The Last Days of Krypton by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

Think of all that he’s accomplished.” Even years ago, Lara had been fascinated by the great scientist.
    “The exception proves the rule, dear Lara,” Aethyr said with a superior expression. “You can think of only one man who embodies Kryptonian ideals anymore. Our noble families have become decadent and lazy.”
    “I’m not,” Lara had said.
    Aethyr chuckled. “Neither am I. Perhaps the two of us will set a new standard for our generation.”
    Now, sitting alone and staring at the blank twelfth obelisk, Lara thought again about that journey to the Valley of Elders. She still had her detailed record of the trip, what they had seen, descriptions of how it felt to be surrounded by the immensity of true history. Jor-El’s ancient ancestor had been revered, but Sor-El was long in the past; modern-day Kryptonians were far more interested in gossiping about how his father had lost his mind to the Forgetting Disease and fallen from grace. It was terribly unfair. Lara hoped that, in some small measure, her work would begin to turn opinion around for old Yar-El.
    Her mother startled her, coming up close behind. “You’re daydreaming.”
    “An artist doesn’t daydream. An artist simply waits to be inspired.”
    “And you find inspiration in daydreams about Jor-El?”
    Lara flushed. “Please don’t distract me. This is important work.”
    “Of course it is.” Lara didn’t acknowledge her mother’s amusement, nor did she admit how long she had been thinking about Jor-El.

CHAPTER 13
    From atop the Council temple the holographic image of Rao blazed through the darkness. Zod could see it from the balcony of his private penthouse, and he stared at the hovering solar image until his eyes hurt. As the city lights began to sparkle, he scanned the other magnificent buildings on the skyline, all of them brightly illuminated. The people of Kandor liked to laugh at the darkness, and Zod often laughed at them.
    Outwardly, he waited with calm patience, but inside he felt great anticipation. He wondered if Aethyr-Ka would arrive early to show her eagerness to meet him…or late, to toy with his emotions…or if she would show up at all. He had no guarantees, and that was what made it so intriguing. He sensed a kindred spirit in this brash, independent woman.
    After she had caught his attention at the chariot races, Zod had immediately sent a few spies to make quiet inquiries about her while he dealt with the bothersome fallout of Bur-Al’s death. He easily learned that most of Vor-On’s dismissive comments and assessments reflected the general opinion. Aethyr enjoyed breaking the rules, and she relished provoking strong reactions, much to her family’s dismay. She didn’t live her life in the same tedious, washed-out manner that most Kryptonians did.
    Deciding that he wanted to meet her as soon as possible, Zod had recorded a message crystal. With his most sincere and meaningful smile (he had been practicing that), he requested that she join him for a fine private dinner. At first, to impress her, he had listed his formal credentials; then, not wanting to sound pompous, he deleted them all. Aethyr would scoff at such pretension.
    But Zod’s assistants had a difficult time actually tracking her down. Aethyr had no stable address. Her family did not know (and claimed no interest in) her whereabouts. One of his spies finally found her poring over crumbling maps in an archives center and museum.
    When they delivered the Commissioner’s message to her, Aethyr had held the rose-colored crystal in the palm of her hand, warming it with her personal heat. The image of Zod’s face wafted upward and congealed so that he seemed to be speaking directly to her. She listened to his invitation, then flustered Zod’s men by declining to give an answer. Any answer at all. She simply went back to her maps, digging out records of ancient historical sites….
    Now, as he waited on the balcony on the evening after his meeting with Jor-El, Zod