“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.
Jor-El and Kelex took up defensive positions before the door. He wished they had drilled for this more often, but the Citadel of the House of El had never come under siege in Jor-El’s lifetime. He had always counted on Krypton’s security forces to keep him safe from riots, insurrections, or invasions. Indeed, Zod had been brutally effective at keeping the peace for years—before he turned against the Council.
A titanic blast blew open the doors, filling the landing bay with smoke and debris. Jor-El and Kelex didn’t wait for the invaders to enter, but opened fire immediately, driving the attackers back with a blistering salvo of plasma fire. They rushed forward to defend the breached archway, even as the intruders regrouped on the open terrace beyond. Black uniforms and armor identified them as Zod’s partisans. Jor-El nodded grimly. It seemed that his old friend had come calling.
Taking cover beneath the archway, he assessed the scene. Rebel gunships, encrusted with armor, flared in overhead. There was Zod, leaning from the open bay of the lead ship, directing the assault. His harsh voice carried across the distance between them.