Man of Steel: The Official Movie Novelization (20 page)

“They’re coming,” he said. “You should go.”

She peered upward, unable to see what he was seeing. She hesitated, clearly reluctant to abandon him. He appreciated her loyalty, but he wanted her out of harm’s way.

“Go,
Lois.” His voice was firm.

She didn’t argue the point, thank heavens, and retreated behind the security cordon, where she joined General Swanwick and the others. With any luck, Swanwick would honor their agreement and release her once he was gone.

Superman continued to listen to the approaching spacecraft, which was louder now, and eavesdropped on the NORTHCOM folks from several yards away, as well.

“Do we have a backup plan if this goes pear-shaped?” Dr. Hamilton asked.

“Only the unthinkable one,” Swanwick said. “Code words have already been issued.”

Superman visualized mushroom clouds exploding above Earth. He prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He had met too many people he admired, all across the planet, to wish such a fate on his adopted world.

A light appeared in the sky as a Kryptonian dropship came into view. He recognized the basic design from Jor-El’s history lessons. About the size of the
Debbie Sue,
the ship resembled a giant mutant insect with a hard, impervious shell. Delta-shaped, it was aerodynamically designed to travel through both planetary atmospheres and the vacuum of space. Its thrusters flared brightly as it came in for a landing.

Hardened soldiers gasped and checked their weapons. A few crossed themselves or offered up murmured prayers. Despite his apprehensions regarding Zod’s agenda, Superman felt a tremor of excitement, as well. These were his people, after all. For the first time in his life, he was about to meet other living Kryptonians.

Maybe this was just a reunion?

The dropship touched down on the tarmac. Segmented limbs served as landing gear. A valve slid open and a solitary figure emerged in a haze of heat vapor. Clearly female, she wore an intimidating suit of jet-black armor. Jagged fins added to the uniform’s fearsome aspect. A space helmet, with a visor that consisted of an opaque force field, concealed her features—even from his X-ray vision.

She walked briskly across the runway toward Superman; confidence echoed in her every step. She saluted him with military precision and activated a control on her armor. Her visor went transparent, revealing the striking feature of an attractive female with short dark hair and icy brown eyes. Like Jor-El, she could easily have been mistaken for human.

“Kal-El,” she addressed him. “My name is SubCommander Faora-Ul. On behalf of General Zod, I extend you his greetings.”

She walked past Superman toward the security perimeter. Wary soldiers placed her in their sights, but she stopped before crossing the proverbial line in the sand. She nodded at General Swanwick, who watched her from behind a concrete barrier. Her body language conveyed a disdainful hauteur.

“Are you the ranking officer here?” she asked.

Swanwick nodded. “I am.”

She pointed at Lois, who was standing with Swanwick and the rest.

“General Zod would like this woman to accompany us.”

Colonel Hardy instinctively stepped in front of Lois. He shook his head.

“You asked for the alien,” he protested. “You didn’t say anything about one of our own citizens.”

Faora arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by Hardy’s defiance. Ignoring the colonel, she spoke directly to Swanwick instead.

“Shall I tell General Zod you are unwilling to comply?” The implied threat could not have been clearer.

“It’s all right,” Lois said. She squeezed past Hardy. “I’ll go.”

Swanwick and Hardy both stared at her in surprise, but they were in no position to argue. Swallowing his pride, the general allowed her to cross the security perimeter. Faora turned her back on the military brass and gestured for Lois to follow. They crossed the tarmac toward Superman.

“Lois,” he said anxiously. “What are you doing?”

She rejoined him next to the Kryptonian vessel.

“I’ve been at the center of this story from the beginning,” she said, and she shrugged. “I might as well see it through to the end.”

Superman didn’t like it one bit. He looked Faora in the eye.

“I’m not letting you take her,” he said firmly

Faora smirked, unimpressed.

“I was bred to kill, son of El. As were my crewmates. The specific areas of our brains governing conscience were altered, so that we are genetically incapable of feeling empathy toward our enemies.” She tilted her head toward the troops that surrounded them. “Knowing this, do you really wish to see us engage the humans arrayed around us?”

So much for a happy reunion,
Superman thought. His worst fears had been confirmed. Zod’s people were just as ruthless as Jor-El had suggested. If they possessed the same abilities he did, he could only imagine what they could do to Swanwick and his people. The fragile soldiers wouldn’t stand a chance.

He had no choice but to let them take Lois as well.

Faora knew she had the upper hand. She turned the visor opaque once more, hiding her cruel smile behind a faceless forcefield. Superman took Lois’s hand as they reluctantly boarded the dropship. As the door slid shut behind them, he glanced back at the human authorities who had delivered him into Zod’s hands. He could hear their hearts pounding.

Captain Farris had a guilty look on her face. She looked away, and Swanwick noted her reaction.

“You have something to say, Captain?” he asked.

“Just wondering if we did the right thing, sir.”

Swanwick watched the alien ship take off into the sky.

“Believe me, so am I.”

* * *

Lois had always dreamed of being the first reporter in space. This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined it, but she supposed it would have to do. She sat beside Clark—no,
Superman
—in the cockpit of the dropship as it flew beyond the atmosphere and into the vacuum. The ship rolled laterally and Earth came into view through a transparent port. Despite her perilous situation, Lois was overcome with wonder at the sight of the cloudy blue orb rotating below her. She had seen orbital photographs of Earth before, naturally, but that was nothing like looking down on the planet with her own eyes.

Holy cow,
she thought.
I’m in space... for real.

The big question, of course, was whether she would ever set foot on Earth again, now that she had literally been abducted by aliens. Or did it still count as an abduction if you volunteered—even under duress?

Superman took her hand again. Although she knew he was capable of crushing her bones to powder, his grip was both firm and gentle. To her surprise, he slipped something into her palm before withdrawing his hand.

What’s this?

Faora was busy piloting the ship, so Lois risked a peek at the object Superman had surreptitiously passed to her. It was short black spike marked with the S-sigil he wore on his chest.

Hope,
she remembered.
It stands for hope.

She shot him a quizzical look. He responded with a barely perceptible shake his head. She got the message.

Not now.

Wait.

But for what?

The ship rolled again, bringing their destination into view. The gigantic alien vessel, whose televised image had captivated the entire world, hovered before them. The squid-like mothership was easily as tall as the
Daily Planet
building, and several times larger than the huge spacecraft she’d found buried under that glacier on Ellesmere. Three mechanical tentacles hung beneath its immense obsidian mantle. Lois flinched slightly, recalling the tentacled robot that had nearly killed her.

What is it with the Kryptonians and scary pseudopods?

“Behold the
Black Zero,”
Faora said proudly.

The name meant nothing to Lois. Maybe it lost something in the translation.

An airlock slid open in the hull of the larger vessel. Faora piloted the dropship inside and touched down. The door slid shut again.

A reception committee composed of yet more alien soldiers saluted Faora as she exited with the visitors from Earth. Lois was surprised—and a little disappointed— to discover that some manner of artificial gravity was in place aboard the
Black Zero.
Her feet remained squarely on the floor.

Faora removed her helmet. She took a deep breath of the ship’s pressurized air.

“The atmospheric composition on our ship isn’t compatible with humans,” she divulged. “You will need to wear a breather beyond this point.”

She wasn’t kidding. Lois was already finding it hard to breathe. She gasped, and her lungs burned.

A female Kryptonian, whom Faora addressed as Car-Vex, fitted Lois with a respirator helmet. It was a trifle claustrophobic, but at least she could breathe more easily.

“Are you all right?” Superman asked.

“I’m okay.” She didn’t want to let on how scared she was.

An inner doorway slid open at the other end of the airlock. Wasting no time, Faora and her underlings marched them into the heart of the ship, which proved to be a very bleak and gloomy environment. Unlike the futuristic white corridors she had envisioned, the Kryptonian vessel was a warren of cramped, claustrophobic tunnels and catacombs, dimly lit, cold, and drafty. The spooky alien milieu gave her goosebumps, and not just because of the uncomfortably low temperature.

Alcatraz was cozy by comparison.

A sickly green bioluminescence provided barely enough light for her to see anything. Shivering, Lois kept her hand closed tightly on the object Superman had passed her.

She knew it had to be important. She just didn’t know why.

* * *

The doorway opened onto a cavernous, multistory chamber lined with elevated catwalks. Rows of empty cryostasis compartments lined one wall of the chamber, giving it the feel of a futuristic alien cell block. A handful of Kryptonian soldiers waited for them on a platform overlooking the ground floor of the chamber. It was clear at a glance who was the man in charge.

He stood at the forefront of the assemblage, gazing down at the visitors like a dictator addressing his subjects from a palace balcony. His stern, saturnine features lacked the warmth and gentle nobility of Jor-El, although his shrewd eyes appeared equally intelligent. He was tall and fit, but his deeply lined face looked as if it had been through the wars. Cropped brown hair was graying at the temples. His black and silver uniform, made of the same durable Kryptonian fabric as Superman’s own suit, was adorned with stripes and medals befitting his rank. A long black cloak hung from his shoulders.

“Kal-El,” he said. “You have no idea how long we’ve been searching for you.”

I’ll bet,
Superman thought. “I take it you’re Zod?”

“General
Zod,” Faora snarled. “Our commander. Show some respect, dog.”

“It’s all right, Faora,” Zod said calmly. He descended a flight of stairs to join them on the lower level. “We can forgive Kal any lapses in decorum. He’s a stranger to our ways.”

Superman remained suspicious. Zod’s graciousness seemed at odds with the way he had bullied Earth in order to get his way. So he kept a close eye on Zod, even as he began to feel oddly dizzy, and then disoriented. His eyes watered. His head felt foggy all of a sudden. He blinked in confusion.

“Please,” Zod insisted, “this moment should be cause for celebration, not conflict.”

Superman tottered unsteadily. His head was swimming. His eyes burned. Nausea twisted his stomach. He gasped for breath.

“—feel strange... weak...”

The chamber seemed to spin around him. He stumbled forward, then dropped to his knees before Zod. A groan escaped his lips.

Lois rushed to his side.

“What’s happening to him?” she asked anxiously, looking up at their captors.

“His body is rejecting our ship’s atmospherics.” Zod gazed down at Superman, who felt sicker than he had ever felt before. “You spent a lifetime adapting to Earth’s ecology, Kal. But you never adapted to
ours.”

Superman struggled to overcome this unexpected weakness. His head throbbed painfully. His limbs felt like rubber. His vision blurred. Sudden chills alternated with feverish hot flashes, while pressure built within his ears. He heard Lois calling out from what sounded like miles away.

“Help him!” she demanded.

“I can’t,” Zod replied. “Whatever’s happening to him has to run its course.”

Superman coughed hoarsely, spraying blood onto the deck of the ship. His face was cold and clammy. A cold sweat drenched him beneath his skinsuit. He could barely keep his head up. He fought to stay conscious, for Lois’s sake, even as darkness encroached on his vision.

C
lark opened his eyes. To his surprise, he was no longer aboard the
Black Zero.
Instead he glimpsed a clear blue sky beyond the front porch of his childhood home back in Smallville. He sat up and looked around. Everything was just as he remembered it—the barn, the silo, the cornfields. His old swing still hung from a tree branch in the front yard.