The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [94]
Jor-El grabbed Lara, and they ran out into the open, away from any tall structures. As the shaking reached a crescendo, one of the anchored telescope stalks toppled and crushed a lifting machine as its operator leaped to safety.
When the tremors faded again, Lara brushed herself off, trying not to look shaken. “Do you know what that was? What caused it?”
His brother’s earlier concerns came thundering back to him. “It’s what Zor-El warned us about—science that the Council didn’t take seriously.”
CHAPTER 39
Hoping to secure his power base, Commissioner Zod had already dispatched some of his passionate followers to Orvai, Corril, Ilonia, Argo City, Borga City, and many smaller agricultural and mining villages. Speaking Zod’s praises, the messengers rallied the citizens, played upon their fears, and put him forward—humbly, of course—as the only man who could truly lead Krypton, “at least during these uncertain times.” Zod had personally faced the evil Brainiac. He had been there from the very beginning, while other city leaders had stayed home for weeks, discussing the tragedy from the sidelines.
Meanwhile, arrogant Shor-Em had unilaterally issued a call for volunteer candidates to become members of a reestablished Council that he proposed in Borga City. Though the pompous nobleman commended Zod’s continuing “temporary” efforts at the crater camp, he called the prospect of rebuilding Kandor absurd. Although the Commissioner privately agreed, he nevertheless encouraged his fanatically devoted workers to take offense at the insensitive pronouncement. By virtue of their indignation, they recruited even more followers.
Living with the painful reality of the gaping wound every day, his dedicated followers at the temporary camp couldn’t help but recognize how slow and ineffectual the other city leaders had been. Zod was clearly the only viable alternative. Everyone had to see that.
Unfortunately, the majority of Kryptonians hadn’t personally lived through the tragedy or witnessed the magnitude of the damage firsthand, and they were swayed by naïve and impractical suggestions, such as Shor-Em’s. Zod knew he had to set them straight, and soon, before these complainers stumbled upon some way to oppose him.
It was time he decided, to see for himself what Aethyr had found in the ruins of Xan City. There he would find the tools he needed to consolidate Krypton and trump the blowhard claims of any rival leaders.
Promising to return in only a day or two, Zod departed from the burgeoning refugee camp with Aethyr and Nam-Ek. As their levitating raft raced away to the south, Zod looked back at the temporary settlement, shaking his head in disappointment. “If I am to lead Krypton, my center of power must be more than a group of tents, dirt paths, and primitive sanitation facilities. No wonder people listen to Shor-Em when he offers Borga City as a viable alternative.”
Aethyr lounged back on a cushion at the side of the open-air vessel, smiling at him. “One problem at a time.”
After a journey of many hours, they arrived at the ruins of Jax-Ur’s ancient capital. Using this very place as his center of power, the warlord had conquered a world, destroyed an inhabited moon, and prepared to reach out across the nearby inhabited star systems. Only treachery had toppled him.
Zod reveled in the sensation of being surrounded by looming history. In the middle of Execution Square, he approached the weathered statue of the once-great warlord surrounded by the nearly unrecognizable figures of kneeling and defeated subjects. Propping his hands on his hips, he looked upward with a challenging smirk. “All your works have fallen into dust, Jax-Ur! Mine will be greater.”
Aethyr said, “Then take Jax-Ur’s mantle for your own, Zod. Why not follow in his footsteps? Be the savior of Krypton.”
He looked at her strangely. “Jax-Ur is one of the most reviled men in our history.”
She pointed out the obvious. “Only because history was written by