The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [90]
Six hollow-eyed boys and girls played together, throwing rocks into a deep puddle, but they seemed to take no joy in it. In the first week many survivors had drifted away from the crater to find temporary housing with distant friends or relatives. Others, without options or without the will to go anywhere, remained in the camp.
The Commissioner had waited long enough for this evening, but Aethyr treated it as no more than a casual event. She arrived wearing comfortable tan field clothes and a brown vest with pockets for tools or samples. Her billowy sleeves were smudged with dust. If she had worn a fine gown, costly jewelry, or intoxicating perfume, Zod would not have been so attracted to her.
Inside his command tent, a small table had been covered with fabric and set with a selection of savory appetizers. Warm, glowing crystals were distributed in the corners and on shelves. Aethyr lounged back in a seat across from him. “So, Commissioner, is this to be a romantic meal between the two of us? Shall I expect to be seduced, or is this a strategy session?”
Zod leaned across the table. “I’ve watched you, Aethyr. You’re like me in many ways.”
She chuckled. “What do you mean by that? And you didn’t answer my question.”
“People like us find nothing more intense than tactical and political discussions. Tonight you and I could decide the future of Krypton. Isn’t that intriguing?”
With a confident smile, she reached over to clasp his hand. “So, the answer is seduction, then.”
He called for the main course, a freshwater fish stuffed with nuts along with spiced vegetables roasted over an open fire. Jellied fruits crusted with sugar crystals and mounted on tiny skewers made a festive dessert.
Upon learning that Jor-El’s personal chef had joined the ever-growing group of volunteers, Zod had quickly taken advantage of the man’s talents. Fro-Da worked wonders producing great quantities of palatable, nutritious food for the camp’s population. Tonight, though, the chef had prepared a very special meal for Zod and his guest.
With the bounty spread in front of them, Zod sent the smiling chef away with his thanks. When he curtly told Nam-Ek to keep away any eavesdroppers, he was satisfied that the bearded mute would kill anyone who tried to defy those wishes.
Zod got down to business with Aethyr. “I secured my position by acting swiftly. The people needed a leader, and I offered myself. No one else rose to the challenge. No one else has offered an alternative. I want to keep it that way—for the good of Krypton, naturally.”
“Naturally. It must have been quite a shock for everyone to see government acting swiftly.” She smiled. “Krypton’s noble families are incapable of responding to sudden needs, but you can expect to hear complaints once they recover from their shock.” Aethyr was persistent. “This is our window of opportunity. Right now, the people in this camp are united by tragedy. They’re yours to command. They’ll do anything you ask of them.”
“But that won’t last,” Zod finished for her. “They rushed here, desperate to help, but soon they will realize that nothing can be done. There is no one here to save, no city left to rebuild. The suburbs and outlying fields and some industrial areas remain, but they are extremities without a heart or mind.”
“Then buy time before the people begin to disperse. Give them something to do. Make up a harmless project in the short term and give them guidance for the long term.”
“Intriguing.” Zod ran a finger down his short beard. “I can formalize the project of gathering names, putting together a database of everyone who needs to be remembered. That will keep them busy. In fact, I’ll even propose a massive memorial—a huge crystal wall etched with the names of everyone who vanished with Kandor. A pointless gesture, I know, but they seem to need an outlet for their sorrow.”
“They’ll