The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [146]
“Defending Krypton requires an entirely different sort of thinking—military thinking.” He drew a deep breath. Some of the people turned their faces to gaze adoringly at him, while others averted troubled eyes. “From this day forward, I shall be General Zod.”
General Zod. The title felt so appropriate, so perfect. That announcement should have been the climax of his day.
But then, stealing his glorious moment, the newly grown crystal spires around the square began to shimmer. Flares of light skirled along the facets like electrical bursts, tracing lines of inclusions and flaws.
“What is this?” Zod demanded, forgetting that the voice amplifier patch remained at his throat. His alarmed voice rolled like thunder across the square.
People milled about in confusion; the defeated city leaders cringed, as if this were some sort of punishment from Zod. The crystal spires shone brighter, and the smooth facets began to display an image, a dark-haired man with a steely expression. Cold claws raked down Zod’s spine as he recognized the man.
Zor-El’s voice boomed out. “You do not speak for Krypton, Zod! Argo City defies you. I defy you. And in their hearts, I know that all those here defy you.” His image shouted at the uneasy crowd. “Zod is a criminal against our race. May his reign be as short as it is unwelcome. He tried to abduct or kill my wife and my mother—my wife and mother!” He made a sound of disgust.
Zod shouted, “Stop that signal! How is Zor-El doing this?”
Out in the audience, Jor-El turned quickly away. Lara whispered something in his ear. Then Zod knew that the pale-haired scientist must have modified the tall crystal structures to function as gigantic communication plates.
Before Zod could call the Sapphire Guards to seize Jor-El for interrogation, the Argo City leader called out through his many identical images projected through the facets, “I call on all Kryptonians, all true Kryptonians, to stand against this man who claims to ‘protect’ us by destroying our cities, who resorts to murder to prevent anyone from criticizing him. Zod has shown his true colors.”
The face of Jor-El’s brother flickered and vanished. The crystal spires stopped glowing. And the uproar began.
CHAPTER 68
After humiliating General Zod in such a spectacular and public forum, Zor-El knew that his days were numbered. He had to build up Argo City’s defenses and bring together any others who would fight the tyrant.
While the destruction of Borga City had driven many people into frightened submission, it had also galvanized an uneasy ragtag rebellion into a genuine force. Shor-Em had not gone far enough, and he had never dreamed how Zod would be willing to respond.
The Borga refugees had lost everything, and now they joined any resistance they could find, offering to stand and fight against the tyrant. As they drifted to temporary new homes, they began to build an army that was much more widespread than anything the General had imagined.
In his private villa Zor-El met with powerful merchants, industrialists, deputy leaders, and other volunteers who wanted to join the new resistance. A handful of people had come directly to him after he’d warned them to evacuate from Borga City, making no secret of the fact that they owed him their lives. More and more volunteers came from all across Krypton, and determined members from the Society of Vigilance vigorously sought to weed out any spies sent by Zod.
“General Zod already has an army, powerful weapons, and most of Krypton under his thumb,” said Gal-Eth, the vice mayor of Orvai. He had bristly blond hair and a ruddy face. He had fled his beautiful city in the lake district after the reluctant replacement for the lost Gil-Ex had trudged off to bend his knee in submission to Zod. “How can we protect ourselves against that?”
“We’re the people of Krypton,” Zor-El said. “We can do the impossible.”
“It’s been a long time since we did the impossible,” grumbled shaggy-haired Or-Om, a prominent industrialist from a small mining town in the mountains north of Corril. “The