The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [126]
As they lay together on rumpled sheets of glistening websilk, Zod was both exhausted and energized by their passion and their shared dreams. He did indeed consider himself the savior of Krypton, despite the constant troubling complaints from the remaining gadflies.
Aethyr rolled over and studied his expression for a long moment. “You are bothered by something. I can tell.”
“I pay little attention to the other would-be leaders. We’ve removed most of the loudest ones, and look how much stronger Krypton has become. What troubles me more, though, is that I’ve been sensing a certain hesitation in Lara. I watched her expression when we unveiled my statue. She did not seem altogether impressed.”
Aethyr propped herself up on one elbow. “That’s not surprising. Your statue is central to the Square of Hope, just as Jax-Ur’s statue once was. We placed Lara in charge of the city’s greatest artwork, and you left her out of the project. I would certainly be miffed if you ever did something like that to me.”
“She has her history to write, and that is her priority.” Zod let out a troubled sigh. “And sometimes Jor-El makes me uneasy, too. He does not follow my cause with his heart. He did not join us out of loyalty as you did, my dear, or the way Nam-Ek does.”
She chuckled. “Nam-Ek would follow you off a precipice. He has no opinion about the politics involved.”
“I once thought the same of Jor-El. Oh, he rationalizes his cooperation, but that can change. He thinks for himself—too much, I fear.”
Aethyr snuggled closer, put her arms around Zod’s neck, and stroked his face. “Jor-El is an extremely intelligent man with a strong moral code. He’s probably guessed that you’re hiding things from him.”
“You’re right. I will have to watch him closely.”
CHAPTER 57
After discovering that Tyr-Us was truly gone, Zor-El did not dare tell anyone where he was going. For too long he had given his brother’s benefactor the benefit of the doubt, but now he felt duty bound to formalize the resistance against the self-proclaimed ruler. And he had to find a way to get Jor-El away from Zod before it was too late.
He arrived at Borga City and demanded to speak to Shor-Em. Zor-El hid his personal floater vehicle on dry land, then sought out one of the gondoliers who plied the canals through the marshes. After securing a ride, he sat in the narrow boat, mulling over what he knew and what he suspected about Zod. Fortunately, the gondolier asked no questions.
The boatman pulled up to a cluster of moss-draped pilings and secured his craft to a silver ring. Zor-El looked up at the main scarlet balloon at the center of Borga City, from which the satellite platforms extended. Small inflatable elevators tethered to the piling were available to anyone who wished to use them. After thanking the gondolier, Zor-El stepped onto the nearest platform and opened the valve so that marsh gases filled the anchored balloon. When the elevator began to rise quickly toward the main floating city, he adjusted the flow of gas until the balloon reached the proper height. Zor-El stepped off.
On the interlocked platforms, the citizens of Borga City lived in open-framework homes, little more than awnings stretched across poles. Subsidiary bridges and platforms were held up by their own flotation sacks, the separate districts named according to the colors of their centerpiece balloons.
Shor-Em and his city council met in the emerald district, a high-floating dock next to the scarlet central balloon. The dissident city leader and his noble advisers sat on an open deck, sipping from steaming cups of tea.
Seeing Zor-El, Shor-Em stood up from his cushions and exclaimed, “I hoped you would come! We need each other’s support against this menace.” He had curly blond ringlets