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As he issued his fateful order, General Zod experienced neither guilt nor glee. Only satisfaction and liberation.

Based on what had happened to the moon of Koron long ago, Zod had a healthy respect for Jax-Ur’s warheads. By his best guess, even one of the javelins would disintegrate the whole peninsula and vaporize part of the continent around Argo City, shield or no shield. It would leave a scar a hundred times more vast than the crater of Kandor.

Zor-El would get what he deserved.

The General envisioned what might happen as the nova javelin struck. The force-field dome would collapse, and waves of incinerating heat would reduce the population of Argo City to ash. Even if the dome somehow held, the ground all around would be flash-melted. Quakes would rip apart the surface, flatten the buildings into piles of rubble. The sea would boil, and molten lava would roar up from beneath Argo City. Zod could imagine the cacophony of terrified screams in the brief instant before they were cut off. Those deeply satisfying thoughts had finally convinced him to take this terrible action.

And so he gave the order.

In the Square of Hope, one of the circular coverplates hummed, vibrated, and split apart to reveal the weapon underground. Slowly, one of the golden warheads rose out of the pit like a rapidly growing spike-weed. Coolant steam curled around the golden shaft; the fuel tanks had been fully charged.

Zod could not tear his eyes from the beautiful weapon. “Set the coordinates for Argo City.”

“Set coordinates for Argo City!” Koll-Em snapped.

No-Ton, still down in the control room, responded that the weapon was ready. His voice held a faint quaver.

Zod spotted a shaken-looking Jor-El standing alone in the crowd, his pale hair in disarray. Good. “Prepare to launch.” His heart pounded with anticipation, and he watched with fire in his eyes and in his mind. He felt very alive.

But before the javelin could launch in a plume of exhaust and flames, the circular door of a second weapons pit split open. Another nova javelin rose slowly into the open air.

The already nervous crowd began to mutter. Aethyr looked at Zod in alarm. “You can’t launch two of them. You could crack open the whole planet.”

“I did not order this,” Zod shouted. “Abort the second launch!”

Instead of retracting, though, the second nova javelin continued to rise until the lift platform also locked into place. Then, unexpectedly, a third pit opened.

And a fourth.

Zod’s soldiers shouted in dismay. Even they could grasp the terrifying consequences of launching so many doomsday weapons. Every person on Krypton had seen the smashed moon in the night sky.

“Stop this! Abort the launch!”

Another coverplate opened, and another, until finally all fifteen nova javelins stood starkly in the open air like a hideous forest of death. The golden rockets pivoted slightly on their launch rods, acquiring their target.

This could not be happening. Zod knew only one person who could help. He bellowed into the crowd. “Jor-El, I command you to stop this!”

But the scientist simply spread his hands. “The controls were old and unreliable, the systems deteriorated. You’ve brought about your own downfall, General Zod. And now you’ve doomed the rest of us with you.”

“No!” With an ineffectual shout, Zod ran toward the access doorway that led down into the control tunnels, knocking aside the terrified people who stood in his way.

Before he could get inside, all fifteen nova javelins launched.

CHAPTER 76

Blinding shafts of yellow light and fire spat from exhaust cones. With an earsplitting rumble and a high-pitched whine, the doomsday weapons hurtled into Krypton’s sky.

“Stop!” Zod yelled at the air, as if the ancient devices might obey his order.

The trails of fire and smoke climbed upward, scribing Krypton’s epitaph upon the heavens. The General paused and stood white-faced, unable to tear his eyes away. Nam-Ek stared in fascination at the exhaust plumes and vapor trails, apparently thinking they were beautiful. Aethyr