The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [13]
Zod immediately sensed that this woman was unlike all the dull nobles he dealt with every day. “Vor-On, who is that intriguing creature over there?”
The eager young noble followed Zod’s gaze, and a distasteful frown flickered across his face. “You cannot be interested in her, Commissioner!”
“Why must I explain myself? I asked a simple enough question.”
“Yes, Commissioner. Of course, Commissioner. She’s the third daughter of the house of Ka, something of an outcast, an embarrassment. When her parents tried to disown her, she retaliated by deleting her family name. She insists on being called simply Aethyr.”
“Wonderful.”
“Shameful! She intentionally refuses to live up to her family’s great lineage.”
Zod scratched his beard, contemplating. “Because she does things they disapprove of?”
“Certainly, Commissioner. She doesn’t like her family, and they don’t like her. I don’t know why she insisted on coming to the chariot races, why she would want to be seen with them in their box.”
Zod restrained his smile. Even if his naïve companion couldn’t comprehend the reason, he understood the answer very well. Aethyr probably relished the very discomfort she caused, and she did it on purpose. He found it charming. Looking around, he saw members in the other noble boxes glancing at the Ka seats, frowning at Aethyr, then quickly turning away. So painfully obvious, so artificial. Kryptonians were like players in a stale performance.
“Don’t you see? This is her rebellion, and she flaunts it in front of her family.” He laughed. “Watch how the closer she comes to them, the more they flinch away. It’s all a game to her. Aethyr is smarter than every member of her family. She is a diamond in the rough, Vor-On. In fact, she’s quite beautiful.”
Vor-On responded with horror. “Maybe—if you could see past all the dirt and her flaws. And those…clothes!”
“If she wished, Aethyr could dress herself in clothing that other people told her to wear, but nothing can artificially create that sheer charisma.”
The preparation horns sounded. Fanfares played over tuned resonator systems, drowning out the background noise of the audience. Even under the blazing red sunlight, ornamental lights sparkled from the tops of fluted obsidian columns around the Council seating area. Vor-On immediately turned to the track, glad to concentrate on something more appropriate than Aethyr.
The ground-level gates rolled up, and the beasts emerged from the shadows of the darkened pens. Teams of hrakkas—brawny, short-legged lizards with jagged head crests—plodded forward, three tethered to each floating vehicle. The green-and-tan creatures strained in their yokes as each team hauled its chariot out into the open. The scaly hides bore the marks of noble family sponsors.
Zod narrowed his eyes to watch as his own man emerged. Bushy bearded and broad shouldered, Nam-Ek stood tall at the helm of his vehicle, holding the reins in one thick hand. Zod covered his smug smile as the audience began muttering about the unusual beasts hooked to Nam-Ek’s chariot.
The mute had tamed black-skinned lizards from Krypton’s wild southern continent. Adorned with horns and spines along their bodies, ebony scales, and scarlet head crests, these were feral creatures accustomed to hunting and gutting their own prey. As a trainer, Nam-Ek could be as fierce as the beasts, and he had whipped the three into line. The burly driver appeared utterly confident.
When all chariots were in place at the starting line, bald and grandfatherly Council Head Jul-Us stepped up to the main podium. Among all the resounding cheers, Zod could manage little more than polite applause. Although old Jul-Us was well liked in Kandor, Zod despised the man for his high position. He should have been the head of the Council, but due to political backstabbing and faithless “allies,” Zod had been shunted aside and put in charge of the