Supergirl (2 page)

"Now, let's see what you can create," he said. "Press your fingers just here, Kara . . . right . . . press hard." The matterwand squawked protestingly.

"Oh, darling, you can do better than that," Alura said.

"Of course she can," Zaltar agreed, a trifle obsequiously. "Give it a try, Kara. Let your imagination fly!"

Kara drifted away, holding the wand now high, now low, making big circles and S's in the air. Alura watched her daughter with the same gratified smile with which she'd watched Kara take her first steps, listened to her say her first word, and welcomed home her first A-plus from kindergarten for her essay on "The Electron Wave Functions for Kryptonian Covalent Bonding.''

Meanwhile, Zaltar hid the Omegahedron behind the tree sculpture. All he'd need was for Alura to find out he'd, er, well, borrowed the Omegahedron.

"So, Zaltar." Alura turned with a cool smile. "I hear from my husband, Zor-El, that you prattle about leaving Argo City. Now, really, Zaltar! For what? And to go where?"

"Parts unknown." He waved grandly at his spaceship.

"In that?" Alura said. "No, no, don't look so hurt, dear Zaltar, I'm sure it's a fine spaceship. But . . . even if you could, why go anywhere? Why leave Argo City?"

He answered her seriously. "To find out what lies beyond the veil."

"Danger," Alura said with conviction.

Zaltar raised his eyebrows. "Adventure"

"Oh, Zaltar, you may be a Great Artist, but you have the mind of a child! Out there is nothing but—death."

The mind of a child? Oh, really! "Out there is life, Alura. Life! Life, life, life! I am an artist. I can no longer limit myself to Argo City. My imagination is too complex, too vast for this little, petty, creeping place."

Alura frowningly stared at the tree sculpture.

"If you want my opinion, Zaltar—" she said.

"Actually, dear lady, I don't."

"—in
my
opinion," she went on, circling the tree, "you're really starting to repeat yourself with all this airy, glittery, artsy-smartsy stuff!"

Zaltar started to breathe hard. "You certainly have a way with words" The criticism had touched a tender nerve. "Yes, I like your intellectual approach. High-class!" He tapped the Omegahedron irritably with his foot. It rolled away toward Kara.

Totally absorbed in playing with the matterwand, Kara neither noticed the Omegahedron rolling toward her, nor paid any attention to what the adults were talking about. It was sure to be bo-
ring
. She lifted the matterwand a fraction of a millimeter. There. Her sculpture was definitely coming along. She might just decide to become a Great Artist. This, uh, creature she was making—it was definitely original. True, it didn't look like much yet, but it certainly, already, had a vague resemblance to an insect. Just a bit more work with the matterwand. . .

"And it's just because of
that
sort of uninformed response to my work," Zaltar was saying to Alura, "as well as a few other things—it's just because of that that I'm leaving. Going to Venus. Hitting the road. Tomorrow. Or the next day at the latest. My bags are packed."

"Zaltar, Zaltar, calm yourself. You founded this city. Have you forgotten that we were nothing but a bunch of shivering refugees from Krypton when you brought us here to the Inner Dimension?''

How could he forget? Someone was always reminding him, and always in the same, wornout words.
You founded this city . . . we were nothing but a bunch of raggedy refugees . . . You have a responsibility. . .
Well, forget the responsibility!

"The Guardians have that responsibility now, Alura," he said. "I'm an artist. My work comes first. Other people—second!" He stopped, unsure if he'd just said something profound or simply profoundly asinine.

"How can you create beauty with a selfish heart?" Alura reproached him, and then her sternly serious expression was almost ruined with a smile of pleasure. Not recognizing that the idea was definitely shopworn, she thriftily tucked it away in her mind for a return engagement. Maybe at the next Argo City Is a Fun City Party, she'd find the right moment to bring it out. There was that young musician who was sure to be there. . . How very pleasant to have a conversation with him spiced with a few words of intellectual significance . . .
and as I was saying to Professor Bel-Al, only the other day, How can one create beauty. . .

Kara was still working on her insect creation, but with less enthusiasm. Really, it was not only disappointingly unlike the beautiful things Zaltar seemed to create so effortlessly, but, actually, to be dead honest about it, spectacularly ugly. Ugly. She looked up at the sound of the adults' contentious voices. Oh, dear. She loved them both, but, somehow, they refused to love each other. Why were grown-ups so dumb sometimes?

The Omegahedron now stopped its rolling journey and came to rest near Kara's feet. Brightening, she picked it up and, almost without thought, touched it to her nasty little insect. Just a tiny touch. But at once, the spiky creature which, a moment before, had rested inert and repulsive on Kara's hand, shuddered and flicked its wings. Its color changed as life force poured through it; it brightened, glowed, and glittered as if encrusted with diamonds. Another flick of its jeweled wings and it rose in a slow, stately flight, circling high above Kara's head.

She watched it, delighted. She had made that! The circles grew smaller, and it flew closer to her. Delight became shaded with fear. The creature was still ugly, and so strange and spiky. It looked as if it could tear her flesh to shreds. Closer and closer it flew to her. "Go awayl No!" She brushed it away.

The spiky new creature careened toward the membrane which enclosed the city like a skin.

"Stop!" Zaltar yelled. Too lateI It broke through the membrane and disappeared, leaving behind a ragged hole.

At once, the air in the city rushed toward the hole with a sound never before heard in Argo. A long moaning surge of sound, a giant rushing
WHOOOOOSH
. . . A roaring, deafening wave of wind picked up Kara and then the Omegahedron and swept them both along on its crest.

Alura fought the wind to reach her daughter while Zaltar, dazed by the sudden turn of events, shouted, "Kara . . . the Power Source . . . Kara! Kaaa-raaa!"

Dropping the matterwand, Kara grabbed for the Omegahedron as it tumbled past her, through the hole and into Infinity. Terrified, she held desperately to the ragged edge of the membrane.

People came running up, Kara's father in the lead.

"Father! Help me!"

Struggling against the vicious force of the wind, Zor-El snatched up the matterwand and touched Kara. Instantly, she was held fast. He pulled her to safety.

But still the air roared through the opening. The matterwand vibrated furiously in Zor-El's hand. He touched the wand to the membrane and the hole was sealed.

All was quiet again.

Kara and Alura clasped each other in a long embrace.

Zor-El turned on Zaltar. "So it was you who took the Omegahedron."

Zaltar paled, but said with some dignity, "To be precise, it was I who lost it."

Hearing this, Kara freed herself from her mother's embrace. "No, Zaltar, I did it. I was careless—"

"Be quiet, my child," he said, "you're blameless in this" But Kara didn't believe it and even less so when her father spoke again.

"Without the Omegahedron," Zor-El said in somber anger, "Argo City will not survive long. Our lights will slowly grow dim . . . all power in the city will be drained . . . Gradually, everything will come to a halt . . . Everything stopped . . . ended . . . the very air we breathe—"

"I know. I know," Zaltar interrupted in a choked voice. "I know what it means and I will not let it happen. Zor-El! People of Argo City!" He appealed to the crowd. "I'll bring the Omegahedron back to you. I swear I will! I'll chase it to the end of Inner Space and return it to our beautiful city."

"Impossible," Zor-El said grimly. "You, as well as anyone, know that there is no way to leave Argo City. This is our universe, Zaltar, and you will be the cause of its destruction. All that we worked for, all we love, our lives . . . everything, destroyed. And all for a game, a childish prank."

"Argo shall not perish." Zaltar's arm swept toward his spaceship. "I'll go, I'll go this instant! And I'll come back. My trusty little
Traveler
will take me safely through the Binary Chute—"

"What a coward," Zor-El breathed. "Yes, you'd choose instant destruction in the Binary Chute, wouldn't you? And leave the rest of us doomed to a slow death."

The two men, so unlike one another, stared at each other. The assembled people seemed to hold their collective breath. And, unnoticed by all, Kara slipped away and climbed through the hatch into Zaltar's spaceship.

It was silent inside the spaceship. Terribly silent. Kara studied the instrument panel intently. For the first time in her life, Kara was overcome with a sense of mission. At last, her life was going to change; no longer would she be just ordinary Kara. She touched three buttons in sequence, then a glowing dial, another dial, and another.

The small craft vibrated and rumbled to life.

In the plaza, the adults turned toward the sound of the spaceship as it left the pad. Kara's mother pushed to the front of the crowd. "Kara! No!"

The spaceship was floating, wavering toward the Binary Chute.

The crowd responded with cries of alarm and despair. People rushed to the Edge.

"Kara . . . Kara . . . My baby! She'll be killed!"

"She'll survive," Zaltar said. "I promise you, Alura. She's safer than we are Through the Binary . . . through the Warp . . . into another Register—" Kara's father stared at him with hatred, and Zaltar rushed on, "—a pathway from Inner Space to Outer Space . . ."

"You lunatic!"

". . . and gravitational radiation," Zaltar finished in a hurry.

Alura turned to him. "Gravitational radiation? Even if she survives, she'll never be the same."

The odd little spaceship sank deeper into the abyss of the Binary Chute.

The Argoians waited, motionless, helpless, silent, except for Alura's choked sobs. Then, from far, far below, there was a deep pulse of light, a cosmic sigh of farewell. Alura gave one last cry. "Kara!"

And Zaltar, moving heavily, like an old man, turned to Zor-El and said, "I must be sent to the Phantom Zone. The suffering of the Argoians will be short. Mine . . . forever."

Inside the spaceship, Kara was tossed about, hitting first one side, then the other. Her stomach rolled and lurched.
No. . . I won't be sick. . . I refuse. . . I have a mission. . .find the Omegahedron . . . must be strong . . . bring Omegahedron back to . . . oh,

my stomach . . . back to . . . to . . . oh . . . oh . . . Oh, Dear Guardians, I'm sick . . . What have I done? Oh, oh, ohhh . . . Dear Guardians, watch over me . . . take me through this, and I promise. . . I promise . . . on my Word of Argo, I'll never steal a spaceship again . . .

The ship steadied on its course and accelerated. Kara staggered to the window. Out there—blackness deeper than any blackness she had ever known. The blackness of Limbo.

As the ship nipped past the underside of Argo City, Kara had a flash of her beloved city. Argo, city of light, suspended in a lightless void . . .
Argo City. . . good-bye
. . . Again the blackness, the nothingness, and the spaceship moved through time and distance. . . .

All was darkness and chaos. The ship had been swept into a vortex, and the roaring currents sucked it down like a speck of dust. Kara lay nearly senseless, her face blurred with pain and fear.

Into the Eye of Inner Space . . . and as in a dream, everything slowed, everything became softer, brighter. Kara stirred, sighed. The ship itself seemed almost to breathe a human sigh, a thankful, sobbing sigh as it floated in a gentle dance. Ahead, Kara saw the Omegahedron floating in a ring of dazzling light. The precious Power Source . . . so close . . . so terribly, unattainably close . . .

Glowing, tantalizing, the Omegahedron drifted through the Eye of Inner Space with the spaceship behind it.

Kara punched buttons and pulled levers, accelerating and locking the ship onto the track of the Omegahedron. But as the precious Power Source reached the outer edge of the Eye, it picked up speed and once again rocketed off into the maelstrom. A moment later, Kara's ship, too, burst out of the Eye and into the storm.

It began again—the sickening, hurtling, whirling voyage which threatened to obliterate ship and passenger. She willed herself to be strong. She fixed her eyes on the Omegahedron ahead of her . . . always ahead of her. . .

Mercilessly tossed about, the Omegahedron seemed engaged in a singular, mad ballet. Behind it, Kara's ship mimicked its every turn, forcing Kara to experience the journey twice over—once as she watched the Omegahedron tumble and twist, once again as she followed in its exact path.

She groaned but stayed conscious, face pressed against the window. This was not the same Kara of Argo City who had crept with an almost timid determination into the spaceship. Already, the journey had profoundly changed her. She knew with a cosmic certainty that, short of death, she would not again lose the Omegahedron.

For a long time . . . a very long time . . . a time beyond words . . . a time beyond time . . . the Omegahedron, speeding ahead of her through the dark storm of the vortex, was Kara's only hold on reality. As long as she could see it . . . ahead of her, always ahead of her . . . glowing . . . a light in the dark sea of unreality into which she had launched herself . . . then she would not go mad.

A faint glimmer of white light in the distance . . . the all-encompassing darkness diffused . . . pale bands of gleaming white light.
Gravitational radiation
. The words came back to Kara from . . . from . . . Which class? When? She put her hands to her forehead, trying to remember, as if it were important . . .as if it mattered . . . as if, by remembering, she could put off the terrifying knowledge of what those words meant.
Gravitational radiation
. No one could foresee the effect on any particular person. All that was known was that to pass through it meant that you were changed forever.
What if I'm changed into an old woman? . . . or a dog? . . . or an insect?