Greg Cox - Man of Steel

Then he could get back to Metropolis and deal with Zod directly.

One solid blow, he thought, and Earth is safe.

But the Engine detected the threat before he made impact. Reacting in self defense, it unfurled tendrils of magnetized geological fragments that lashed out at him, entwining themselves around him like the stinging tentacles of a Portuguese man-o’-war.

Superman’s face contorted with pain as the molten tendrils squeezed his ribs. They were hundreds of time more powerful than the plasma whips that had attacked him when he first discovered the frozen scout ship.

Too bad he couldn’t turn these off with a command key!

The C-17 cargo plane trailed behind the jet fighters. It made a wide loop around the Black Zero, with the goal of letting the F-35s soften up the Kryptonians first.

Up in the cockpit, Lois shared a worried look with Colonel Hardy as the diverted missiles dropped onto Metropolis, and not Zod’s ship. The sight of the Sidewinders, blowing up her city in advance of the gravity column, made her sick to her stomach. Metropolis was taking a beating, with worse to come.

Giving up on the missiles, the fighters closed in on the Black Zero and opened fire with their 25mm GAU rotary cannons. They fought the effects of the gravity vortex every inch of the way. A hail of armor-piercing rounds targeted the Kryptonian ship, only be deflected by the same forces that had sent the Sidewinders astray.

Thousands of rounds of ammo went flying away from the Black Zero , much of it captured by the halo of debris spinning around the vessel. Lois imagined Faora and Car-Vex and the other Kryptonians sneering at the humans’ pitiful efforts.

“Lightning-1 is Winchester!” the lead fighter pilot reported. A former army brat, Lois knew that “Winchester” was military slang for out of ammo. “Our guns are ineffective.”

Worse yet, the F-35s themselves were being caught in the gravity field. Unable to get clear of the Black Zero , the fighters began to spiral out of control. An edge of panic rattled the pilot’s voice.

“My whole bird’s being pulled off course!” His plane plummeted toward the city. “Mayday! Mayday! Lightning-1 has lost control! Bailing out! Bulls-eye three-six-zero, for twenty!”

Lois held her breath as the pilot ejected from the fighter only seconds before it crashed into downtown Metropolis. She couldn’t see what happened to him, but had a feeling that he, too, had been caught in the inescapable destructive forces. She didn’t like to think of what they did to an unprotected human body.

A second jet slammed into the city streets a few blocks away. That pilot didn’t even make it out in time.

A fireball mushroomed up from the wreckage.

So much for our escort, Lois thought.

But the C-17 did not turn back. Instead the cargo plane edged closer to the Black Zero and the voracious gravity field. The cockpit vibrated violently, as though they were flying into a hurricane. Hardy gripped the controls, fighting to keep the plane on course. Lois held on tightly to the armrests of her jump seat. The plane’s entire airframe was shaking.

“Gravity field is pulling down our planes!” Hardy notified NORTHCOM. “If we don’t fall back, we’re going to get sucked in with them. Request permission to hold south-east of enemy’s position.”

“Roger that, Guardian,” Swanwick replied. “Widen your perimeter. Alpha hold-point until further notice!”

The violent shaking subsided as the plane pulled away from the Black Zero and began circling the Kryptonian ship at a safer distance. Lois appreciated not crashing, but wondered how on Earth they were going to complete their mission.

“If Superman doesn’t bring down that ‘World Engine,’” Hardy said, spelling it out for her, “we’ll never get close enough to their ship to deliver the package.”

Lois put her faith in Superman.

“If he said he can do it,” she said, “he’ll do it.”

“And what happens then?” Hardy asked. “Wasn’t he exposed to the same energies as the rest of them on their way to Earth? We open up this Phantom Zone thing… won’t he be pulled back with them?”

That ghastly possibility had already crossed her mind.

“I don’t know, Colonel. But it wouldn’t be the first time he’s risked his life for us.”

Empty creches budded as the Genesis Chamber came online. Zod’s patriotic heart filled with pride as he envisioned a new generation of Kryptonians spreading forth from this Arctic fortress to claim a virgin world.

“You should thank me, Jor-El,” he gloated. “You dreamt of rebuilding Krypton. I’m making that dream a reality.”

The hologram disagreed.

“You’re perverting the dream,” it said. “Our people can coexist with them.”

“Why should we?” Zod countered. “So we can suffer through years of pain, trying to adapt like your son has?” He scoffed at so dismal a future. “That’s not existing. I want to breathe the air of Krypton again. I want to feel the solid weight of our world beneath my feet.”

Jor-El’s hologram reacted with predictable self-righteousness.

“You’re talking about genocide!”

“Yes,” Zod answered without regret or apology. He started to justify his agenda, but realized how pointless that would be. “And I’m arguing its merits with a ghost.”

“We’re both ghosts, Zod. Don’t you see that? The Krypton you keep clinging to is gone. It failed… just as your desperate actions will.”

Despite himself, Zod was shaken by the hologram’s dire prophecy. He wanted to concentrate on the future, not dwell on the events of the past. Things would be different this time, on this world. No matter what this annoying simulacrum said.

“Ship,” he said, raising his voice. “Have you managed to quarantine this invasive intelligence?”

The scout ship’s computer, now slaved to his control, responded promptly.

“Yes, sir.”

He made a mental note to reprogram the computer to address him by his proper rank of general.

“Prepare to terminate it.” He cast a contemptuous look at all that was left of Jor-El. “I’m tired of this debate.”

The hologram seemed undaunted by the threat of deletion. He shook his head reproachfully.

“Silencing me won’t change anything,” it responded. “My son is twice the man you were. And he will finish what we started. I promise you that.”

Zod’s temper flared. How dare this bodiless apparition compare a true Kryptonian patriot—genetically crafted to defend and preserve their people—to a misbegotten traitor who should have never been conceived?

“Tell me,” he said with deliberate malice. “You have Jor-El’s memories, his emotions. Can you experience his pain?”

The hologram’s silence spoke volumes.

“I will harvest the Codex from your son’s corpse,” Zod promised, wielding his words as a weapon. He twisted the knife as he had back on Krypton, when he had killed Jor-El the first time. “And I will rebuild Krypton atop his bones.”

Then he slammed his command key all the way into the central control port, asserting his authority over the scout ship and its systems. The computer purged the rogue A.I. from its memory banks, causing the image to abruptly dematerialize. Zod savored the sight of “Jor-El” dissolving into random photons before blinking out entirely.

This time around, he experienced no regret at executing his old friend.