The Last Days of Krypton - Kevin J. Anderson [98]
Some of them were bleeding hearts who wrung their hands in misery at the loss of the Council and dreamed only of restoring Krypton to what it had once been. Zod had no interest in people like that. Aethyr, fortunately, pointed out others who were much more likely to serve him.
“For someone who doesn’t bother with internal politics and household rivalries,” Zod observed with an amused smile, “you certainly know a lot about the noble family members.”
“I know a great deal about anyone who thinks along similar lines as I do. Koll-Em even tried to overthrow his brother not long ago—a botched attempt, but it shows how he thinks. He was banished from Borga City, and now he’s here. Many more of the younger sons and daughters played their roles as dutiful children, but it was all an act. You’d be astonished at the depths of hatred some of them have toward their elder, privileged siblings. And we can turn that to our advantage. We have to. You and I won’t succeed without their strength and support.”
Zod sent out a discreet invitation to seventeen of the most ambitious younger sons, as chosen by Aethyr. Putting the pieces in place. He met his special guests at the broken rim of the crater at dawn. The edge dropped off into a debris slope before plunging steeply into emptiness and the smoky unseen bottom of the pit. Nam-Ek stood behind the group, an intimidating presence.
Seventeen candidates: some eager, others skeptical, all curious. Zod observed them. Sharp-featured Koll-Em. No-Ton, a noble son who had studied science and engineering (not remotely comparable to Jor-El, but useful nonetheless). Vor-On, the eager sycophant who had tried to curry the Commissioner’s favor at the chariot races. Mon-Ra, Da-Es, Ran-Ar, and others whose names he did not know yet. And of course, Aethyr.
These were talented men willing to break rules, those who had either bypassed family expectations and made something of themselves or chafed at restrictions and had every reason to despise the placid order of old Krypton. They had spent their lives being told what they couldn’t do.
Many of them were barely out of their teens, with fire in their blood. What they lacked in experience and reasonable caution they made up for with radical enthusiasm. They were young enough to be naïve, convinced of their own righteousness, never imagining that their closely held beliefs might be wrong. They were perfect for what Zod had in mind.
At a glance, he could see that some were doubtful that Commissioner Zod would be any different from previous government officials—skeptical, just as Aethyr had originally been. He simply smiled at them. “The old Council is gone, and so is our old way of life. Not one of you will mourn that. Do not pretend otherwise.” He could tell by their shocked expressions that he had grabbed their attention. “In order to achieve my goals, I need a cadre of close advisers to stand with me as I do what must be done, for Krypton’s sake. Will you listen to what I have to say?”
The younger nobles glanced at one another, some muttering questions while others remained silent. Koll-Em said brashly, “It does no harm for us to hear you out.”
“No one’s ever taken us seriously before,” Mon-Ra added. He had a well-muscled body, created by physical sculpting rather than hard labor.
“Come, let us descend a ways into the crater.” Zod gestured to the sharp drop-off and the uneven switchbacked path Aethyr had marked out.
She stepped up to the lip. “The Commissioner needs you to touch what actually happened here. Feel it viscerally, grasp the power of one evil alien who uprooted a city and left a hole halfway through the crust. Make yourselves different from those who issue pronouncements while they sit in comfort halfway across the continent.