The Last Days of Krypton (35 page)

General Zod’s army swept back
into Kryptonopolis like a swarm of hungry chewerbugs from the Neejon plains. Some of the soldiers were outraged, some ashamed. All had been thrown off balance. Even the most devoted followers could not believe Zod had been so easily defeated.

As soon as Jor-El saw their expressions, he knew that the tyrant had failed to conquer Argo City, that his warning had arrived in time, and that Zor-El’s shield dome must have held. His relief was tempered, however, by the certainty that the General would try something even worse.

Immediately upon his return, Zod shut himself inside his government palace. During the days it had taken him to move his troops back across the continent, the General’s anger had not cooled. In the meantime, fully seventeen other cities and towns had declared their independence and arrested Zod’s supporters. Dealing with them all would force Zod to stretch his armies much too thin.

The flustered soldiers flooded through the streets and hurried to their communal habitation structures. Exhausted and uncomfortable, many of them stripped off their uniforms. Jor-El could tell that most of the civilian population was unnerved by what they had seen during the brief siege. And they all knew that the conflict wasn’t over.

In the meantime, feeling lost without any concrete, objective information about what had happened at Argo City—and completely cut off from his brother—Jor-El checked an anomalous reading from his distant early-warning array, only to discover that his brother
had
sent him a coded message, disguised as an astronomical signal. Chuckling at the unorthodox method, Jor-El learned that Argo City had deactivated the shield as soon as the invading army retreated. While the dissidents were preparing their response, Jor-El saw how he could help, and he secretly transmitted his idea to Zor-El. Now, if the separate pieces could fit together…

Finally, after leaving Kryptonopolis in tense uncertainty for half a day, Zod emerged from his headquarters looking taller, harder, a whirlwind contained within a crisp new uniform. He seemed more indomitable than ever.

Jor-El noticed that the most dedicated groups of soldiers and Sapphire Guards were strategically stationed throughout the streets in a determined show of strength. Zod’s planned announcement must be so calamitous that the General himself feared his own people might rise up against him. Tensions were at a breaking point. By now public opinion in Kryptonopolis was turning against him, though the Ring of Strength held any criticism in check with intimidation. For now, at least, their tactics were sufficient, but Jor-El could see that Zod’s hold on the people was starting to crumble.

Anger made the General’s razor-edged voice loud enough that he no longer needed special amplifiers. “We must show those backward thinkers of Argo City that General Zod will not be trifled with. Clear the Square of Hope!”

Jor-El felt utterly alone in the huge crowd. How he longed for Lara to be there beside him. Watching the General’s expression, he knew that his worst fears were about to be realized. Zod was about to step off a cliff into damnation.

“The people of Argo City have made their choice. I will launch one of the nova javelins against them,” he announced with finality. “May Zor-El and his people find mercy under the red light of Rao, for they will find none from me.”

As he issued his fateful order, General Zod experienced neither guilt nor glee. Only satisfaction and liberation.

Based on what had happened to the moon of Koron long ago, Zod had a healthy respect for Jax-Ur’s warheads. By his best guess, even one of the javelins would disintegrate the whole peninsula and vaporize part of the continent around Argo City, shield or no shield. It would leave a scar a hundred times more vast than the crater of Kandor.

Zor-El would get what he deserved.

The General envisioned what might happen as the nova javelin struck. The force-field dome would collapse, and waves of incinerating heat would reduce the population of Argo City to ash. Even if the dome somehow held, the ground all around would be flash-melted. Quakes would rip apart the surface, flatten the buildings into piles of rubble. The sea would boil, and molten lava would roar up from beneath Argo City. Zod could imagine the cacophony of terrified screams in the brief instant before they were cut off. Those deeply satisfying thoughts had finally convinced him to take this terrible action.

And so he gave the order.

In the Square of Hope, one of the circular coverplates hummed, vibrated, and split apart to reveal the weapon underground. Slowly, one of the golden warheads rose out of the pit like a rapidly growing spike-weed. Coolant steam curled around the golden shaft; the fuel tanks had been fully charged.

Zod could not tear his eyes from the beautiful weapon. “Set the coordinates for Argo City.”

“Set coordinates for Argo City!” Koll-Em snapped.

No-Ton, still down in the control room, responded that the weapon was ready. His voice held a faint quaver.

Zod spotted a shaken-looking Jor-El standing alone in the crowd, his pale hair in disarray.
Good.
“Prepare to launch.” His heart pounded with anticipation, and he watched with fire in his eyes and in his mind. He felt very alive.

But before the javelin could launch in a plume of exhaust and flames, the circular door of a second weapons pit split open. Another nova javelin rose slowly into the open air.

The already nervous crowd began to mutter. Aethyr looked at Zod in alarm. “You can’t launch two of them. You could crack open the whole planet.”

“I did not order this,” Zod shouted. “Abort the second launch!”

Instead of retracting, though, the second nova javelin continued to rise until the lift platform also locked into place. Then, unexpectedly, a third pit opened.

And a fourth.

Zod’s soldiers shouted in dismay. Even they could grasp the terrifying consequences of launching so many doomsday weapons. Every person on Krypton had seen the smashed moon in the night sky.

“Stop this! Abort the launch!”

Another coverplate opened, and another, until finally all fifteen nova javelins stood starkly in the open air like a hideous forest of death. The golden rockets pivoted slightly on their launch rods, acquiring their target.

This could not be happening. Zod knew only one person who could help. He bellowed into the crowd. “Jor-El, I command you to stop this!”

But the scientist simply spread his hands. “The controls were old and unreliable, the systems deteriorated. You’ve brought about your own downfall, General Zod. And now you’ve doomed the rest of us with you.”

“No!” With an ineffectual shout, Zod ran toward the access doorway that led down into the control tunnels, knocking aside the terrified people who stood in his way.

Before he could get inside, all fifteen nova javelins launched.

Blinding shafts of yellow light
and fire spat from exhaust cones. With an earsplitting rumble and a high-pitched whine, the doomsday weapons hurtled into Krypton’s sky.

“Stop!” Zod yelled at the air, as if the ancient devices might obey his order.

The trails of fire and smoke climbed upward, scribing Krypton’s epitaph upon the heavens. The General paused and stood white-faced, unable to tear his eyes away. Nam-Ek stared in fascination at the exhaust plumes and vapor trails, apparently thinking they were beautiful. Aethyr fell to her knees. The streaking missiles raced high across the sky. The end was surely coming.

Zod pushed his way down the stairs and raced along the sterile, white-walled halls to the control chamber. There, No-Ton and four technicians stood in pasty-faced helplessness before the banks of guidance systems. Zod stormed in and hammered at the controls, trying to realign the target vectors. The systems did not respond.

He grabbed No-Ton by the front of his laboratory tunic. “We’ve got to stop this! Destroy the weapons. They must have a self-destruct mechanism.”

No-Ton lashed out at Zod, no longer intimidated by the man. “After the incident at the Rao-beam installation, you specifically ordered us to deactivate any systems that could be used to sabotage the nova javelins. You
instructed
us to disconnect the self-destruct capability because you were afraid someone might stop you from launching them.”

Zod cursed. “Then change their course! Get rid of them somehow. They will blow up all of Krypton.”

“General, there is
nothing
we can do!” Frantic technicians yanked out crystal after crystal from control decks, but it did no good.

Filmscreens transmitted high-resolution images from the telescopes and monitoring dishes in Jor-El’s distant early-warning array. The nova javelins continued to burn, thrusting higher.

“They should reach the zenith soon and begin their plunge to Argo City,” the scientist said, his voice oddly brittle. “After that, the whole planet will break apart. The chain reaction could take minutes, it could take a month. This is uncharted scientific territory for me.” Zod didn’t like the flare of defiance in No-Ton’s eyes. The scientist sniffed. “If there’s anything you wish to say to your followers, now may be your last chance to do it.”

Zod desperately needed to find someone else to punish for this debacle. “Why did this fault occur? I ordered only one weapon to be launched. What caused them all to take off? Who is responsible?”

“What does it matter? Maybe the weapons were all linked somehow. Maybe this is a final trick that Jax-Ur played upon later generations, his revenge against anyone who uncovered his stockpile. There’s no stopping it now.”

“Get Jor-El in here!” Zod shouted.

One of the female technicians gasped. She bent over the display screen. “General! Look at this.” The telescope array tracked the progress of the nova javelins, and on the image, the sky had turned darker, more purple, full of stars. “The parabolic trajectory is wrong. The javelins have changed course!”

Zod shoved his way closer. “How so? Where are they headed now? What part of Krypton will they strike?”

“It doesn’t matter,” No-Ton insisted. “With that much firepower, any impact will blow the whole planet apart.”

The technician shook her head vigorously. “No, they’ve achieved escape velocity. They’re…they’re heading out into space.”

Zod couldn’t believe what he had heard. “To space? Are we safe, then?” He spun toward No-Ton. “Is it an accident, or was it planned?”

“I set the coordinates for Argo City myself, General. As you ordered. The missiles have completely deviated from their program.”

Clustered like a flock of migratory birds, all fifteen nova javelins soared out of the last wisps of Krypton’s atmosphere and clawed their way free of the planet’s gravity well.

“Are they just going to disperse?” He felt a sudden, giddy hope. “Will they detonate where they can cause no harm?”

No-Ton sat back, pale with disbelief. “Who can know, General? This is beyond me. When the rockets run out of fuel, they might eventually circle around and fall into Rao. We could have a reprieve after all.”

The words reminded Zod of the instabilities Jor-El had long predicted in the sun. If fifteen nova javelins plunged into the red giant, might such incredible explosions finally trigger the sun to go supernova? He wanted to scream in frustration.

The observing telescopes increased their magnification, and the view shifted. Now Zod finally saw the intended target of the doomsday weapons. No-Ton and the other technicians gasped. Zod clenched his fist. “Damn him!”

Aethyr stumbled into the control room, looking drained and terrified. “I wanted to be with you at the end.”

Zod showed his teeth in a bitter smile. “There will be no end. Not today.”

A haloed ball of ice and rock filled the screen, surrounded by a vaporous coma and a long feathery tail. Loth-Ur’s Hammer.

Like precisely targeted arrows, the nova javelins streaked toward the heart of the comet. All fifteen struck within seconds of each other. The combined explosion released five times as much force as the blast that had obliterated Koron. Filters automatically drowned out a percentage of the glare before the screens themselves overloaded. Outside, the distant detonation created a brief new sun in Krypton’s sky.

All that remained of Loth-Ur’s Hammer was an expanding cloud of energized gas and the sparkling residue of the greatest weapons display Krypton had ever seen.

The comet was vaporized, no longer a threat. The world had been saved.

The weapons had been sabotaged.

And Zod knew that Jor-El was the man responsible.

In the confusion and chaos
after the missile launches, Jor-El could have escaped from Kryptonopolis. He could have raced back to his estate or fled to Argo City. But he would never leave Lara behind.

Like the ancient philosopher Kal-Ik, who had spoken the truth even though he knew that Chieftain Nok would execute him for it, Jor-El had done what was necessary. Even though he had saved the planet, General Zod would quite likely kill him. This was a betrayal of unprecedented magnitude.

Nam-Ek came for him, his face a thunderstorm of rage. Jor-El had expected a full squad of Zod’s Sapphire Guards and several members of the Ring of Strength, but the burly mute alone was more than capable of hauling him off to the government palace. Unafraid, and proud of what he had achieved, Jor-El prepared to face his nemesis. He would not back down.

Ever since Zod had erected his pretentious statue, the government chambers had begun to take on the appearance of a throne room. Now, that was where the General waited for Jor-El. Zod sat in a squarish, bulky chair on a raised platform with Aethyr at his right hand, icy and beautiful.

Nam-Ek released the scientist with a forward shove, making him stumble. Jor-El caught himself and tried to regain his dignity by straightening his white robes. He touched the curved S family symbol on his breast, drawing strength from a lineage that dated back to Sor-El and the time of the Seven Army Conference. Without a word, he met Zod’s gaze.

Sour-faced Koll-Em entered the throne chamber pulling Lara roughly along, despite her advanced pregnancy. When she saw Jor-El, Lara broke free of the man’s sweaty grip and ran to her husband. He held her, kissed her lips, and buried his face in her amber hair, certain that Zod meant to execute them both.

With a glower, the General curtly dismissed Koll-Em. When the young noble pouted at being left out of this confrontation, Zod responded with a look that made him scuttle away in silence. Finally the General said, his voice a low burn, “I would ask you to explain yourself, but I am not interested in your answer.”

Jor-El was not intimidated. “You’re alive now because of what I have done. Shouldn’t you be grateful?”

“You defied me!” Zod launched himself to his feet as if he himself had become a dangerous projectile.

“I protected all Kryptonians from your criminally stupid decisions.” Jor-El took a step closer to the blocky chair. “And now it’s time for you to be removed from power. I should have done this long ago.”

Zod froze at the audacity of his statement; then he began to chuckle. Beside him, Aethyr laughed aloud, and even Nam-Ek guffawed wordlessly. Jor-El ignored them. “General Zod, your rule is at an end.”

Zod exchanged glances with his two companions, as if one of them could explain the joke. “And how will you accomplish that? I am intrigued. You have always been a thinker, a man of ideas rather than actions.”

Jor-El raised his eyebrows. “Actions? I am the one who destroyed the Rao-beam generator so you couldn’t use it again as a weapon.” Aethyr and Zod looked even angrier than they had been before, but he continued. “My brother and I coordinated our plans for stopping you. In the days since your armies withdrew from Argo City, Zor-El has pulled together an extensive resistance from all across Krypton. Your senseless attack was enough to goad many other city leaders into action. Even now they are marching on Kryptonopolis.”

Zod laughed with scorn now. “A ragtag handful of poorly armed rebels? They can’t possibly stand against me. I have been building my military defenses for months, and my whole army is here. We have weapons based on your own designs and wave after wave of expendable foot soldiers.”

Jor-El smiled. “Perhaps. But I have better technology and greater imagination.”

Zod looked at Aethyr and Nam-Ek, suddenly uncertain. Jor-El touched the controls hidden inside his loose robe.

The force-field generator he had placed near Zod’s throne activated. A small dome immediately appeared, trapping Zod, Nam-Ek, and Aethyr inside a hemispherical prison three meters in diameter. Nam-Ek roared and threw himself at the curved wall, but his blows bounced off ineffectually. Zod also hammered and shouted, but it did him no good.

“Zor-El smuggled me the plans,” he explained to Lara. “The field will contain the General until my brother and his army arrive.”

Her beautiful eyes were still troubled. “But the rest of Zod’s forces are out there. Even if a rebel military is coming, they can’t defeat all of Kryptonopolis.”

“They can if we divide the General’s followers into much smaller groups.” He pressed another button, and a second force-field dome appeared, greater in circumference. This one slammed down over the whole government palace.

Then he activated the third dome, larger still, stretching halfway across the Square of Hope and capping the others like a set of nested eggs. There, it cut off the hundreds who had gathered out in the streets, separating them from their weapons and military equipment. By design, the force-field barrier crashed into the tall statue of Zod, severing it in two, and the pieces toppled to the flat tiles.

Two more domes extended in stages out to the perimeter of Kryptonopolis, again dividing the remaining soldiers.

Watching the furiously cursing Zod in his shimmering prison, Jor-El felt tremendous satisfaction. He held Lara, pressed her rounded belly against him, and knew that his son would be born on a free Krypton after all, a world that no longer faced the threat of imminent annihilation.

“Now we wait, Lara. You and I, here together.”