by Greg Cox
Kicking upward, he rose past drifting stems laden with doomed fetuses and embryos. His lungs were tested once more, but this time he knew where he was going.
If he could just reach the open pool at the top of shaft...
But the robots had other ideas. Abandoning their gardening, they chased after Jor-El, converging on him from all directions. Metal pincers, designed for pruning, tugged on his legs and ankles. The layered fabric of his skinsuit shielded him from immediate injury, but the ’bots kept coming, determined to retrieve the stolen Codex.
Sharpened pincers dove at his face, but he batted the ’bot away with his free hand, while kicking and shaking more ’bots off his legs and torso. Shattered bits of metal and circuitry sank out of sight, yet the aquatic robots were not deterred. Whoever had programmed them had clearly impressed upon them the paramount importance of the Codex.
They were not going to surrender it without a fight.
Crimson sunlight, seeping down from above, called out to him. Breaking free from the clinging ’bots, he breached the surface of a pool at the top of a towering spire. H’Raka and Kelex were nowhere to be seen, which implied that this was a different shaft than the one into which he’d dived before.
Still holding on to the Codex, he started to haul himself out of the pool onto the sturdy, solid lip of the spire. He was halfway out when unseen pincers bit down on his ankle, squeezing hard enough to bruise him beneath his skinsuit, and yanked him back down into the fluid. Startled, he lost his grip on the skull, which rolled across the top of the spire toward the outer edge of the lip.
No! Jor-El thought.
Nightmarish visions—of the Codex tumbling over the edge and plunging to certain destruction—flashed through his brain, giving him the strength to shake loose the relentless ’bot and lunge from the water. He dove for the skull, his hands stretched out before him. His fingers closed on the runaway Codex only a heartbeat before it rolled over the brink.
Rao be praised!
Gasping in relief, he scrambled to feet, only to hear a metallic scraping behind him. He turned to see a pair of ’bots clambering out of the shaft after him. He backed away from the pool, toward the edge of the precipice. Glancing back over his shoulder, he spied a vertiginous drop. Again, no Kryptonian could survive such a fall— not unless he knew how to fly.
The robots, clumsy once they were out of the water, advanced toward him. Their pincers clacked viciously. Given a chance, they would surely snip his fingers off to rescue the skull from his grasp.
He couldn’t let them do that. The Codex had to survive.
And it must be kept away from Zod and his renegades, he resolved.
Suddenly a familiar buzzing reached his ears, drawing nearer by the instant. Jor-El smiled. Trusting fate, he turned and leapt from the spire.
He plummeted toward the ground below, accelerating according to a mathematical constant he had memorized as a child. For a few heart-stopping seconds he found himself wishing that Krypton’s natural gravity wasn’t quite so formidable. Terminal velocity approached at an alarming pace.
He prayed that Lara would be able to carry out their work without him.
You must save the child, Lara. No matter what!
Then H’Raka swooped in beneath him, with Kelor docked at her rear. Working together, they timed the catch perfectly so that Jor-El landed heavily in the saddle rather than crashing to his death many lengths below.
He settled into the seat, checking to make sure the Codex had not been damaged by the fall. To his relief, the sacred skull was still intact, which meant there was still hope for the future.
“Home,” he instructed H’Raka.
C H A P T E R T H R E E
The war-kite soared upward, leaving the Genesis Chambers and mechanical sentries behind. It seemed as if the worst was over, but then a burst of plasma shot past them.
Pivoting in his seat, Jor-El saw that the ongoing battle had spread, and was moving toward them. Deadly sprays of energy streaked the sky as the Sword of Rao fought the Sapphire Guard for control of Kandor.
Fearing that they were about to become collateral damage, Jor-El urged H’Raka to greater speed and the war-kite responded by executing an evasive course that tested any enemy’s ability to pin her in their sights. Jor-El bent low, cradling the Codex, as they sped toward the Citadel.
Almost there, Jor-El thought. Only a little farther...
But the agile war-kite could not dodge every blast. A stray shot shredded her left hindwing, sending her spinning out of control. H’Raka yelped in pain, but managed to level out and pick up speed. With only three wings remaining, she glided away from the besieged city. Jor-El felt her valiant heart pounding beneath him. Her breathing was ragged.
“Sir,” Kelex reported. “Your mount is exhibiting signs of grave distress.” The robot could access H’Raka’s vitals from the docking port.
Jor-El was deeply moved by the animal’s bravery and endurance. He leaned to stroke her muzzle. His throat tightened.
“Easy, girl,” he said. “We’re almost home.”
They flew above the bioengineered nature preserve on the outskirts of the estate. The House of El had long employed the wilderness as a buffer zone between the Citadel and the city, granting Jor-El and his illustrious forebears a welcome degree of privacy.
Herds of horned Rondor beasts grazed in the grasslands, lowing at the wounded war-kite as it passed above them. Carnivorous blood morels sprouted amidst the foliage. Spiked morningstar seeds floated on air currents, tempting unwitting predators.
Fiery Rao, still sinking in the east, bestowed its scarlet radiance upon the savage veldt. Brilliant ribbons of crimson and carmine retreated toward the horizon, creating a breathtaking view.
How many sunsets does Krypton have left?
At last the Citadel came into view. Rooted organically to the austere black cliffs overlooking the veldt, the great domed edifice had been Jor-El’s home since the morning he was first harvested. He still remembered the glorious day he had brought Lara home to live with him, after an arranged marriage that eventually yielded a long and loving union.
They had been truly blessed in their time together. If that happiness was now drawing to a close, he still considered himself a fortunate man.
H’Raka dipped sharply, then recovered. Pained whimpers escaped her jaws. The injured war-kite was also clearly at the end of her days, but found strength enough to stay on course. An outdoor terrace, at the entrance to the landing bay, served as their final destination. Her wings vibrated one last time, bringing them over the terrace, before gliding in for a crash landing.
She slammed into the hard, unyielding floor of the terrace and skidded to a stop only a few lengths away from the high arched entranceway. A low moan testified to her ordeal.
The rough landing jarred Jor-El, but failed to break any bones. He sprang from the saddle, holding onto the Codex, while Kelex detached himself from the docking cradle. Desperate as he was to rejoin his family, Jor-El paused to comfort the dying beast who had given her all for Krypton’s future. He gently scratched her muzzle, just where she liked it.
“Rest now,” he whispered.
H’Raka’s large round eyes rolled upward until only the whites were visible. Her labored breathing stilled. The three remaining wings collapsed against her lifeless body. The pulsing lights on her cybernetic implants flickered and died.
Bruised and bloodied from his struggles with the robots, Jor-El turned away from the carcass and dashed inside. Kelex jetted after him.
“Lara!”
He ran straight to the observatory, where he found all in readiness. The starcraft, equipped with a state-of-the-art phantom drive unit, was suspended over an empty cradle module. The craft resembled the calcified heart of a giant, its inner chamber protected by dense bio-engineered plating. The rounded contours of its outer carapace had been crafted to withstand the rigors of deep space, shielding its passenger from everything from solar flares to asteroid strikes
.
Biomechanical hardware surrounded the craft. He placed the Codex in a stasis beam above the cradle.
An archway on the opposite side of the domed chamber led to the medical suite, where he spied Lara nursing Kal-El, with Kelor hovering attentively nearby. The newborn nestled contentedly in his mother’s arms. Lara looked up as her husband approached. Her face brightened.
“Jor-El!” she said. “I was so worried—”
He wished he brought happier tidings, but there was no time to soften the news. She needed to know the truth.
“Zod’s forces are on their way,” he said. “Did you find the world?”
“We did, sir,” Kelor reported. “Orbiting a main sequence yellow star, just as you said it would.”
The display screen on her chest presented an image of a distant solar system, dominated by a vibrant yellow star. Only one-fifth the size of Krypton’s swollen red giant, the golden sun still had billions of cycles ahead of it before exhausting the hydrogen at its core—as Rao had already done—and entering its dotage.
It burned hotter than Krypton’s sun, and would for eons to come.
“A young star,” he declared. “His cells will drink in its radiation.”
The display zeroed in on the third planet in the system, which appeared to be in the grip of an ice age. Vast glaciers covered the surface. Hairless bipedal primates, garbed in furs, struggled to survive amidst the icy wilderness. Jor-El instinctively admired their determination, vigor, and ingenuity. They spread out across the planet, thriving despite the harsh, primitive conditions.
“There’s an intelligent population there,” he pointed out. “They’re primitive, but... they look like us, Lara.”
She eyed the images uncertainly, clutching Kal-El to her breast. He could tell she was having second thoughts.
“What if the natives won’t accept him?” she asked. “He’ll be an outcast, a freak. They’ll kill him.”
“How?” Jor-El asked, trying to reassure her. “He’ll be like a god to them.”
Her eyes said that she still wasn’t sure.
“What if the ship doesn’t make it?” Shaking her head, she gazed down at the newborn in her arms. “I can’t do it. I thought I could, but now that’s he’s here—”
Jor-El shared her feelings. The very sight of their child stirred him even more powerfully than he had expected. He couldn’t blame Lara for wanting to hold onto her baby—their baby. He too felt an almost overpowering desire to shelter the boy, and watch him grow to manhood. But fate had determined otherwise.
“Lara, we’ve been through this,” he said gently. “Krypton is doomed. It’s his only chance now. Our people’s only chance.”
A strident alarm blared throughout the Citadel, interrupting the poignant moment. Jor-El looked up in dismay
“Kelex!” he called. “What is it?”
The robot manservant had followed Jor-El into the observatory. He accessed the Citadel’s perimeter sensors. A holographic display, projected from the ’bot’s chest, showed five blinking triangles converging on a symbolic representation of their home.
“Five attack ships converging from the east,” Kelex confirmed. “Citadel defenses are being scanned and evaluated—”
Jor-El’s heart sank.
“Gods, we’re out of time.” He looked urgently at Lara. “Get him ready. I’ll transfer the Codex. ”
He stepped forward to take Kal-El, but Lara refused to let him go. She hugged the baby close.
“Wait! Wait!” she protested. “Just a moment more!”
He wished desperately he could grant her this, but they had to complete the preparations while there was still time. Events were progressing far too swiftly.
“We have to say good-bye, Lara!” he replied firmly
“No! Let me look at him!” A primal maternal instinct warred with the cruel reality of their situation as she caressed Kal-El’s cherubic face. Her eyes glistened. Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “We’ll never get to see him walk. Never hear him say our names—”
Her naked anguish broke his heart.
“I know. I know, my love. But somewhere out there, amongst the stars... he will live.”
With that he gently pried Kal-El from her grip. An agonizing sob escaped her as she surrendered to necessity. Jor-El handed his son over to Kelex, who placed the baby in the womb-like cradle beneath the starcraft. Kal-El cooed happily, trusting that all was well. Jor-El was grateful for the infant’s good nature. Tears and tantrums would only make their separation all the harder.
As Kelex tucked his charge securely into place, Jor-El climbed into a looming nano-surgery robot waiting silently in the wings. The sophisticated exoskeleton closed around him. A multi-spectrum visor clicked into place before his eyes. Encased in the robot, he approached the cradle and gazed down at his son. The visor allowed him to see through Kal-El’s epidermis to gaze directly on the baby’s tiny heart.
The sight of his son’s essence, pulsing before his eyes, left Jor-El awash in emotion. That was his own Kryptonian flesh and blood, throbbing with new life.
He nodded at Kelex, who prepared the skull for the procedure.
“Uploading the Codex, sir.”
A holographic readout confirmed the data link. Jor-El activated the carrier beam and a shimmering blue ray passed through the Codex on its way to Kal-El’s heart. The process disintegrated the Codex, breaking it down into digitized information which was then transmitted directly into the baby’s bloodstream. Kal-El gazed wide-eyed at the pretty lights, unharmed by the painless procedure.
It was over in a matter of moments. No trace of the Codex remained, save for the data infused into the unknowing Kryptonian child.
Almost done, Jor-El thought. He cut off the beam and climbed out of the surgical gear. Crossing the floor of the observatory, he retrieved a customized command key from a magnetic field. The key was a short black spike small enough to be held in the palm of his hand. The crest of the House of El was inscribed on its triangular head. He plugged the key into a matching slot in the cradle, so that it would accompany Kal-El on his voyage across the cosmos.
“Sir,” Kelex said. “Hostile forces are nearly upon us—”
The perimeter alarms grew ever louder and more strident. On the robot’s dimensional display, the blinking triangles were practically on top of the Citadel.
Zod’s forces, Jor-El wondered, or the Sapphire Guard? Both factions would stop at nothing to retrieve the Codex.
“Put up the defenses!” he ordered, silently chastising himself for not doing so earlier. If he had not been so preoccupied with Lara and the imminent departure of their child...
On the display, a protective force field enveloped the Citadel. Jor-El had little expectation that the field would be able to repel the invaders for long, but he intended to make good use of the time remaining to them.
He watched intently as a biostasis gel—similar in composition to that used in the embryonic sacs back at the Genesis Chambers—filled the cradle, flooding over little Kal-El. A transparent enclosure formed over the module, sealing the baby inside an artificial womb.
He would never touch his son again.
Then the Citadel came under attack. Muted explosions shook the curved walls of the observatory. A punishing barrage tested the defenses, which appeared unequal to the task.
Small wonder, Jor-El mused. It had been generations since any household on Krypton had faced such an assault. The defenses were old and outdated, like the rest of Krypton.
Lara gasped in alarm as shock waves rattled the chamber. The surgical robot framework toppled over, smashing onto the floor. Jor-El glanced anxiously at the starcraft, suspended over the cradle module, but its supports proved sturdy enough to hold it safely in place above the womb.
Cracks spread across the vaulted ceiling, showering the observatory with sediment and debris. A buttress rib buckled alarmingly, while the floor vibrated beneath their feet. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that Krypton
was already coming apart.
“Outer defenses are falling!” Kelex said. The force field flickered erratically on his display. Jor-El knew that the enemy would soon breach the Citadel. Time was running out. All they had left was minutes.
He peered again through the transparent enclosure at his son, slumbering now within the gel-filled womb. Kal-El was blissfully oblivious to the chaos raining down upon them.
“Sleep well, my son,” Jor-El whispered. “Our hopes and dreams travel with you.”
Lara joined him in front of the module. She wrapped her arms around him.
“Finish the launch, Lara,” he instructed. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”
The Citadel shuddered beneath another assault. Jor-El doubted the force-field could withstand any more strikes. He embraced his wife, sharing one last precious kiss. Her lips forgave him for taking her baby from her.
“I love you,” she said.
“And I, you.” Together, they gazed at their only child. “He’ll make it, Lara. He’ll build a better world than ours.” Blaring sirens made it impossible to forget the danger at their door. Tearing himself away from her, he exited the observatory and sprinted through the Citadel to the armory, where his battle armor awaited. The gleaming gold shell fitted over his durable blue skinsuit. His sacred crest was emblazoned on the chest plate. A bulky plasma cannon was attached to his right arm.
Kelex prepared himself for combat, as well. The floating robot lowered himself into the docking cradle atop a large armored war-bot. Humanoid in design, the robotic chassis stood at least a head taller than Jor-El, once Kelex had settled into the larger mechanism’s neckpiece.
His mainframe now served as the war-bot’s “head.” The gilded metal chassis mimicked Kryptonian anatomy, right down to sculpted steel muscles. Servomotors whirred as Kelex tested his powerful new limbs. Plasma blasters powered up in his mechanical arms.
Fully equipped, they raced toward the Citadel’s upper entrance, where even now they could hear the enemy advancing toward the gates. Concussive blasts slammed into the landing bay doors from the outside. Solid grapheme plates began to buckle under the assault.
