The Last Days of Krypton

by Kevin J. Anderson

  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.”

  CHAPTER 72

  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.

  CHAPTER 73

  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.