The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [86]
Jor-El summoned all the inner strength he had intended to use when facing the Council. Now even that ordeal seemed trivial. “I will assist in every way I can, but first I need to understand what happened here.”
“It was an alien attack, just as we feared. Just as I warned about, if only the Council had listened.”
Jor-El felt cold and sick. “Was it Donodon’s people, after all?” He couldn’t believe it.
“No, the evil android that did this to Kandor had nothing to do with Donodon.”
Jor-El saw some of the wan refugees staring at him. “People will still think I’m responsible, after all the accusations. Will they want my help if they think I brought this down upon us?”
Zod scowled impatiently. “Then such nonsense must be silenced. I will see to it. We cannot waste time on casting blame and pandering to politics now.” He grabbed the scientist by both shoulders and faced him. “We have to defend ourselves, prepare for another attack, and how can we do that without you? We need your genius, Jor-El. We need things that Krypton has never before imagined—and we need them now.”
Without giving the two of them time to absorb what had occurred, the Commissioner led them along trampled dirt paths, past tents, equipment sheds, and guarded storage silos. Lara followed her husband, still in shock but obviously full of questions. Jor-El could see she was close to collapse, barely managing to walk. He desperately wanted to take her away from here.
In a crisp, businesslike voice Zod explained the immediate emergency measures he had taken and all the work that still needed to be done, and swiftly, to stabilize the situation. Zod became more animated, as if he had dispensed all the sympathy he deemed necessary for the moment.
He led them into the long temporary mess hall, where the air was redolent with the smells of soup, fresh-baked bread, and dried fruits. Dirty, tired people crowded next to one another on makeshift benches, wolfing down food with a desperation that showed their lingering fear. Every person was covered with dust and sweat. Some of them looked listless and broken, while others were argumentative, lashing out at those nearby because they could find no better target for their helpless anger.
Filled with purpose, Zod marched to the front of the food line, pulling Jor-El with him. As the Commissioner shouted for attention, the murmur of conversation in the long tent died down. The workers and refugees turned on their benches to listen.
“I have wonderful news.” Zod raised Jor-El’s arm, clasping the scientist’s hand in his own fist. “The great Jor-El has survived. Although Kandor is gone, he is still with us.”
The white-haired scientist flushed to find himself the center of public attention, especially in such tragic circumstances. Only a few days ago, the people of Krypton had been convinced that his negligence had placed their world in danger. He did not want to be applauded by them.
Zod looked intently at Jor-El while the others wearily listened. “The slate is wiped clean. Our priorities are changed, and far worse alien threats face us. Real threats. We have wasted too much time and energy on irrelevant distractions.” He smiled, looking very benevolent and paternal.
“As the provisional leader of Krypton and the de facto representative of the Kryptonian Council, I hereby pardon Jor-El of any charges pending against him. As of this moment, the matter is dismissed. There will be no inquest into the tragic death of Donodon. We cannot afford to squander our remaining resources. We need your help.”
Jor-El was shocked. “But that doesn’t resolve the issue—”
Zod cut him off. “We have been attacked. Our capital city is gone. What you can do for your people far outweighs any past mistakes. The Council was only seeking a scapegoat, after all.” He picked up a tray and personally dished up a meal for Jor-El. “All Kryptonians share a common cause now. We must make our outside enemies fear us—and you can give us the means to accomplish that.”
The conversation around