“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.”
CHAPTER 51
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.
CHAPTER 52
While Jor-El was gone for weeks setting up the huge Rao-beam project, Lara remained in Kryptonopolis to pain
t breathtaking new frescoes and assemble mosaics. Commissioner Zod expressed great support for her work. He said the glorious art helped to anchor his capital city’s place in cultural history.
Aethyr’s enthusiasm for Zod’s “new Krypton” seemed boundless, though Lara wasn’t sure exactly what role her friend played in the government. The other woman often slipped away unexpectedly; taking one or two Ring members and some Sapphire Guards, she would disappear for days and come back at odd hours. Whenever Lara asked about it, Aethyr remained evasive. “Sometimes a new government doesn’t run as smoothly as it should.”
Meanwhile, Lara intently studied the numerous buildings being erected or repaired, then sketched out her artistic plans for them. She transformed the blocky walls from plain, ser viceable structures into truly majestic monuments that would surpass anything Jax-Ur had created long ago.
The five immense new crystalline towers had already altered Kryptonopolis, transforming the construction site into a dramatic work of architectural art. On Lookout Hill the tallest monolith gleamed in the red sunlight. Despite Jor-El’s insistence that the gesture was not necessary, Zod had proudly named that structure the Tower of Yar-El.
Lara’s main project was to embellish a structure designated as the new treasury building. She sent detailed plans to armies of her helpful apprentices, then went to inspect the numerous decoration projects under way across the city. In Kryptonopolis, Lara supervised five times as many workers as her parents had ever overseen. All this was entirely new to her, but she was sure Ora and Lor-Van would have been pleased.
She stopped to admire an intricate and colorful mosaic her crew was installing on the new Academy headquarters, to be named after Cor-Zod. The mosaic’s pattern of carefully arranged pieces was still not obvious at a glance, although she had a clear picture of it in her mind.
“Magnificent.” Zod had come up behind her, accompanied by Aethyr. “But Krypton has a new request to make of you, an even more difficult task.” The Commissioner’s resonant voice sounded personable.
Not sure what to say, Lara ran her gaze over all the workers engaged in assembling the mosaic. “I don’t have time for anything else, Commissioner. With Jor-El gone, I am already devoting every waking hour to this work.”
“I would expect nothing less from the wife of Jor-El.” Zod stepped close, and his presence fell over Lara like the shadow from a thundercloud. “You’ve already drawn your designs, and we have plenty of competent supervisors to ensure that the work continues without pause. However, Aethyr suggested you as the perfect person for an extremely important project, one with even more enduring relevance than any of these works of art.”
“A different sort of art,” Aethyr added.
Before Zod could explain further, one of the mosaic workers stumbled and knocked over his basket full of cut tiles from the high scaffolding. He yelled a warning to the people below as hundreds of colorful chips tumbled through the air. Sparkling like a shattered rainbow, they pattered on the flagstones. The other workers groaned, not because anyone had been hurt, but because gathering up all the pieces would be so tedious.
The Commissioner turned away, clearly not wanting his devoted followers to see his stormy expression of contempt and disappointment, but Lara noticed. It took him only a fraction of a second to compose a fresh smile for her. “Aethyr tells me you have a background in history, and that your instructors at the Academy commended your writing talent. Most important, you grasp the context of the great events around us.”
The compliment made Lara oddly uncomfortable. She did not tell him of the detailed personal journal she had already been surreptitiously keeping. “Yes, history and writing are among my interests.”
Aethyr ignored the chaos behind them. “Lara, it is important to make sure that history remembers Zod properly. These are turbulent times, and when emotions run high, memory isn’t always accurate.”
The Commissioner nodded. “You are the perfect person to be my official biographer and the chronicler of my new reign, to set down the official version of events and determine how history remembers me—remembers all of us.”
Lara was not so easily recruited. “You want me to write propaganda for you?”
“Not propaganda—the truth.”
Aethyr interjected, “There is no such thing as completely objective truth, Lara. Everything the Commissioner does can be seen from varying perspectives. Though many of the complainers have now withdrawn their objections, some people like Shor-Em still argue with his decisions out of petty jealousy and a petulant resistance to change. You remember how much Jor-El has fought against that kind of backward thinking. We are in this together.”
Lara crossed her arms over her chest, still not convinced. “I also remember, Commissioner, that you were the one who censored most of my husband’s inventions. If not for you, Jor-El’s discoveries could have benefited Krypton for many years. But your Commission held him back.”
“That was not my choice, Lara. I followed the Council’s guidance, and for that I admit my error. Have I not proved myself since then? Look at what I am allowing Jor-El and his brother to do right now. Drilling to Krypton’s core! A project the old Council would never have approved, no matter how much data they reviewed.” He looked at her intently. “Won’t you give me the benefit of the doubt?”
Skilled artisans scurried around the base of the scaffolding like hive insects, busily picking up the mosaic pieces; within minutes, they had cleaned up the mess. “See how efficient Kryptonians can be if they work together and follow a single leader?” Aethyr said. “That’s why we have to help everyone see what Zod can do for them. If you write our history properly, you’ll be helping to save Krypton as surely as your husband’s drilling project will.”
Before she could reply, Lara fought against a sudden twisting in her stomach; she took long, deep breaths through her nostrils. At first she thought it was some instinctive revulsion to what they were asking her to do, but it was merely her pregnancy. Even though she loved to feel the baby growing inside her, she had recently begun suffering bouts of morning sickness.
Neither Aethyr nor Zod seemed to notice her discomfiture. Trying to calm her nausea, Lara spoke to them through clenched teeth. “We are still in the midst of such chaotic events. There’s not enough perspective for a true history.”
“One must start somewhere, and events are fresh in your mind.” Zod brushed a speck from his chest. “I will grant you full access, so you can get the truth directly from me, instead of listening to any rumors you might hear.”
Aethyr added with a snort, “Borga City continues to mount a smear campaign against the Commissioner, disregarding all we’ve accomplished. They completely ignore the fact that we have the nova javelins to protect Krypton. Zod has asked to meet with Shor-Em to discuss matters, but the man refuses.”
Zod nodded gravely. “Fortunately, many of those who spoke out against me have been convinced otherwise. Gil-Ex was the first, as you know, and many others have respectfully retired into seclusion. Tyr-Us recently joined them, too.”
Lara hadn’t heard this. “Tyr-Us now supports you? That’s an amazing turnabout.”
“He saw that his outspoken criticism was harming Krypton’s chances for recovery. We won’t be hearing any more complaints from him.”
Lara bit her lower lip, trying to hide her skepticism. “In order to make your chronicle accurate, I should speak to those men, include their points of view. Let them state in their own words what they originally thought and why they changed their minds. That will be a good way to provide a balanced perspective.”
Zod was instantly troubled. “No, the focus should be on me and my goals. Wasting time on them is merely a distraction. For now, you have enough material to begin writing.” He gestured toward the scaffolding. “I will assign other people to oversee these art projects.”
“Wait! I—I haven’t agreed yet.”
“Of course you have, Lara.” Aethyr patted her on the shoulder in a patroniz
ing gesture. “Of course you have.”
CHAPTER 53
The intense red beams continued to pound into the crater of Kandor, melting through the crust. Enclosed by the distant walls of the broad valley, trapped dust and smoke made the sky thick and hazy. Even up in the mountains, every breath tasted of ozone, burnt metal, and ash.
Though Jor-El covered his face with a snug breathing mask, his eyes still burned and watered. Zor-El stared into the ripples of thermal disturbance that radiated from the pulsing Rao beam. No-Ton and his technicians bustled about, amazed and intimidated by what they were doing.
All day, every day, as soon as the red sun rose high enough to charge the collectors, energy was funneled to the focusing point to generate the Rao beam. The drilling continued unabated until sunset, at which point the beam weakened and finally faded. After dark, the brothers ate premade meals in their temporary hut and reviewed the current day’s progress and the next day’s plans with No-Ton and his team. The two pored over cartography sheets and depth-analysis simulators to get a better picture of the inexplicable shifts in Krypton’s core.
Each evening, Jor-El spoke with Lara in Kryptonopolis. Just seeing her image on the communication plate lifted his spirits. When she mentioned that Zod had asked her to be his official biographer, he had mixed feelings and sensed that she did, too. His brother expressed doubts about the Commissioner’s motives and tactics, especially after Tyr-Us’s warnings.
Jor-El told him not to worry. “Lara isn’t easily swayed. She’ll tell the truth, whether Zod likes it or not.”
“He may well censor her.”
Jor-El frowned, recalling many former encounters with the man. “Yes, he’s done that plenty of times before.”
The Commissioner sent brusque official messages encouraging Jor-El to complete his task as quickly as possible and return to his weapons development work. He even suggested that Zor-El come to Kryptonopolis and offer his help and insights, now that his concerns about the core pressure were being addressed. Zor-El gave a noncommittal answer, hesitant to reconsider his opinion of the man.
The Last Days of Krypton Page 27