards finished loading the apparatus without a further word to Jor-El, though they continued to give him sidelong glances. Angry, he watched them depart. They were only following the orders of the frightened, misguided Council.
From Argo City, even as rescue crews combed through the wreckage and tended the injured, Zor-El sent a supportive message on the communication plate. His dark hair long and loose, Zor-El looked drawn, his exhaustion and shock barely kept at bay by sheer adrenaline and determination. “I would be there at your side if I could, Jor-El. You know that.”
“Yes, I know it. And I also know that Donodon’s technology could have scanned the core and gotten the data we needed to convince the Council. The seismic penetrator would have changed everything. But now it’s too late.”
“I’ll still get the data, Jor-El. Even after the tsunami, I am sending a team to the southern continent. We were doing it before the alien arrived. We can achieve this ourselves.”
Jor-El looked intently at his brother’s face on the screen. “You need my help. Saving Argo City should be our priority, not my personal troubles—”
Zor-El cut him off. “Don’t worry about me. Many workers from all across the world responded to our need with all the willingness and enthusiasm I could hope for. I just have to give them guidance.” His image grew larger and more intimate as he leaned closer to the viewer. “You know you did nothing wrong, Jor-El. Don’t surrender without a fight. I believe in you, just as you believed in me when I told you about the core instabilities.”
Jor-El found the strength within himself. “Yes. I have to make the Council see beyond their fear.”
Not wanting his disgrace to rub off on her, Jor-El urged Lara to return home to her parents and brother in their Kandor studios, but she responded with cool stubbornness. “You need me, Jor-El, more than at any other time in your life.” She tossed her amber hair and looked him directly in the eyes. “You need me.”
“Of course I do, but you shouldn’t be with me. You know that, Lara.”
“Why? For the sake of appearances? For a genius, you can be incredibly dense sometimes.” She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, stood close enough that he could feel her warmth, smell her scent, see the bright sunshine on her skin and hair. “I don’t care what anyone thinks, as long as you have faith in yourself. I believe in you, and I intend to stay for as long as you need me.”
Jor-El let out a strained laugh. “You may be stuck here for quite some time, then.”
“Then that’s the way it will be.”
Sensing that he needed a new perspective, Lara took him by the arm and dragged him out to look at the spectacular murals her parents had painted. He stared with a leaden heart at the last obelisk, the one separate from the other eleven. Lara’s recently completed portrait of him looked so brave and wise, so determined. Genius. Jor-El wanted to be that visionary man again. The device he and Donodon had built should have provided vital information, but instead it had caused unexpected tragedy. A simple miscalculation…or a fundamental design flaw. Working with Donodon, he had learned much about the alien’s technology, had glimpsed only the tip of the iceberg of possibilities. Had he done something wrong? Jor-El accepted that he would have to pay for that mistake, rather than let his whole planet suffer. It was what truth and justice demanded of him, just as in the legendary story of Kal-Ik that Lara had told him.
In a determined, almost scolding tone, Lara said, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. That hurts me more than all of these cuts.” She held out her bandaged arms.
She took his hand again and led him across the grounds to where the dismantled fountain showed white marks, chips, and scratches from the flying debris. That fortunate barricade had saved both of their lives. Nearby, broken crystals, shattered mirrors, and fragmented components of the seismic scanner lay strewn across the scarred garden. “Study this. Find out what
went wrong. I’m surprised the Sapphire Guards haven’t already taken every scrap.”
For her sake, he straightened. Had he made an error in his calculations? Had he assembled the pieces incorrectly? Was Kryptonian technology incompatible with the alien’s systems? Had the power conduits been insufficient to carry the load he had distributed into the scanner? He drew a breath as possibilities crossed his mind. “You’re right. I’m a scientist. I have to learn all I can while I still have the chance. I can solve the problem.”
“Yes, you can.”
He gazed at her, feeling a deeper emotion than he had ever experienced before. “I’m sorry, Lara. After all of my grandiose blueprints and prototypes, I intended to make something that would show the Council the urgent need to do something. I should not have been so impulsive.”
“Don’t be ashamed because you were enthusiastic and decisive. Being impulsive is not a bad thing at all. Even though a terrible accident happened, you’re still a good person—and I love you for it.” She smiled at him unabashedly, as if daring him to contradict her. “Yes, I do love you, and I think you feel the same about me. That’s why we need to make some good come out of this.”
He blinked at the realization and then couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yes, Lara. I love you. There’s absolutely no question in my mind, even under these circumstances.” He stopped, then looked at her with an intensity that surprised even him. She had encouraged him to be impulsive, and so he plunged ahead in a rush of words without pausing to think. “In my dedication to my work, I sometimes forget what I need most—like sleep and food and…you. It’s been hard for me to stop thinking about you for quite some time. Lara…I want to be your husband, and I want you to be my wife.”
Jor-El could not breathe for several seconds, and he turned away, his thoughts spinning, his heart pounding. Suddenly he realized that he was being incredibly selfish to ask. He was in disgrace, and the Council could very well sentence him to permanent imprisonment. How could he ask her to make such a sacrifice?
The Last Days of Krypton Page 15