The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [84]
Zod had already told a somewhat altered version of what he’d witnessed, and rumors continued to embellish the horrors of that night. He had changed the android’s name to something more sinister than “Brain Interactive Construct.” Brainiac. He had painted the android’s story in the worst possible light, removing any hint of sympathy, making the green-skinned android the embodiment of everything unspeakable and frightening. He had not mentioned the possibility that the miniaturized inhabitants might actually still be alive.
“What if Brainiac returns for Borga City next?” Zod swept his gaze around, listening to the cries of dismay. “Or Orvai? Or Corril? Argo City is already reeling from the damage done by the tidal wave—how could they possibly defend themselves? How could any of us?” Zod had no intention of calming the already terrified people. Fear was a very efficient tool. “How many outside enemies are even now plotting against Krypton?”
His face was grim, yet full of an angry confidence. “Outsiders may believe that we are an easy target, that we have forgotten how to defend ourselves and how to fight—but they are sorely mistaken! We can do this if you will follow me.” He was not at all surprised when the crowd gave a rousing cheer. What else would they do?
After his speech, Zod returned to his command tent during the heat of the afternoon. A dark-haired woman sauntered up to him, put one hand on her hip, and raised her pointed chin. “Those were fine words, Commissioner. Maybe you are better than the other nobles and the silly Council members after all.”
He was both surprised and pleased to see her. “Aethyr, you are safe!”
“That’s one advantage to living in isolation and touring ancient ruins.”
He let out a dry laugh. She had struck him as a definite survivor.
“Yes, you did unfairly dismiss me as a representative of the establishment you despised.”
“I may have been too quick to make that assumption. I hated the old government for being ineffectual. To me, anyone who worked in that system had a vested interest in the status quo.”
“Then you misjudged me.”
“I can see that now.”
He tried to gesture her inside his tent, but she remained where she was. He said, “If you have come to accept my offer of a special dinner, your timing is awkward. We may have to settle for food in the mess hall.” Zod still found her beautiful, her haughty attitude intriguing. Remembering how fearlessly she had scorned the stuffy expectations of Kryptonian society, he knew Aethyr was exactly the sort of person he needed at his side now.
She turned slowly, looking at the camp, at the organized people already getting back to work, making progress. “You have accomplished quite a lot in only a few days and under the most extreme circumstances, Commissioner. The old Council would have taken this long just to decide which robes to wear while inspecting the disaster. Has any other city leader done more than wail and gnash his teeth?”
Zod considered, trying to hide his smile. “I doubt it.”
“You’ll disappoint me greatly if the old style of government crystallizes around you again.” Her voice had a warning tone.
He wondered what she was getting at, found himself reluctant to play her game. “Who says I will allow such a thing to happen? The Council is gone.”
She laughed now and gently touched his arm. “I was hoping you would say that. In fact, I can help you.” Leaning close, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have an offer you can’t afford to decline.”
“Intriguing. What do you suggest?”
“I’ve come from the ruins of Xan City. I have walked through the ancient capital of the warlord Jax-Ur.”
“And how could some old ruins possibly interest me? Especially now?”
“Because I’ve found Jax-Ur’s hidden stockpile of doomsday weapons. His nova javelins.”
Zod sucked in a breath.
“Fifteen of them. All are still functional, as far as I could tell.” Now she took him by the arm and led