Part 33 (1/2)

The rapidly a.s.sembled s.h.i.+p would not function. The engine readings flickered, powered up, but failed to reach sufficient levels. The navigation computers refused to recognize the new framework he had built. Everything automatically shut down.

The s.h.i.+p would not function.

Sweating, fighting down panic, Jor-El double-checked all of the systems, reconnected each component. But still nothing. He had made no errors that he could find.

Donodon's s.h.i.+p was a marvel that even the alien explorer had not entirely understood. All of the components fit together in a pseudo-organic way, and Jor-El realized with a sinking heart that some part of the old vessel must have been a vital link in the chain. The exotic engines could not simply be pulled out and plugged into something larger.

It was a disaster. The expanded s.h.i.+p would never fly.

He slumped back, nearly knocking over one of his tables. Lara didn't have to ask him what had happened. She saw and understood. ”You tried, Jor-El. We all tried.”

”It isn't enough! There has to be some other way.” He wrestled with dismay and hopelessness for the better part of an hour, when he did not have an hour to spare. Finally he came to a cold but necessary conclusion. He looked at his wife. ”We'll take it apart-put the components back into a s.h.i.+p as close to the original size and shape that I can manage. They'll still function the way they were initially built. They have to.”

”But the s.h.i.+p will be too small, Jor-El. It can't save all of us.”

He drew a deep breath. ”No. But at the very least it can save Kal-El.”

CHAPTER 87.

The red sun of Rao dawned on the last day of Krypton. dawned on the last day of Krypton.

The ground began to shake. All through the previous night, Jor-El hadn't been able to drive the vivid pictures from his mind, knowing what was happening at the core of the planet. For days, the Phantom Zone had swallowed more and more incandescent lava, and by now the singularity must be dangerously close to its critical point.

Jor-El did not give up. Even though he knew the energy drain on the cobbled-together components was too great to accommodate two adults and one child, he refused to accept that he couldn't make it function. He needed needed to save Lara and the baby; he simply couldn't imagine-or allow-any other outcome. to save Lara and the baby; he simply couldn't imagine-or allow-any other outcome.

Working feverishly, he stripped out some of the systems, reduced the ma.s.s of the vessel's framework, and recalibrated the life-support controls to work with two pa.s.sengers. He and Donodon had crowded together in the original tiny vessel...but that had been only for a short flight from Kandor to his estate.

He was willing to sacrifice himself in order to save his wife and child. But he must must save them. save them.

Again, though, he could not succeed. While Lara watched, her face pale and drawn, he made a second attempt to power up the internal systems of the modified s.h.i.+p. She bit her lip, rocking the baby in her arms, and she realized what he was doing. ”You're going to stay behind, aren't you? But you want me to go with Kal-El.”

”You have to.” His tone had a ragged edge of raw desperation, and it allowed for no argument.

Even so, the built-in generator systems could not power up to the bare minimum requirements. A tear slid down his cheek from reddened eyes as he just stared at the vessel, feeling as if it had betrayed him.

”I can't do it. The only possible craft will be barely large enough to accommodate a baby. I can send Kal-El away from Krypton and pray the life support keeps him alive.” The very idea sounded hopeless.

”But we can't send our baby out alone,” Lara said. Her voice was almost a moan. ”He'll be helpless and lost.”

”That is why I so desperately needed you to go along. I failed.” His whole body shuddered with the enormity of what he faced, what they both both faced as parents. ”But would you rather we didn't try? Would you rather we kept him with us so that we die together along with all of Krypton?” faced as parents. ”But would you rather we didn't try? Would you rather we kept him with us so that we die together along with all of Krypton?”

She shook her head. Her eyes sparkled with tears, but both she and Jor-El knew the answer. ”No, he is our son. If there is even one chance in a million that he can survive, then we have to take it.”

”I was sure you would say that.” He had faith in what Donodon's technology could do, and he clung to the slenderest hope that Kal-El would find a way to survive, a new place to call home, a people to accept him. ”We will do what we have to.”

Working swiftly together, he and Lara guided the new, much smaller stars.h.i.+p out of the tower lab and onto the lush purple lawn. Constructed of a st.u.r.dy framework inlaid with the toughest Kryptonian structural crystals, many of which he grew using his father's best techniques, the s.h.i.+p looked quite different from Donodon's. During the urgent restructuring, Jor-El had made last-minute improvements to accommodate all of the memory crystals, all of the items Kal-El would need, wherever he went. The craft was as much Jor-El's design as the alien's, and the single life-form-the baby-finally did not cause the safety shutdowns to engage. To his great relief, he saw that at last the power levels were stable. The engines functioned.

There was a chance.

Jor-El and Lara had spent precious moments on an important task, each recording their heartfelt wishes and advice into a special crystal, dictating letters that their son would hear one day. As he grew older, Kal-El would have only these few hints of who his real parents had been. It had to be memorable.

With so much to say, Lara found herself at a loss for words when she recorded her message. Jor-El had struggled as well, reminded of how he had lost his own father to the Forgetting Disease and how Yar-El had found the strength and focus one last time to record a poignant message sealed into the wall of his mysterious tower. How could Jor-El do any less for his own baby?

Standing out in the open beside the small s.h.i.+p, Lara gazed around the beautiful estate, choked with emotion. ”This is where we first met. This is where so much has happened.”

”And now here is where everything is coming full circle,” Jor-El said.

The ground shuddered beneath them, a wrenching, disorienting twist that made the couple stumble. He and Lara caught each other, kept each other from falling. Jor-El knew it would only get worse-and swiftly. Soon they would have no choice but to send the infant away forever.

After he had completed his frantic work on the new s.p.a.cecraft, Jor-El then spent another hour poring over his calculations until his head pounded and his eyes ached. He had to be absolutely convinced he wasn't wrong, that there was no flaw in his reasoning. If he sent his innocent, helpless baby off into the unknown, and Krypton did not not explode, then he would never forgive himself for what he had done. Kal-El would be lost to them forever. explode, then he would never forgive himself for what he had done. Kal-El would be lost to them forever.

Lara loaded the last few memory crystals into the strange hybrid s.h.i.+p, remaining brave. ”Where will we send Kal-El?”

He gave her a rare smile. ”I think I found the perfect place.”

She suddenly remembered. ”Earth? That beautiful world near Mars. In Donodon's recorded images, those people looked very much like Kryptonians.”

”We can't tell exactly how different Kal-El will be from them. Simply growing up under a yellow sun may impose unpredictable physiological changes. Who can say? But on Earth, maybe our son won't be alone. Maybe those people will accept him.”

She forced strength in her voice. ”At least it's a chance.”

When the crystal-inlaid s.h.i.+p was prepared, they had only to pack up the baby, say their farewells, and make sure that Kal-El got safely away before it was too late.

The ground shuddered more violently than before, and Lara fell to her knees on the gra.s.s. The surface heaved as if some monstrous subterranean thing were squirming, breaking free. The baby began to cry. These tremors were just the precursors. All of Krypton's continents were buckling, twisting as the world's interior spasmed.

Fro-Da came running out of the large manor house still wearing his ap.r.o.n; flour and cooking oil had spilled down his chest. The chef blinked as a jagged black crack snaked its way up one thick wall. Then, for reasons he must have considered urgent, he rushed back into the building. Jor-El shouted a warning, but his voice remained unheard as the load-bearing pillars buckled. The entire wing of the house fell in upon itself, burying Fro-Da with his kitchens.

In the Redcliff Mountains by the now-abandoned Rao-beam outpost, the cliffsides cracked, and avalanches slid down the slopes. House-sized blocks of stone broke free and tumbled into the valleys.

The sky overhead became a turmoil of spoiled-looking clouds, dust, and fire mixed with a fresh outpouring of gases from volcanic eruptions in the southern continent. Monster storms had begun to brew in the atmosphere, tumbling over one another as they raced across the landscape like unleashed hrakkas.

The whole engine of the planet's core shut down.

On the nearby plains, the telescopes and observation arrays shuddered and groaned. Girders and support stalks snapped, and the broad dishes slowly collapsed to the ground, breaking apart and crumbling under their own weight. In control rooms, all the images crackled into static and went off-line.