The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [103]
At the time he’d designed the structure, the older genius had already been caught in the claws of the Forgetting Disease. His behavior had gradually grown more irrational as his thoughts, memories, and grasp on reality slipped away. Jor-El had loved his father, but he had not understood what was happening to the man. The best doctors on Krypton had said there was nothing they could do. And that helplessness and confusion—that problem he could never solve—terrified Jor-El.
His father was far too intelligent not to grasp how the terrible illness would progress, how he would slowly degenerate until he lost his mind entirely. Jor-El couldn’t imagine how the man had endured such knowledge.
On the far milky wall of the tower he saw the bold, even defiant serpentine family symbol inside its diamond-shaped outline. Yar-El had placed this mark prominently here. Even as the disease worsened, the older man had not forgotten who he was or what his family meant to him.
Fascinated, even compelled, Jor-El stepped close to the smooth interior wall, face-to-face with the large symbol. “What is it you want from me, Father? If only you had spoken to me back when it was possible.” With a finger he traced the S-shaped curve.
And at his touch, the lines began to glow. A circular section of the tower wall surrounding the mark shimmered with a lambent light.
Yar-El appeared. His image stood tall and majestic in his scientist’s robes. His silver hair had been brushed back, and he had placed a fine chain on his forehead. His voice was stentorian, his words fraught with meaning. Jor-El couldn’t remember the last time he had heard his father speak with such power and conviction.
“Jor-El, my son, I have left this message for you. I created this tower for a purpose I can no longer see. I trust you to understand what I do not, for too much is slipping away from me now. This may be the last time my mind can hold all of these thoughts. I feel so much draining out of me like water through a sieve….”
Jor-El realized what his father had done. The family symbol had been set down as a pattern covered with a veneer of message crystal! His own warm touch had activated it.
Yar-El continued, “I once felt sorry for those who could not understand my calculations or my theories. Can you imagine how much more terrible it is to know that you once had that clarity and understanding, but that it is now gone? No matter how hard I clutch at them, the memories flit away.
“With my analytical mind I achieved many wondrous things, yet I paid for those triumphs. The fire that burns brightest also burns out most swiftly. Our race is changing. I am an anomaly—as are my sons. Both sons.
“Beware. It is not enough to flaunt your genius. A truly integrated Kryptonian uses both heart and mind. By joining the two, you will achieve your ultimate potential. You can be a true superman.”
The image flickered, and Yar-El shuddered. His intangible gaze turned until he was looking directly at his son. “I am sorry I could not be there for you. I know you, Jor-El. I know your brother. Hold tight to yourselves. I wish we could walk together into the future. Instead, the future is up to you.”
“Father!” He reached out to the image. Old Yar-El bowed his head, closed his eyes, and vanished as the recording ended, leaving Jor-El inside the tower, feeling more alone than ever.
He worked for days, tinkering with the separate pieces of Donodon’s ship, trying to understand how they fit together. The Commission for Technology Acceptance had not been terribly meticulous in keeping detailed records as they dismantled the vessel, and now Jor-El had to use his best efforts to put them back in the right place.
Despite numerous attempts, no matter how much care he used in taking apart component after component, the riddle of the alien’s stardrive was beyond him. Even though Zod was waiting for him to make some great breakthrough, Jor-El could barely grasp the basics, and he was a long way from designing a