The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [67]
After moving her camp into the city on the second day, she began her explorations in earnest, taking notes and capturing images for her own satisfaction, not for any stuffy department of historical studies back at the Academy. Most people were content to reread old records, without having any desire to touch and see and smell what Krypton had been like during its violent yet glorious days.
The ancient warlord had constructed and armored his blocky watchtowers and graceful crystal minarets to withstand any attack from outside enemies. The architecture was reinforced with heavy beams and arches. Yet even those defenses had not withstood the slow and inexorable assault of time. Crumbling roofs had slumped down; windows were shattered, leaving holes like the gaps in an old crone’s smile. Toppled, grandiose sculptures were so badly weathered that Aethyr could not tell what they had once represented.
Even so, with minimal rebuilding, she believed that Xan City could once again become a thriving population center. No one on Krypton would ever make the effort, of course; her race had lost the spark of ambition and progress. And so the dead city continued to fade into the dusts of memory.
The centerpiece of Jax-Ur’s capital was a vast plaza where smooth interlocked tiles remained set in place, impervious to weeds, weather, and even the low seismic tremblings that so often made the ground cringe. With breezes ruffling her short, dark hair, Aethyr thought she could hear the long-faded cheers—or screams—of the huge crowds that the warlord had commanded to attend him. In ancient lettering, Aethyr read the ominous name of this place: Execution Square.
In the middle of the plaza she paused to look at the remnants of an ancient statue, a towering figure carved of black stone. Its details had been scrubbed away by countless seasons and storms, but even damaged and worn the figure had an oppressive magnificence. Around the main figure, carved from softer stone, were five pale lumps showing only the faintest outlines of arms, bent legs, and bowed heads…defeated subjects kneeling before him.
She laughed aloud at the monolithic sculpture. “Behold, the great Jax-Ur, warlord of Krypton, destroyer of the moon Koron!” She bowed in a gesture of mock respect. “So this is all that remains of you, king of kings, mightiest of the mighty?”
According to Krypton’s legends, Jax-Ur had summoned the generals of all the armies he had defeated, commanding that they kneel before him. The conquered men had bent their knees here in the great square and sworn their fealty—after which Jax-Ur had executed them all anyway. “I will not tolerate defeated men as my generals,” he had said.
Back then, arrogant Jax-Ur had never dreamed his empire could fall. He had invincible armies. He had a hidden stockpile of nova javelins and had already demonstrated his willingness to use them. But even Jax-Ur failed in the end. Everything, it seemed to Aethyr, succumbed to history.
She could spend weeks here in Xan City, as long as her supplies lasted. She found a capped-over fountain, from which she managed to pump out fresh, sweet water. As she splashed her face and took a deep drink, she wondered if Jax-Ur himself had moistened his parched throat here. The very idea made the water taste more delicious.
Wandering among the ruins, poking into alcoves and collapsed structures, Aethyr found two yellowed skeletons. Would-be treasure hunters, she assumed. She had no way of telling how long they had rested here. The bones appeared to be gnawed and chipped, as if by serrated jaws. She scoffed at the remains, feeling no kinship with plunderers who would die empty-handed. Aethyr did not intend to leave Xan City without discovering something major.
During the broiling red heat of afternoon, she took shelter in the colonnaded ruins of what had once been an old temple. In the shadows she saw topaz-shelled beetles scuttling about, each the size of her hand. They lunged upon and devoured plump spiders, then disappeared back into crannies. Their clacking, chirping noises grew louder