Since the beginning of time itself, a battle had raged, contained within the whirling ball of rock known as Krypton. As the planet matured, as the first life formed, the first civilizations, the ancient war had been fought within the planet’s molten core. Rock and lava pounded away at each other, never noticing the flourishing of life on the surface. Cities had been built, had formed empires and had fallen, and the battle continued. Wars had been fought between the planet’s people, of so much smaller scale than the war inside.
The people above learned the sciences, and eventually discovered the massive stores of energy contained in their core. They harnessed this power, drawing out the source of their civilization from the inner workings of the planet, putting that energy into their communications, their transportation, their creature comforts, their entertainment.
And decades later, they would pay their price.
The eons of battle were coming to an end. The fuel that had fanned the flames for so long was finally being depleted, and very soon, one warring side would defeat the other. Finally, the churning fight would end—and Krypton would as well.
***
“What do you think of Kon?”
“Kon?”
“For a boy. Kon-El.” Kal-El smiled dreamily, imagining the baby in his arms.
Lyla Lerrol tried to give her fiancé a stern look, but couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Kal, don’t you think it’s a little early to be picking out names?”
“Oh, come on.” Kal grinned and wrapped a strong arm around Lyla’s waist as they walked down the streets of Kryptonopolis. “What have you been thinking? I know you have a name for your little girl.”
“Well...I do like Lori...But you know it’s not going to be for a while. Having a baby now would destroy my career!”
“I know, I know, don’t worry, Lyla my love.” Kal gave her a squeeze and a heart-melting smile. “Whatever you want.”
The bright red sun was falling lower in the sky as the couple walked down the clean, airy street. A light wind whipped through Lyla’s blonde hair after tousling the gold leaves on a neatly-pruned row of trees. Several small vehicles zoomed over the pavement, in a much greater hurry than the people they passed. The crimson sunlight bounced off of the surface of the city’s tall buildings, staining the glass and steel with fiery color and catching the eyes of the many people walking below. The residents of Kryptonopolis walked slowly, savoring the sights on their ways home from wherever they had been; the tourists raced down the paths toward their next destination.
Kal and Lyla held hands and meandered, pausing every so often to watch a bird circling above, or to kneel and play with a fellow walker’s pet. Kal ran his fingers through Lyla’s hair and smiled at her. He loved the color of her hair in the sunlight.
It was then that a man raced by the pair, snatching Lyla’s purse out of her hand and skidding around the corner with it.
“Hey!” yelled Lyla, almost taking off after him herself, but Kal’s muscled arm blocked her way. She looked up at him to see an expression in the baby-blue eyes that the entire city had come to respect; good citizens in awe, criminals in fear.
Like a bullet out of a gun, Kal-El shot off down the street, kicking up a few fallen leaves in his wake. He raced around the corner, and everyone on the sidewalk hurried to get out of his way. The son of Jor-El had been a famous, prize-winning athlete for years, and no one wanted to be knocked over by his speeding, muscled frame.
Kal-El flew like the wind, weaving between people, his eyes locked on the thief he pursued.
The desperate man turned another corner, only to find himself face-to-face with Kal. He was taller than the thief, stronger than him, faster, and he knew his city inside and out. Kal stood straight, fists resting on his hips, an almost grim smile playing around his lips. The wind stirred up by his run flung out the silver-colored cape that fell across one powerful shoulder, and the family crest blazoned on his chest shone proudly in the ruby sunlight.
“You must be new here.”
The purse fell from the thief’s hand, and the man’s jaw dropped.
Kal bent casually to pick up the bag and peeked inside. Satisfied that nothing was missing, he continued, “You’ve got to be new, because no one who’s lived here very long would do something so foolish right under my nose.”
“Oh no, oh, you’re him, aren’t you?”
Kal went on. “Now, since you’re so obviously new to Kryptonopolis, I’m going to let you off with a warning.” He put up a hand to quell the man’s sputtering thanks. “No harm done, no foul. But I suggest you learn how we do things in this city, and quickly, before I have to teach you personally.”
The small crowd that had gathered let out a cheer, and the man hung his head, stammering more apologies and thanks. Kal smiled warmly, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder and nearly knocking him over. “You get home,” he said, fully aware of the people around him, “and start making something out of your life.”
“Yes, sir.” The crowd parted to let the thief pass, and Kal found the top of Lyla’s blonde head among the gathered citizens. Excusing himself and inching around the people who tried to get a closer look at him, he made his way toward her with the purse held out.
Lyla stood with a smile twitching on her lips despite her rolling eyes, arms folded across her chest. “My hero,” she said, slinging her bag around one shoulder and opening her arms toward him.
Kal swept her up, a boyish smile shining on his face, and one young voice made a cat-call as he kissed her.
“Alright, show’s over, no pictures, please,” said Lyla to the crowd, grabbing Kal’s hand and pulling him away. “You are way too much.”
“It’s your fault for encouraging me,” Kal teased, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into another hug.
“Oh, stop it.” Lyla shook her head as she shrugged his arms away, but she couldn’t help chuckling. Her eyes flitted to the small, circular watch embedded in the cloth of her purse. “Come on, we were supposed to meet your father for dinner half an hour ago.”
Kal winced. “Oh no, you’re right. Let’s go then. Maybe if you take some of the blame, I can skip the lecture.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Lyla laughed. “Who else gets the chance to see brave, strong, noble Kal-El scolded like a little child?”
“You already know what he’s going to say,” sighed Kal, taking her hand and heading off again down the street. He cleared his throat and put on a deep voice in imitation of his father. “And this is why you couldn’t have been a scientist, Kal-El. You must keep your appointments.”
Lyla cut in, “Even with your speed, it’s a miracle your mother and I were able to get you to all your activities on time.”
The couple laughed, but exchanged wary looks and picked up their pace.
***
Jor-El sat patiently in a bright, sunlight café, sipping a cup of tea serenely despite the two empty seats at his table. The room was buzzing with the quiet conversations that echoed around the glass walls, and glimpses of rosy sky shone through the domed skylights to lend the scene a peaceful air. The old scientist was rather fond of the place, often arranging meetings here, or simply dropping by on his own. The restaurant perched on the top of a building that overlooked a stretch of garden, so that its patrons could make out the intricate designs painted in flowers below them. Kryptonopolis was a city of great culture and beauty, and never allowed its parks and gardens to go uncared for. The man let his eyes follow a stream of water from an automated fountain to a flowerbed, as he waited for his guests.
Jor-El allowed himself a knowing smile as the conversation in the room grew a little louder, the buzz more excited. Kal-El hurried past table after table, trying desperately to return all of the greetings he received. Lyla only tried to fend off her own fans—less polite, but more efficient, as she reached Jor-El’s table before her fiancé.
“Sorry we’re late,” she offered, tucking her handbag under her chair and grabbing Kal’s hand to get him to sit.
“It’s quite alright,” said Jor-El quietly, smiling at Lyla. “Far be it from me to expect my son to be on time.”
“I’m sorry, I know.” Lyla had to stifle a giggle at her fiancé’s tone—he sounded like a child caught with his hand in a jar of sweets. “We got held up, dad, someone stole Lyla’s purse!”
“It’s true,” she added, gently stroking Kal’s wrist. “He had to rescue it for me, of course.”
“It’s not a problem.” But a wry smile crossed Jor-El’s lips. “I’m sure it took you a full hour to track down this thief, Kal-El. I understand, of course.”
“Dad…” Kal could feel his head sinking lower onto his shoulders, and a blush creeping into his cheeks. Lyla choked on the water she’d been sipping, clapping a hand to her mouth to hold back the giggles.
Jor-El chuckled low in his throat, and turned his attention to Lyla. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Lyla cleared her throat, and folded her hands on the table in front of her in a very dignified fashion.
“Tell Dad about the new movie you’re doing, Lyla,” urged Kal, anxious to take the attention away from himself.
“Right, right. It should be very good,” she started, swirling the water around in her glass. “It’s an adaptation of So Say the Wise Men, which I always loved. They wanted me for Dani, but I told them if I couldn’t play Rola, I wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. So they caved.”
“A fine choice. You should be wonderfully suited to the part, Lyla.”
The blonde grinned at Jor-El’s praise, tossing her hair back to the delight of the fanboys who still watched her from their tables at the café. The entertainment industry was thriving in the city, now that the economic recessions were so far into the past. Lyla had come along at jut the right time to take advantage of the good mood. At the age of seventeen, she had won her first part in a major film, and she hadn’t stopped working since. At twenty-five, Lyla Lerrol was the brightest star on Krypton.
Kal glanced around the room and draped his arm around Lyla’s shoulder, darting his eyes around to make sure that all the teenage boys knew what his gesture meant.
The meal was pleasant when it came, and the light conversation continued. But as the time passed, Kal began to notice the way that his father was looking off at the sky more than at his and Lyla’s faces, and the way he didn’t seem to be able to swallow without a lump coming into his throat.
“Dad?” He asked carefully, reaching a hand across the table to touch Jor-El’s. “Is everything okay?”
The old scientist sighed, taking his son’s hand and squeezing it gently. “No,” he answered very quietly, looking right into Kal’s eyes. “But we won’t talk about it just yet. How are the wedding plans coming?”
Lyla launched into a discussion of flowers and dresses, eager to move the subject away from whatever was bothering Jor-El. But Kal said little, his bright eyes searching his father’s face for a clue.
Lyla was in the middle of a long list of guests that she planned to invite, and Jor-El’s eyes were wandering even more than usual, when a young girl approached the table with a napkin and a pen clutched tightly in her hand. The flow of Lyla’s chatter slowed to a stop, replaced with an annoyed silence. “Can we help you?” She asked the girl, who was tense enough to jump a foot and squeal at being addressed.
“Ah! I—I…you…sign!?” She shoved the napkin at Kal, turning her face away with her arms shaking. He blinked and then smiled indulgently, gently prying the pen out of her hand and signing his name for her. He passed the napkin along to Lyla, begging her with his eyes not to say any of the things she was thinking. Lyla rolled her eyes, but also put down an autograph, and Kal handed the napkin back to the girl with a sweet celebrity’s smile.
The squeal that came out of the girl’s mouth as she ran back to her table made several of the café’s glasses tremble. “EEEE! I did it! I got Kalyla’s autograph!”
The look on Kal’s face at this shout nearly sent Lyla into a spit-take. Even Jor-El had to cover his mouth to hide the smile.
“Kalyla?” he asked in an almost terrified whisper.
“You don’t read the magazines.”
“I try not to.”
“That stupid name is everywhere,” Lyla went on, the corners of her mouth twitching with a barely-restrained smile. “I’m amazed you hadn’t heard it before. They came up with it when they finally found out we were dating.”
“Yes, but
Kalyla?”
It was Jor-El’s turn to laugh at his son’s expense, but the strange sadness returned to his eyes in a very short time. “Come, Son, I have something that I must discuss with you. In privacy,” he added, seeming to notice for the first time the number of eyes turned toward their table.
***
Jor-El’s laboratory was the pinnacle of Kryptonian technology. Chrome finishing sparkled from the walls and the many large machines, reflecting the ruby sunset into Kal-El’s eyes as he, Jor-El and Lyla walked into the room. It was spacious and airy, with high windows to let in natural light and clusters of crystal that lit the room after dark. The crystals glowed softly, gradually getting brighter as the sun set until their soft white light was all that bounced over the metal. Lyla had to chuckle; her soon-to-be father-in-law had such a fondness for the old laboratory style, keeping his chrome and silver despite the softer colors that were more fashionable now. But then, Lyla knew, Jor-El was not the type to keep his head down on Krypton to think about fashions. His mind belonged up in the clouds, with all of those brilliant ideas.
Off to one side of the lab, a large monitor was emitting a faint beeping sound. The screen was splashed with a cross-section of Krypton, showing all of the layers of the inside of the planet. One small area was discolored and highlighted by a pulsing red circle.
It was this machine that Jor-El led the young couple to. His lips tightened into a thin line as he studied the readout under the screen.
“It’s gotten worse…” he muttered, taking a low breath.
“What is it?” asked Kal. He saw the look of muted worry in his father’s eyes, and felt a chill run through his body. He had known Jor-El to be many things—a scientist, a reformer, a rebel, a teacher, a mentor, a friend—but never a coward. If he were afraid, there had to be something serious to be afraid of.
Jor-El sighed, closing his eyes and turning back to Kal and Lyla. The light from the crystals was too soft to fill every shadow on his face, giving the old man a weathered and heavy look. “This is going to be difficult to hear.”
“What is it, Dad?” Kal asked, more urgently. His hand tightened where it held Lyla’s, and she almost winced at the sudden squeeze.
“Look for yourself.” Jor-El stepped to the side of the machine. Kal moved forward to look, after exchanging a glance with Lyla. “You know the different layers of a planet, of course. Your mother and I must have managed to teach you something all those years ago.”
Kal shook the slight blush away from his face, and recited, “The core is the hottest at the center, different layers of the mantle after that, the crust is—wait a second.” Kal leaned closer to the monitor, now noticing the color key near the bottom of the screen. It was showing a temperature readout of all the different layers of Krypton. But the mantle seemed somehow smaller than he remembered it in his old schoolbooks, the core larger.
With a sad pride, Jor-El pointed at the red circle. “I think you see,” he said quietly.
Kal’s brow furrowed in confusion and concentration. “But that’s not right…” he placed a finger on the screen. “This part is cooler than the layers under it; it’s right up by the surface. But this says it’s hotter…a lot hotter…and just there…”
A louder, higher-pitched beep from the computer stole Jor-El’s attention, and he almost elbowed his son out of the way to study the screen again. Some of the color went out of his face.
“Another one…” He shook himself out of it and turned back to Kal, both men having seemingly forgotten the woman standing a few feet away. “I’ve checked all the instruments. I’ve run more tests than you know. This is no malfunction.”
“High-temperature pockets under the crust…but how will it even hold? That magma is over four thousand degrees Raonene.”
“I don’t know that it will. Although this is what worries me the most,” added Jor-El, refocusing the red highlight on the smaller pocket that had only just appeared. “I’m afraid they might be spreading.”
Kal gasped audibly, the same worry starting to come into his eyes. “But that couldn’t happen. The crust would break apart…” A look of horrible understanding came to Kal’s face, and his father nodded.
Hanging back, Lyla could only see Kal’s fear, and hear the ever-present, unnerving blip of the monitor. “What’s going on?” she asked quickly, unable to make head or tail of the pictures on the screen. “What does it mean?”
Both men turned toward her. Kal grabbed her hand again, as much for his own comfort as for hers. But it was Jor-El who answered.
“It means that unless something can be done very soon, Krypton is going to destroy itself.”
]