Part 8 (1/2)
Lara, though, intended to stay until she was done. She implied that Jor-El had given her permission to do so, and she was sure he wouldn't mind. She also took time to write down her thoughts and impressions of him, doc.u.menting what the two of them had done in Kandor, describing the events leading up to the arrival of the alien s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. Maybe someday she would write Jor-El's biography.
At the moment, though, art was her outlet. She painted the obelisk's background with sweeping colors to imply radical ideas, paradigm s.h.i.+fts, and the wellspring of scientific imagination. This stone would convey a rare and vital aspect of Kryptonian society, a quality that too few people still showed: Genius. Genius. And who better to symbolize that concept than Jor-El himself? And who better to symbolize that concept than Jor-El himself?
She applied another brushstroke and stepped back. She had outdone herself. The heart of the image was just the face of Jor-El-the real Jor-El.
Before he joined the others leaving the work site, her father came up behind her and watched her paint. ”Haven't lost interest yet? You're putting far more pa.s.sion into that one painting than I've ever seen you apply to any other project.”
She blushed at his knowing smile. ”It's an important project to me.”
”I can see that you've paid a great deal of attention to Jor-El himself.” Lor-Van nodded toward the painting.
”I wanted to get the likeness right.” She tried to keep a defensive tone out of her voice. ”Not enough people bother to look at Jor-El. They consider him either a crackpot or a slightly sad figure.”
”I can see that in your painting. And yes, your mother and I can also see that you're attracted to him.”
Lara didn't deny it. ”I think he's growing fond of me as well.”
”How could he not?” Lor-Van said with a chuckle. ”Just look at you.”
”Yes, he has looked at me-and talked to me, and listened to me. It's probably a new experience for him.” She hesitated, serious now. ”Are my excuses to stay here that transparent?”
”Oh, they're reasonable enough for now. The key will come if Jor-El wants you to stay even after you run out of excuses.”
”He just might.” Smiling, Lara flipped her hair away from her face and turned back to her painting. ”I intend to give him some very good reasons.”
After saying their goodbyes, her parents and the remainder of their entourage departed for the studio in Kandor. When Lara looked again at the obelisk, she nodded to herself. Others viewed the great scientist as merely the sum of his achievements, but Lara's painting showed Jor-El's inner strength and genius, revealing that it was he he who had created those achievements, not the achievements that created the man. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when who had created those achievements, not the achievements that created the man. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he he saw what she had done. saw what she had done.
CHAPTER 20.
Once his brother had listened to his story and interpreted the seismic data, Zor-El fully believed in the impending disaster and knew that something had to be done. Jor-El had not even seen the actual readings, but the brewing disaster in the planet's core was severe enough to be obvious to him. to his story and interpreted the seismic data, Zor-El fully believed in the impending disaster and knew that something had to be done. Jor-El had not even seen the actual readings, but the brewing disaster in the planet's core was severe enough to be obvious to him.
And regardless of the data itself, Zor-El had actually been there. been there. He had witnessed the planet's restless heart in a more visceral way than his brother could ever believe. Zor-El had watched the eruptions, seen the chilling emerald-green mineral s.h.i.+ft, and he He had witnessed the planet's restless heart in a more visceral way than his brother could ever believe. Zor-El had watched the eruptions, seen the chilling emerald-green mineral s.h.i.+ft, and he knew knew that something wasn't right. that something wasn't right.
Similarly, having faced the eleven-member Kryptonian Council in Kandor, he was able to instinctively interpret their political mood. His brother was a genius in all matters related to science, but Zor-El understood the lumbering machinery of bureaucracy and governments. He grasped the herdlike lethargy of an entrenched decision-making body.
Zor-El headed back to Argo City, deep in thought. He could not let the whole planet die because of the shortsighted members of the government. If they wanted data, he would give them data, but after seeing the Council in session, he doubted even the data would be enough.
However, there were other ways to influence the momentum of a large government. It seemed petty, but momentum could be diverted by pressure from other sources. If he could secure other allies, influence independent cities to join him, then Kandor's government would take the path of least resistance and flow with the main current.
Jor-El would never think of such tactics. He would present the data and let the numbers speak for themselves, even if the Council was deaf to that kind of language.
Zor-El stopped briefly in Borga City on his way home, hoping to rally support, technical a.s.sistance, and funding from Shor-Em, the city leader there. Shor-Em was something of a stuffed s.h.i.+rt who pretended to pride himself on his forward thinking and public works. He made no secret of the fact that he expected to be appointed to a position on the Council as soon as another seat came open; the man had said more than once that he simply couldn't understand why the great Jor-El would ever have declined ”such an honor.”
Zor-El considered the man a colleague rather than a friend, someone with similar interests and civic problems. Though Argo City had the means to continue the seismic investigations alone, Zor-El firmly believed that other city leaders should partic.i.p.ate. He had to gather a political rationale as well as a scientific one.
Borga City was located on the other side of the Redcliff Mountains, where several drainages created an expansive marsh carpeted with spiky gra.s.ses taller than a man. Rivulets of brown and green water tangled like the threads of a crumpled tapestry interweaving the marsh.
The city itself was suspended above the swampy ground, a complex of interconnected platforms made from multicolored alloy plates and interlocked boards of treated wood. Tethered to huge pilings sunk deep into the muck, the platforms were held aloft by colorful balloons adorned with jewels. To fill their balloons, Borgans captured lighter-than-air gases that boiled up from the swamp.
In peaceful times tourists often came there to take in the marsh vapors and enjoy one of the many independently floating spas. Boatmen netted fat water beetles that were considered a culinary delicacy; others harvested reeds and gra.s.ses for the renowned fabric artists who lived on their own platforms.
Zor-El crossed the extensive marshes only to find Borga City in an uproar. Shor-Em and his ambitious (not to mention abrasive) younger brother, Koll-Em, had once again been feuding. With their parents long dead, Shor-Em had blithely a.s.sumed control of the city government as a natural consequence of his birth order. The younger brother demanded a place on the city's council and called for drastic changes, many of which were ill advised. Change for the sake of change-simply because Koll-Em disliked the old order of things-was no way to run a city, Zor-El knew. Shor-Em had ignored his brother for some time, first pa.s.sively and then more blatantly.
When Zor-El arrived, Koll-Em had just been cast out of Borga City, evicted for staging a clumsy attempt to overthrow his brother. The people were horrified by the very idea, and Koll-Em had fled in angry disgrace. Zor-El waited patiently to see Shor-Em, who sent a messenger with a curt response that he was ”preoccupied with urgent matters at the moment” and that he would ”be happy to discuss the concerns of Argo City in some months' time.”
Zor-El departed without leaving a formal response. He preferred to go back to where he could make his own decisions, where people cooperated for the good of society. Back home...
CHAPTER 21.
The arrival of the alien visitor threw all of Kandor into turmoil. When the Kryptonian Council called an emergency session, Commissioner Zod insisted on attending. Though he was not part of their anointed group, Zod believed he was the only one who could see the opportunity, and the real danger, here. visitor threw all of Kandor into turmoil. When the Kryptonian Council called an emergency session, Commissioner Zod insisted on attending. Though he was not part of their anointed group, Zod believed he was the only one who could see the opportunity, and the real danger, here.
When the great Cor-Zod had been in charge as Council Head, he would have rallied the other ten members behind him and made a swift and reasonable decision. Now, though, Jul-Us and his lackeys would most likely run around in aimless circles like panicked gurns trying to flee a thunderstorm. Now picking up his father's mantle, Zod felt it was up to him to keep his eyes open and determine the proper response at the proper moment.
Word pa.s.sed swiftly through the city. The people, both fascinated and frightened by the diminutive blue-skinned alien, were not certain how to react. And Kryptonians did not deal well with uncertainty.
In recent days, many citizens had already been appalled by the shocking murder of the Butcher of Kandor in his own protected cell. No one particularly mourned the loss of the detestable criminal, however, and the mystery remained unsolved. Although some trace in the information systems hinted that Zod's own access crystal had been used at the time of the murder, he knew nothing about it; he also had a perfect alibi, since he had been with Aethyr-Ka at the time. Though he didn't care about the Butcher, he was intrigued by the crime itself.
Such fascinations, though, were far overshadowed by this mysterious alien. Giant crystal screens broadcast flickering news images within the facets of the tall transparent towers. Crowds gathered outside the imposing Council temple early the next morning, because the tiers of audience seats had already filled up. Bells and resonant chimes announced the impending important session.
Zod thought the eleven Council members must be wringing their hands behind closed doors, at a loss as to how they should respond. And the blue-skinned visitor hadn't even told them what he wanted. Their flurry of indecision only proved their own potential weakness. If Zod had been in charge, he would have told them to be calm, to be strong, to face the wizened alien without fear.
If he had been in charge....
Donodon waited patiently in a lower anteroom outside of the speaking arena. Alert Sapphire Guards kept watch over him, ready to prevent the visitor from taking any aggressive action, though the burly men were clearly uncertain that their weapons would be effective. The gadgets in the pockets of Donodon's comfortable baggy jumpsuit might well be weapons, but no one had the nerve to confiscate them. The alien remained quiet and content, seemingly innocuous. His beard of feelers twitched and wriggled sinuously, either tasting the air or sensing vibrations.
Inside the echoing chamber, Zod claimed an important seat reserved for prestigious observers, as was his due, and he waited. Finally, wearing white robes emblazoned with their family symbols, the eleven members filed in, attempting to look imposing from their lofty positions. When they had taken their seats, Jul-Us commanded the great doors to open into the arena below.
Pointed forward by the Sapphire Guards, the elfin alien strutted in, smiling as he crossed the floor of hexagonal tiles, which looked like a game board. But this was no game. Donodon stopped and stood looking up at the Council seats that towered high above him. He slowly blinked his enormous eyes and twitched his beard-feelers.
Without introduction, the alien spoke. ”Greetings, Council of Krypton!” The audience stopped muttering, as if hundreds of people held their breath at once. The blue-skinned alien bent backward to look at the high benches. Clearly finding the situation unsatisfactory, he brushed his hands along his lumpy pockets, searching for something. ”My apologies, but staring upward like this is not conducive to a productive conversation.”
He selected a device from one pocket, held it close to his beard-feelers as if sniffing it, then swapped it for another gadget. He paced in a small circle, looking down at the hexagonal tiles, and pointed the glowing end of the device at the floor. ”I see, yes, this will do it.”
Four Sapphire Guards approached the alien on the speaking floor, but paused, afraid he might open fire with his glowing device. High above, Jul-Us sat, his face reddening. He shouted, ”Explain yourself! We have not granted you-”
Donodon seemed oblivious to the reaction. As he used his small device, the thick tiles in the floor popped loose and bounced off to the side like discarded puzzle pieces, exposing packed sand and dirt under the foundation. Still gripping his strange tool, the alien played the beam over the ground, turning in a full circle. As if by magic, a structure began to build itself out of the loose grains. ”Do not worry,” he said offhandedly. ”I will restore everything when we are finished.”
Sand and clumps of dirt piled together, building higher, until a corks.c.r.e.w.i.n.g ramp rose up. Dizzying patterns, ornate decorations, and alien hieroglyphics adorned the sides. Pillars sprouted from around the platform's base to sh.o.r.e it up. The growing podium lifted Donodon above the speaking floor until he reached the level of the fl.u.s.tered Council, where he could face them directly. ”Much better!”
Finished with his demonstration, the alien switched off his handheld device and tucked it back into an available pocket. ”Simple electrostatic rearrangement and binding of sand grains. Nothing to fear.” He looked down at the complex structure. ”Though I admit I may have been showing off.”
”Intriguing,” Zod whispered from his reserved seat in the audience tiers. Despite the alien's una.s.suming demeanor, Donodon had just demonstrated extraordinary powers. Was there a threat implied? Zod wondered how much more the creature could do. Jor-El himself would have been impressed.