The Last Days of Krypton

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Zod frowned. “What does this mean? What are you showing me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He pointed to the intersecting lines. “Loth-Ur’s Hammer will hit us—in four months’ time.”

  The Commissioner sighed. “Another disaster? Did you not also insist that great Rao itself was going to go supernova?”

  “It will.” Jor-El did not back down. “But this is even more imminent—”

  “And did I not fund a hugely expensive drilling project to release the pressure in our core with a tremendous lava geyser—a geyser that, incidentally, devastated the entire valley of Kandor?”

  “Yes, and we averted a catastrophe. But what does that—”

  “One catastrophe after another, Jor-El. What will it be next week?” He sounded both paternal and patronizing.

  Jor-El couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Look at the data, Commissioner. Have No-Ton double-check everything, if you like. The conclusion is inescapable.”

  Unbelievably, Zod responded with sarcasm. “My conclusion is this: Any reasonable calculation will show that being threatened by a comet now, of all times, would be an inconceivable coincidence. Solar disturbances, tectonic upheaval, massive waves, and a threatening comet?”

  “But that’s just it, Commissioner—it’s not a coincidence. These things are all related to each other by—”

  But the Commissioner folded his hands and met the scientist’s gaze. “This comes at a very bad time, Jor-El. All the sporadic and ineffectual resistance to my leadership is now becoming organized, and several major cities are forming an alliance against me. Your own brother has followed Borga City’s lead in evicting all of my supporters, and after I humored him with his warnings of a core pressure buildup! Does he feel he owes me nothing?” His voice rose as his rant gathered momentum. “There has even been some talk among town leaders of talking military action to overthrow me. Me! After all I’ve accomplished for Krypton. This is a crisis.”

  Jor-El dug in his heels and stiffened with anger. “Not compared to the comet. You are faced with an impending disaster far worse than the loss of Kandor.” He flicked his fingers dismissively at the nearest stack of papers on Zod’s desk. “This nonsense won’t matter unless all Krypton pulls together to find a way to prevent this disaster. But we must act soon. Maybe we can reconfigure the Rao beam to—”

  Suddenly Aethyr, looking flushed and haughty, rushed into the office. “Zod, it has happened just as you feared. Another emergency.”

  The Commissioner came to his feet and stepped around his desk, taking Aethyr’s warning more seriously than Jor-El’s entire presentation. “Which one now?”

  “Shor-Em.” She pushed aside Jor-El’s still-projecting device, cutting off the orbital traces and the comet images without bothering to look at them. She slapped a single amethyst message crystal into the center of the cleared surface and activated it. First blurry, then sharp, the projection showed Shor-Em looking effeminate yet noble with his curly golden hair and the circlet on his forehead.

  The Borga City leader spoke in a pompous voice. “Zod’s grandiose ambitions can no longer be tolerated. I, Shor-Em, am the true heir to the Kryptonian Council and announce the formation of a new government. Eleven members have already been chosen and will serve the needs of the people. I therefore declare Borga City the new capital of Krypton.”

  The Commissioner’s face grew red with outrage as the message continued.

  “Zod is only a pretender who seized power in our most vulnerable moment, while we reeled in shock. He took advantage of the situation. Is that the sort of leader Krypton needs? I think not. Zod sees no reason but his own. He does not abide by the rule of law.

  “Follow me, and we will return Krypton to its former glory!” In the image, Shor-Em held up an ornate document, from which he read: “‘We, the undersigned leaders, agree to abide by the laws of the New Council and hereby pledge to support the New Council with our loyalty and our resources.’”

  The names of other population centers and their leaders began scrolling beside the man’s image. Jor-El felt a cold lump in his stomach when he saw Argo City also listed there, and Zor-El’s name. Zod seemed to have forgotten he was standing there.

  Shor-Em continued with finality, “We will leave Zod to his old, dead city. His brief reign is ended.” The city leader’s image shimmered and vanished.

  Aethyr stared at the ruddy fury boiling up in Zod’s face. Jor-El tried to gain the commissioner’s attention again, insistently holding up his crystals. He tried one last time, knowing it was futile. “Loth-Ur’s Hammer is far more—”

  Zod looked at him with both anger and anguish. He clearly wasn’t sure of his decision, but forcibly convinced himself. “Jor-El, I will lose this war unless I act now.” Leaving Jor-El behind, he followed Aethyr toward the door, already shouting for his Ring of Strength. “I don’t have time for comets.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Seeing Zod’s reactionary response to the growing defiance of other cities, Jor-El worried that the Commissioner might cut off public access to the communication plates. He had hoped the man would put aside his own grandiose concerns when faced with an emergency that went beyond politics and personal feuds. But though he expected a rational reaction from Zod, he was not entirely surprised. Zod made decisions based on how they affected him, not how they affected Krypton. Jor-El could no longer rely on the Commissioner. He had to take his own action, find other help.

  While Zod met in secret councils with his Ring of Strength, engrossed in planning a response to Shor-Em, Jor-El seized the opportunity to contact his brother. Zor-El would understand the threat of the comet, and he would see the games and stupidity as the insignificant distraction that they were.

  Unfortunately, when his brother’s face sharpened into clarity on the flat plate, he was formal, even stiff. “Give me good news, Jor-El. Tell me you’ve finally realized what Commissioner Zod is doing. Tell me that you’ll come join me and Shor-Em and the legitimate New Council.”

  Jor-El was surprised by the vehemence in his brother’s voice. “There’s a new threat to Krypton, and Commissioner Zod won’t do anything about it. Put aside these foolish rivalries and listen to me.”

  “Foolish rivalries? The future of our civilization is at stake. Can’t you see what Zod is doing?” He raised a finger. “Where is Tyr-Us? Gil-Ex? All those who have spoken out against him? Zod made them disappear, probably killed them. And don’t quote that ridiculous explanation that they’ve ‘retired from public view.’”

  He had never seen his brother so angry. “Zor-El, what’s the matter with you? Listen to me—”

  “What’s the matter? When Tyr-Us warned me about Zod, I thought he was paranoid. I told him to hide in our parents’ dacha. But he vanished. The house was empty, ransacked. I saw blood. He’s gone.”

  Jor-El struggled to absorb what his brother was saying. He had known nothing of this.

  “Then last night our mother and Alura were attacked by Zod’s fanatics in a failed abduction attempt.”

  Jor-El reeled. “Attacked? Are they all right? Tell me what happened. Are you sure the Commissioner’s people were responsible?”

  “They are both unharmed. My Society of Vigilance got there in time, chased away one of the abductors while the other one jumped off a bridge. Thankfully, we were prepared.”

  The white-haired scientist could not fit the pieces together in his mind. “Then how do you know they were Zod’s men? Why would the Commissioner target our mother or your wife?” This made no sense to him.

  “Because I evicted his followers from Argo City. I’m convinced Zod wanted hostages he could threaten to kill if I didn’t capitulate.”

  “But if you have no proof, you can’t make these wild accusations.”

  “You know it’s true. You can’t be so blind.”

  Jor-El drew a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “In truth, I would not be surprised.” Then he pushed stubbornly ahead, refusing to be sidetracked the way Zod him
self had been. “Listen to me. This is science you can’t ignore. Please!”

  The other man remained steely and trembling with anger. “What could possibly be more important than a threat to my wife and our mother—”

  “This. The end of all life on Krypton!” Jor-El inserted one of the projection crystals into the side of the communication plate and displayed the image of the comet, its jets of outpouring gas, and the deadly intersection of orbital paths. “Look at the orbits.”

  On the screen, Zor-El frowned as he immediately grasped the implications. “What does your precious Commissioner have to say about this?”

  “He’s more concerned about Shor-Em and Borga City. We can’t rely on him.” Jor-El couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “While the comet hurtles toward us, Zod rallies his armies. I saw him studying tactical maps. He won’t tolerate the way Shor-Em has challenged him.”

  “Are you talking about a military assault on Borga City? Is he mad? My first duty is to warn Shor-Em to prepare his defenses.”

  Jor-El was dismayed by his brother’s reaction. “You, too? We’ll all be killed if we don’t stop the comet. That must be our only priority.”

  “If Zod attacks now, we will be embroiled in a civil war that’s bound to last much longer than four months. No one will even look into the sky as Loth-Ur’s Hammer comes right toward us. This is happening now, Jor-El, right now. We have to prevent it.” His mood changed, and he sounded more urgent. “Come to Argo City and work with me. I couldn’t save Tyr-Us from Zod, but I will not let him corrupt my own brother any further.”

  “Zod won’t just let us leave Kryptonopolis. His Ring of Strength has been watching us carefully.” Jor-El shook his head. “And he may be the only person on Krypton with the resources to save us. If there is even the slightest possiblility I can force him to see reason, or somehow use the tools in Kryptonopolis, then I have to take that chance. We have to take that chance. Everything else is just politics.” He searched his brother’s hardened face. “We used to laugh at people with misplaced priorities like that, Zor-El. Look at my data, I beg you. And then tell me where you want to focus your efforts. Give me your ideas. Otherwise, I’m on my own.” He ended the transmission.

  That night, sailing off the coast, Zor-El sat brooding with Alura on the benches of their gently rocking boat. He had told no one but his wife about Jor-El’s disturbing news.

  Their boat, a cat’s cradle of silver struts and cables, glided across the calm sea. Ninety small sails of different geometric shapes were loosely connected to one another like a vast fabric puzzle, catching errant breezes from any direction. Glowing crystals lined the masts, turning the craft into a spiderweb of colors.

  Zor-El stared at his beloved metropolis on the peninsula. Lit up at night, the spires and hemispherical buildings shone like a mirage. A faintly visible shimmer from the extended force-field barrier above the seawall distorted the stars at the horizon.

  “It seems so peaceful out here, Alura.” It was the first he had spoken in many minutes. “Quite a paradox.”

  The night breeze stirred her dark hair. “How did Shor-Em respond when you warned him about Zod’s attack plans?”

  “Borga City was already on high alert. Shor-Em will remain vigilant, but I have no idea how Zod intends to strike. My brother didn’t offer any details. He was much more concerned about the comet.”

  Alura, as usual, was frank. “Shouldn’t we be concerned about the comet? Jor-El is rarely wrong.” The boat rocked as rippling waves passed them by. Deep beneath the water, a yellowish glow flowed and stirred, like a pool of sentient phosphorescent liquid, then dove deep.

  Zor-El let out a long, sad sigh. “Yes, he’s right. I looked at his data. There’s no question about it.” The black vault of night overhead was peppered with frequent meteors, many from the debris ejected by the spewing lava jet. What drew his attention, though, was the pearlescent cometary arc, as if some ghostly painter had used a wide brush to spread a trail across the night.

  “So beautiful,” Alura said. “And deadly.”

  “Jor-El saw something that none of us noticed while we were preoccupied with ourselves. He said I was falling prey to false priorities, just like I accused Zod of doing. And I can’t dispute that.”

  “So what will you do?” Alura asked.

  “How can I stop a comet? We don’t have the technology. Anything powerful enough to do that would have been squashed by the Commission for Technology Acceptance long ago.” He gritted his teeth as the thoughts grew more definite in his mind. “I can expand my protective barrier. Maybe it can save our city from a cometary impact.”

  He nodded, already planning how to install simple generators. He could raise a whole hemisphere to cover Argo City. “I could offer the barrier to other cities as well. If Jor-El’s worst-case scenario happens, at least some of us might be saved.” Their boat continued to drift on the gentle currents, but Zor-El knew it was just the calm before the storm. “Unless the whole planet is smashed to bits.”

  CHAPTER 64

  Inside Zod’s newly designated war room, Aethyr and Koll-Em studied terrain simulations modeled out of transparent gel. Beside them, Nam-Ek looked on with silent interest. The dark blue fabric of the big mute’s uniform was stretched tight across his muscles; a crimson sash draped from his left shoulder to a gold belt at his waist.

  “The marshes around Borga City are going to pose extreme difficulties for frontal assault,” Aethyr pointed out. “The ground is uncertain, the canals are a maze, and the mud will prevent us from using heavy siege machinery.”

  “Then we’ll bring in wave after wave of large floater platforms filled with soldiers.” Koll-Em sounded eager. “My weakling brother won’t put up much of a fight. He talks a lot, but I doubt his meek followers would find the courage even to throw pebbles down at us from their balloons!”

  Zod said with finality, “There will be no direct military assault.”

  “Then how are we going to defeat them?” whined Koll-Em. “My brother has defied you. You can’t simply ignore that.”

  “I will not ignore it. But I plan to use a much more efficient method to eradicate them and, at the same time, demonstrate my power to the rest of Krypton.”

  “What do you intend, my love?” Aethyr’s eyes flashed.

  Zod ran his fingers over the gel-formed topographical sculpture, caressing them from the mountaintops down to the marshy drainage in the east. “Jor-El has given me the very weapon I need to cauterize this wound. Come, we will take a small party and head north to the mountains. The people of Borga City will never see it coming.”

  Only a small force went to the nearly deserted Rao-beam facility. The group consisted of no more than a dozen men, mostly chosen from the ranks of the former Sapphire Guards.

  After crossing a wasteland of soot, chunks of lava rock, and burned vegetation at the edge of the Kandor valley, Zod’s troops pushed up the steep and narrow mountain roads to the installation. No longer in operation, the tall metal-framed derrick creaked and hummed as breezes whined through it. The focusing lenses, prisms, and powerful Rao batteries had been taken off-line, but still sat ready.

  Several weeks ago, the lava geyser had died away to a burble, which No-Ton had covered with a small force-field cap, precisely following the instructions Zor-El had left behind. A small scientific team had remained to monitor the now-sealed hole. Hearing the troops arrive, the technicians emerged from their battered and dented prefab shacks that huddled among the cold cliffs. No-Ton stared at the Commissioner’s group in surprise.

  Zod announced boldly, “We require this installation for the defense of Krypton, to strike a blow against an enemy even worse than Brainiac—an internal enemy.” When the others didn’t seem to know how to respond, he continued. “I have tried unsuccessfully to be reasonable. Now there can be no other solution than to eliminate the festering sore of Borga City.”

  Standing atop the ridge, Zod turned from the blasted valley of Kandor and looke
d down the other side of the divide, to the east. Beyond the foothills, numerous stream-carved drainages created swampy lowlands. The target was nestled close to the horizon, nearly at the limit of the Rao beam’s range.

  Zod turned to size up the derrick framework. When Jor-El had built the Rao beam, he had designed it to aim the beam down into the crater of Kandor, nothing more; he had not installed automated systems for altering the direction of the carefully aligned beam. Now the whole structure would have to be swiveled around using brute force. “Nam-Ek, turn that heavy projector mechanism. Remember what I showed you on the map?”

  The big man’s muscles bulged as he strained against the cross-hatched structure, swiveling the thick bars that held the focusing lenses. Zod shook his head at the clumsy and imprecise method. “A disappointing oversight,” he said aloud. “We neglected to plan for the possibility of other targets.”

  No-Ton bustled about in distress. Though he was part of the Ring of Strength, the noble-born scientist paid more attention to engineering matters than strategy meetings. “Commissioner, could I please have more technical details? This is very delicate equipment.” He glanced sidelong at Nam-Ek, who continued to wrestle with the machinery. “It could take a day or more for proper realignment and recalibration, depending on the target.”

  Zod drew a deep breath of the razor-edged cold air. “Can’t you do it faster?”

  The scientist stiffened. “Do you want it fast, Commissioner, or accurate? I can do either one, but not both. Which would you prefer?”

  Aethyr came up beside Zod and spoke in a hushed voice. “Another day won’t make any significant difference, my love, but a mistake would be quite embarrassing. Let No-Ton do what he says he needs to do.”

  “Very well.” Zod unfurled his filmpaper map and held it against the gusting breezes. “These are the coordinates. This is your target.”