Man of Steel: The Official Movie Novelization

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“What various military experts surmised to be a Soviet-era submarine was actually something much more exotic. An isotope analysis of the surrounding ice bores suggests that the object had been trapped within the glacier for over 18,000 years.

“As for my rescuer? He disappeared during the object’s departure. He was working with one of the private contractors assisting in the operation, but a subsequent background check revealed that his work history and identity had been falsified. Representatives from the Department of Defense declined to comment, other than to say ‘an investigation into the matter is currently on-going.’

“I understand the military’s cautious approach. The questions raised by my rescuer’s existence are frightening to contemplate. But I also know what I saw. And I have arrived at the inescapable conclusion that the object and its occupant did not originate on Earth.”

Lois read aloud from her laptop. Reaching the end of the article, she looked up from the computer and awaited the verdict.

Perry White, editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, sat behind his desk in the corner office. A glass partition allowed him to keep an eye on the busy bullpen outside. He was a veteran newsman, whose dark hair was graying at the temples. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

A pained sigh escaped his lips.

“I can’t publish this, Lois,” he said. “You could’ve hallucinated half of it.”

But she had anticipated his response.

“What about the civilian contractors who corroborated my story?”

“The Pentagon is denying there was a ship,” he countered.

“That’s what they’re supposed to do!” she replied. “Come on, Perry. This is me we’re talking about. I’m a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter—”

“Then act like one.” He kneaded the bridge of his nose, as though he felt a headache coming on. “Our circulation is getting hammered, and you bring me this crap?”

Lois sympathized, but she would not be silenced. This story was too big to bury.

“Print it or I walk,” she said flatly.

“You can’t. You’re under contract.” He leaned forward. “Drop it, Lois. There’s no way I’m running a story about an ‘alien among us.’ It’s never going to happen.”

She recognized the stubborn tone in his voice. He wasn’t going to budge.

Fine, she thought. I have other options.

“One Old-Fashioned for the lady.”

The bartender placed a tumbler down in front of her. The Ace O’Clubs was a waterfront dive in the bad part of town. Ordinarily, Lois wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this, unless she was on the track of a story. But she was working the gutters tonight. She removed a thumb drive from her purse and slid it down the bar to the sleazeball sitting next to her.

“This is the original article,” she said, keeping her voice low. “My editor won’t publish it, but if it happened to leak online…”

Glen Woodburn picked up the drive. He was a scuzzy, middle-aged newshound who reeked of booze and tobacco.

“Didn’t you once describe my site as ‘a creeping cancer of falsehoods’?”

“I stand by my words, Woodburn,” she said, “But I want this story out there. So if you post this, I’ll feed you more.”

He eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out her angle.

“Why?”

She decided to stick with the facts.

“Because I want my mystery man to know I know the truth.”

Whatever that was.

A polar bear loped along the Arctic mountain range where the alien spaceship had come to rest. Half buried beneath windblown snow, the ship was anchored to the remote, inaccessible summit like a fortress. The bear growled at the object, and then gave it a wide berth.

Inside the craft, Clark heard the bear amble by. With any luck, that would be the only visitor to stumble upon the ship’s location. A short flight had carried it hundreds of miles away from Ellesmere, or any other human settlement. In theory, he finally had time to explore it at his leisure, now that he had left NORTHCOM—and Lois Lane—behind.

He hoped he hadn’t scared her too much.

Pushing thoughts of the attractive reporter out of his head, he inspected the lifeless bridge. A port matching the one he’d used to deactivate the mechanical sentry was located on what appeared to be a control cylinder. He took his key, which he’d retrieved from the other port, and moved to insert it experimentally into the console.

Here goes nothing, he thought.

Once again the key fit perfectly. A glowing threedimensional display appeared above the trunk-like cylinder. Streams of alien code spiraled across the screen as the console booted up. Clark braced himself for liftoff, just in case the ship decided to take off again. He still wasn’t quite sure why the ship had launched the first time, or chosen to set down here in the Arctic.

To his relief, it didn’t happen again. Instead, a threedimensional figure materialized upon the bridge. Clark recognized the bearded man as the stranger who had led him on a chase before, through the bowels of the ship. He realized now that the man was actually some kind of holographic projection.

Not a survivor then, he thought. I’m still alone.

The hologram smiled fondly. His deep voice was strangely reassuring.

“You made it,” he said. “We prayed you would, but actually seeing you here, grown into an adult.” He smiled ruefully. “Gods, I wish Lara could have witnessed this.”

Clark stared at the figure, who seemed know him.

“Who are you?”

“I am your father, Kal. Or rather,” he corrected himself, “a shadow of him. His consciousness… and conscience. My name was Jor-El.”

You have another father.

Another name.

Clark was staggered by the revelation—overcome with emotion by the sight of his birth father. This was far more than he had ever expected to find.

“And… Kal-El? Is that my name?”

The holographic figure nodded. “It is.”

“I have so many questions,” Clark said, unsure where to begin. “Where did I come from? Why did you send me here?”

The hologram, which was apparently tied into the ship’s computers, gestured broadly and an array of virtual display screens surrounded them. Alien text and images scrolled past. A colossal red sun appeared, and Clark shaded his eyes.

On another screen, horned beasts with armored hides roamed an unearthly landscape. Humanoid figures rode upon flying creatures that looked like a cross between a seal and dragonfly. A domed citadel was rooted to the top of a high cliff, much as the ship was currently anchored to the mountain. Multiple moons shone in the sky.

“You came from Krypton,” Jor-El continued. “A world with a much harsher environment than Earth’s.”

City-states spread across alien continents like time-lapsed images of growing coral colonies. Mighty starships, not unlike the one in which he stood, were built and launched into space. Their thrusters lit up the endless black.

“Long ago, in an era of expansion, our race spread out through the stars, seeking new worlds to settle upon. This scout ship was one of thousands launched into the void.”

A vast interstellar armada spread out across the galaxy, leaving Krypton’s red sun behind. Clark watched, rapt, as the history of a people he had never known played out before his eyes.

“We built outposts on other planets, using great machines to reshape the environments to our needs.”

Kryptonian explorers, sealed inside rigid space suits, set foot on distant planets, some inhospitable to life. Gargantuan World Engines, resembling immense walking oil rigs, set about transforming alien environments into something more suitable. Skies changed colors. Land masses shifted. Icecaps melted into oceans…

“For a hundred thousand years, our civilization flourished, accomplishing wonders.” At that moment, Clark caught a trace of melancholy in the hologram’s voice.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Space exploration was abandoned,” Jor-El explained. “We exhausted our natural resources. As a result, our planet’s core became unstable. Eventually, our military leader—General Zod—attempted a coup. But by then, it was too late.”

Civil war erupted across the myriad screens. A paramilitary force, armed with futuristic weapons and aircraft, turned on the government, which had its own defenders. The alien gunships resembled flying crustaceans—scarabs, trilobites, and crabs.

Bursts of white-hot plasma streaked a dim red sky. Explosions and crashing ships wreaked havoc on an alien metropolis where curved domes and spires reflected the biology-based architecture of the scout ship. Clark was saddened to see that his hidden history was one of war and destruction. It sounded as if Krypton was no better than Earth, in some respects.

It had its bullies, too.

The planet itself began to come apart on the screens. Veins of glowing green magma—most likely radioactive— broke through the crust, erupting all across the globe. It was like Krakatoa or Vesuvius, times one billion.

“Your mother and I, however, foresaw the coming calamity and took steps to ensure your survival. I knew the ancient scout ships were still out there. Left to rust on worlds we’d once considered colonizing.”

Like Earth, Clark realized. Twenty thousand years ago.

Jor-El crossed the bridge, leading him past the threedimensional screens to the platform overlooking the large, liquid-filled compartment. Clark was briefly distracted by the reference to his birth mother, but focused his attention on what the hologram was saying.

“This is a Genesis Chamber. Every scout ship came equipped with one. In the past, all Kryptonians were conceived in chambers such as this. Every child was designed to fulfill a predetermined role in our society as a worker, a warrior, a leader, and so on. Zod had his own vision for the future, one that only included the bloodlines he deemed worthy. But your mother and I envisioned something even more revolutionary.”

Jor-El turned away from the chamber to look at Clark.

“We believed that Krypton had lost something precious,” he continued. “The element of choice, of chance. What if a child dreamed of becoming something other than what society intended for him? What if he aspired to something greater? We wanted to restore that possibility. We wanted to eliminate the class distinctions entirely.”

He gazed proudly at his son. His brown eyes held both warmth and wisdom.

“You were the embodiment of that belief, Kal. Krypton’s first live birth in centuries. That’s why we risked so much to save you.”

It was a lot to absorb. Clark wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about all of this.

I’m not just an alien, he thought, I’m a special alien. One of a kind?

Alone?

Lost in thought, he followed Jor-El to the armory he had visited before. The space suits and skintight garments were still hanging in their nooks. Fashions from a dead planet.

“Was anyone else saved?” Clark asked. “What about you? My mother?”

“My memories extend only up until the moment your ship was launched. Beyond that, I can know nothing.” His voice held sympathy, yet little in the way of hope for those left behind. “Given the enormity of the disaster threatening our world, it seems unlikely that anyone could have survived.”

Clark gathered that the real Jor-El had downloaded this virtual version into the key found in the starcraft that had brought him to Earth as a baby. He must have planned that “Kal-El” would be drawn to the buried scout ship.

“Why didn’t you come with me?” Clark asked.

“We couldn’t, Kal. No matter how much we loved you, we were a product of our world’s failures as much as Zod was, tied to its fate. Trapped in ancient tribal divisions. We knew that.”

His sad, thoughtful tone reminded Clark of his dad, Jonathan Kent, who had also fretted about his son’s future—and what it meant for Earth.

“So I’m alone,” Clark said.

Jor-El shook his head.

“You are not. You’re as much a child of Earth now as you are of Krypton. You can embody the best of both worlds. The dream your mother and I gave our lives to preserve.

“The people of Earth are different from us, it’s true,” he continued, “but I believe that’s a good thing. They won’t make the same mistakes we did. Not if you guide them, Kal. Not if you bring them hope.”

He gestured at the big red “S” on the blue suit, then drew back his own robes to reveal the same “S” embossed on his own uniform.

“That’s what this symbol means. That’s what you can bring them.”

Hope.