The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [149]
Lara let out a wry laugh, though the sheer tension in her mind made any sort of laughter difficult. “No complications? That’ll be quite a change, considering how our lives have been going.”
“What do you mean?” Kirana-Tu asked, not understanding the joke. She was supposedly one of the best obstetricians on Krypton, but she had little awareness of outside events. Lara smiled to herself, reminded of Jor-El’s single-mindedness when he focused on a complex technical problem.
“By the way,” the doctor added, as if it were an irrelevant detail, “the baby will be a boy. I thought you’d like to know.”
“A son!” Lara couldn’t wait to tell Jor-El.
Again, the doctor missed the reason for her patient’s excitement. “Well, it had to be one or the other. Would you have been just as excited if I told you it was a daughter?”
“Of course.” Lara was now even more convinced that the two of them would have to slip away from Kryptonopolis and escape from Zod’s oppression. But she also knew they were being watched carefully.
Pleased to have such a clean bill of health, and her news, Lara left the medical center only to find Aethyr and Nam-Ek waiting for her. Both wore implacable expressions. Nam-Ek took one large step forward and grasped Lara’s arm with a broad hand. His grip was like a shackle.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Should I ask what this is about?”
Aethyr stepped forward, looking as if Lara had entirely betrayed her. “If you need to ask, then you are more foolish than even I guessed. Be sure to include that in your seditious historical chronicle.”
“So, you read my journal?” Lara quipped, knowing she could not deny what she had written. Suddenly she could no longer hold in her pent-up dissatisfactions and her rage at what Zod had done. “Was my grammar incorrect? The spelling? Maybe you didn’t like my descriptions. Too many adverbs? Or perhaps I should have taken more creative license in describing Zod. But you did want this to be a history instead of a fantasy, right? Or did I misunderstand you?”
Aethyr didn’t answer. Nam-Ek hustled Lara toward the Square of Hope.
Lara went on, though she knew it would do her no good. “I particularly liked my account of the annihilation of Borga City. Quite vivid prose.” The big mute pulled her arm so hard she nearly stumbled.
“I wanted to add interviews with all those dissidents who so cheerfully changed their minds and conveniently retired, but I couldn’t find any of them. Not a one! Do you suppose something terrible happened to them? Maybe we should tell the General. He’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Aethyr said, “Silence! I won’t hear you speak of him that way.”
“Oh, his actions speak well enough for themselves.”
Nam-Ek was so angry he issued a grunt.
They reached one of the towering emerald crystal spires at the corner of the square. Not long ago, Zor-El’s defiant face had been transmitted from these facets, linking into electronic resonance and communications circuits that Jor-El had added to his father’s original blueprint. Now the gleaming towers had been stripped of all outside connections, power sources, and amenities.
The lattice design had created intentional voids, cavities, and chambers to be modified into rooms. Eventually, these towers were earmarked to become crowded administrative buildings, but at the moment the spiky turrets acted only as showpieces to demonstrate the grandeur of Kryptonopolis.
Nam-Ek shoved Lara into one of the openings. She stumbled into a transparent-walled office…no, a cell. She whirled, still shouting bitterly to Aethyr. She couldn’t stop the words pouring out of her. “If you bring me filmpaper, I can keep writing. The General asked me to finish the chronicle right away. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him!”
“Sarcasm will not help your case, Lara.”
She tossed her amber hair. “Did I have a case? Does that mean there will be a fair trial? An objective court? I look forward to speaking in my own defense.”
Aethyr added a growth crystal to the wall and applied a small power source. “Zod isn’t going to make a spectacle