The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [73]
The small ceremony would take place at the dacha in the forested foothills, with only a few attendees. Jor-El’s mother would host the event, whether or not Yar-El was aware of what was happening around him.
On the morning of the wedding Jor-El sent a priority message to Argo City, briefly pulling his brother away from the salvage efforts. “You know, it’s my wedding day, but it seems that nothing is the way I would have planned it.”
Zor-El looked haggard, though still fiery-eyed, on the communication plate. His manner was gruff from making snap decisions every hour for the past several days; he looked as if he had not slept in a very long time. “It’s not the wedding that counts, Jor-El, but the marriage. Are you satisfied with what you’re doing?”
“Lara is the right woman for me, of that I’m completely certain.”
“Then I am happy for you. I wish I could be there to stand beside you.” He spread his hands helplessly. “The power is still not restored in all areas. Much of the water supply is contaminated. We haven’t even tallied the dead—”
“I understand, Zor-El. So many tragedies all at once. Do what you have to. We will get through this.”
When they departed for the dacha, Jor-El stroked Lara’s hair tenderly. “If I ever get my life back again after this trial, I promise we’ll have a reaffirmation ceremony. We will do it right.”
She clasped his hand. “This is all we need, Jor-El. I don’t need choirs and mirror-kites. I don’t need pavilions decked with banners, banquets of fantastic delicacies or a guest list that includes all the prominent personages of Kandor.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “All we need is each other. That’s enough.”
Charys greeted them on the wooden porch, beaming with an excitement and satisfaction that Jor-El hadn’t seen on his mother’s face in years. She had strewn the small house with flowers picked from her gardens, and each breath was heady with sweet perfume.
Yar-El sat in his chair, a blanket on his lap. His wife had combed his hair and dressed him in a fine formal robe, and she herself had donned an ornate gown. The old man wore a distant smile, as if he had at least a nebulous grasp of what was happening. Jor-El rested a hand on his father’s bony shoulder; he seemed to have much to say to Yar-El, but was unable to say it.
Zod wore his Commissioner’s outfit, adorned with a prominent gold sash. Burly Nam-Ek stood outside the door of the dacha, as if guarding the wedding against outside attack. Lara chose her best dress from among the possessions she had brought with her to Jor-El’s estate. She didn’t know why she had ever packed a clinging lavender gown of the softest ruffled fabric, but now it became a perfect wedding dress.
Lara’s mother and father, having postponed their work on the crystal silk tapestries, arrived at the last moment, though they had hoped to decorate the dacha for the wedding. Her little brother looked as if he had dressed hurriedly for the event. All three were very impressed to meet Commissioner Zod in person. They had brought three looping glass sculptures (handmade) and a bell-mouthed vase for display during the ceremony.
Lara’s parents graciously greeted Jor-El’s mother, and Lor-Van talked pleasantly to Yar-El. “I don’t know if you can hear or understand me, sir, but I must express my admiration for your work. I am an artist, a fairly well-respected one, but you were both a scientist and an artist. The things you created were so very influential….”
The old man gave no sign that he knew Lor-Van was speaking to him.
Ora took her husband’s arm. “The ceremony is about to start.” A fidgeting Ki sat next to his parents, flashing a wide grin every time Lara glanced his direction. She stood beside Jor-El in front of the broad windows that let in streams of sunshine. Lara grasped his hand as if she never intended to let go.
Commissioner Zod chose an abbreviated ceremony, getting right down to