Chapter 14: Welcome Home, Kal-El

Argo City, Krypton

For all the country was on the brink of a full-scale civil war, Argo City was undeniably beautiful. Towering glass buildings surrounded by vast mountain peaks brought the landscape alive. Miles of magnificently manicured lawns and overhanging trees in autumn bloom invited the eye to linger and appreciate the fall vibrancy of orange and red. And the road from the airport into the capital city would've evoked awe in even the most jaded of tourist if dozens of armed soldiers, lumbering tanks, and sporadic remnants of bombed cars and bullet-riddled buildings hadn't interrupted the spectacular view of the ancient city.

Yet it was the stunning presidential compound that had made Clark sit up and take notice. Vaulted ceilings, long winding hallways of black-and-white marble, spiraling staircases, mahogany doors, and floor after floor of handcrafted Kryptonian sculptures and paintings, both antique and modern, reminded Clark of a museum unsure whether it was of the past or tossed unceremoniously into the present.

He'd been stunned into silence when Clark and Jor had been escorted through the thirty-foot security gate and into the ten-level grand mansion, housing offices as well as living quarters. But none of the luxury of the guest chamber assigned to Clark and Jor, nor the tasty Kryptonian cuisine fed them, or even the unexpected reverence afforded them by the staff set Clark at ease, making him feel better about his mission.

In fact, the treatment served only to intensify his anxiety. Now, three days after their arrival, Clark was ready to tear the mansion apart in search of President H'el.

The expertly decorated suite, done in ivory-and-blue with thick carpeting, whirlpool bath, king-size bed, flat screen television, two walk-in closets, and a balcony overlooking a garden should've been an ideal spot for rest and relaxation but felt more like a gilded cage.

Clark spun to face his father, who was seated on a plush dark-blue chaise lounge in Clark's room. Jor's room was next door, connected to Clark's by an adjoining door.

"We should've been on our way back home by now. We've been cooling our heels for three damn days." Three days Diana did not have. "When will the president deign to fit us into his schedule?"

Upon arriving, they'd been informed that the president was away from the mansion, but that his personal assistant would see to their needs. And the man had. But that had been three, long days ago and no one had deemed fit to give them an ETA on the president since then. Worse, all communication outside of Krypton was shut down, meaning, no calls in or out, including Clark's cell phone, which just pissed him the hell off. Not only could he not let Lois and C.J. know he'd arrived safely, as he'd promised, he had no way of checking on his wife. That alone had Clark on edge, ready to spit bullets.

Jor shook his head, mirroring Clark's frustration. He stood. "I don't like it."

Neither did Clark, especially the way everyone seemed to stare at him and Jor, referring to them as Lord El. Jor seemed to take the reverence in stride, only pausing in discomfort the first time the assistant, Mr. Wal, had said, "Welcome home, Lord Jor El."

That had taken Clark aback but he'd let it go, even when Mr. Wal had turned to him and repeated the same greeting. Since then, everyone who'd introduced himself or herself to Clark had used the same title. Even Jor, since landing in Argo City had stopped calling him Clark. Here, in this oddly familiar place, Clark Kent had given way to Kal El.

Now that he did not like, particularly since the name and title obviously carried a weight and significance to the people here. A weight and significance not known to Clark, but one Jor was damn sure going to explain.

After the heart-to-heart on the plane, Clark didn't have it in him to push his father further. The older man was gutted emotionally. Dredging up the past was the type of heavy lifting Clark and Diana used to do when they were trying to find their way back to each other. But three days had past. Time enough for Jor to have gotten his legs back under him.

"H'el should've been here to meet us. I contacted him when Diana was first taken ill. He knows why we came, said he would help us."

Even though Jor had told Clark of his long-ago association with H'el, that wasn't enough to explain why, thirty years later, Jor would have the president's personal number and ear. Diana, for all that she used to work for the Obama Administration, still had to go through proper channels to reach the man himself. Yet Jor, a retired scientist and convicted felon, had a direct line to the President of Krypton. Something doesn't add up.

"Why would he help us, Dad? Why would H'el even care about you or a woman he's never met before?"

When Jor mentioned traveling to Krypton to retrieve the antidote for Diana, Clark had simply assumed his father would contact a medical facility that carried the drug or search the belongings he and Lara had put in storage when they moved to New York - old papers or something just as simple. No way did Clark think his father had contacts at the highest place of government.

Jor's hands went to the pockets of the gray sweater he wore, a gesture Clark's come to associate with nerves, anxiety.

Pulling a chair from a small writing table, Clark sat, his silent way of telling his father he was calm and ready to listen to whatever he had to say. He knew he wouldn't like it. Frankly, he was tired of all the family secrets coming at him in dribbles and drabbles when it suited his father. But until the scare with Diana, Clark had no interest in Krypton or family history. The Kents, Diana, and his three children were all the family Clark cared about. So perhaps it shouldn't have surprised Clark that Jor and Lara had shared so little of their homeland and past with him.

The truth was that Clark hated looking back. Pain and lost were held there, so much so that ignoring it always seemed the best option. And hadn't that been why Clark and Diana rarely discussed their first marriages, why Clark found it so difficult to visit Pa Kent's gravesite, and why he objected to giving the girl's a Kryptonian name even when it was Diana who had made the suggestion?

Little good came from living one's life looking back instead of facing forward. Or so I thought. Perhaps I've been wrong all these years. Maybe, but it was Winston Churchill who once said, "If we open a quarrel between past and present, we shall find that we have lost the future."

And right now, all the mess with the Els and Zods seemed to be just that, a quarrel between the past and the present, threatening to ruin Clark's and Diana's future.

Jor returned to the chaise lounge, hands on the seat cushions instead of in his pockets.

"I already told you about how Zod killed my parents and claimed the title of High Councillor for his own. I also told you how his men tracked your mother and me down after we fled Krypton. And I also shared with you, more or less, how we used the kryptonite to defeat Zod and his Guild. What I didn't tell you was what happened after that."

No he hadn't, another layer to a growing drama that left Clark weary.

"Do me a favor, Dad, skip all the high drama and minute details and get to the bottom line."

"Okay, fine. Once Zod had been banished to Phantom Zone Prison, the country was in turmoil. Chaos reigned; people flooded the streets burning everything that reminded them of the Zod regime. But they also attacked each other, using the tattered government as an excuse to seek revenge or commit a host of crimes. The country was on the verge of imploding. Something had to be done. A strong leader was needed to bring everyone together, to get everything under control."

"H'el? Is that how the man came into power, on the heels of anarchy?"

"Well, not exactly. You see, son, Krypton was founded by nine families. And since that founding, over two thousand years ago, the nine families have ruled – an eldest son or daughter, a scholarly patriarch or matriarch, a rebellious but brilliant youngest child, but from the nine families, always selected from the nine."

Another blinder was slowly falling away; widening Clark's vision to encapsulate all that had been hidden.

"The Els were one of the nine, which was why your grandfather, Kal El, was able to ascend to the rank of High Councillor."

He'd been named after his grandfather. When Jor had told Clark the story of his parents' assassination, he'd never spoken their first names. Now, well, Clark understood the reverence in the staffers' eyes and, most importantly, that Jor had given Clark his father's sacred name. It had been an honor that Clark knew nothing about because his parents never shared the importance of the name with him. Hell, not even Kara had bothered to enlighten Clark . . . Kal.

Suddenly, Clark felt like the kid he'd been at Smallville Elementary School when, in the third grade during a lesson on the family, the class was asked to draw their family tree. Clark had stared at his blank sheet of white paper while all the other kids had gotten to work, filling in parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

When his teacher, Mrs. McNamara, had come around to collect his work, wondering why his paper was blank, he'd told her, "I only have a Ma and Pa Kent, and I don't really belong to them. I have no tree, no roots, no family." Then he'd balled up the paper and asked to go to the nurse's office." Kind Mrs. McNamara had written him a pass to the nurse's office and, thankfully, never mentioned what he'd said to the Kents. While they would've understood, like they always had, it would've hurt them.

Clark felt his face heat with anger, at Lor for being so closed-lipped about their family and at Clark for not seeking the answers he used to want to know so badly. And this history, both the good and the bad, belonged as much to Jor and Lara El as it did to Kara, Clark and his children, whom, Clark stubbornly decided, would learn all about when they were old enough to understand.

"Go on, Dad."

"As much as H'el was a respected scientist and was instrumental in defeating Zod, his family was not one of the nine. The people would've never listened to him, accepted his rule." Jor took in a deep breath and blurted, "So I became High Councillor with Lara as my second, the same as my parents and their parents before them."

Clark could've crashed to the floor. High Councillor? My father was High Councillor?

"Are you all right, Clark? Do you need a drink of water?"

No, Clark didn't need a god damn drink of water. What he needed were normal parents who had a simple, uneventful past. Instead, what he got were offspring of nobles turned scientists turned fugitives turned rulers of freakin' Krypton.

"I'm fine." He wasn't, and they both knew it. But Jor, who'd risen when Clark began to sway in his chair, lowered himself back to the chaise lounge.

They both breathed deeply and said nothing for quite a while, Clark trying to catch what was left of his mind. Jor watched him with concern, and Clark wished, not for the first time since embarking on this trip, that he could discuss it all with Diana. Each time the unconscious desire rose within, it reminded Clark how much he'd come to depend on his wife, how much he valued her opinion, how much he loved her, and how small his life would become without her.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "You just shocked me was all. Go on. I'm listening."

His father wasted no time finding the thread of his tale. Now that he'd begun, Jor seemed anxious to tell all.

"I didn't really want the position. By all rights, it should've gone to Zor, my older brother. But Zor wanted the mantle less than I did. He and Alura had Kara. They didn't want to disrupt her life or theirs."

The fact that Jor and Lara had, as far as anyone knew, no children, went unsaid. So, of course, they had the time to devote to the rebuilding of their country.

"But you were the El who'd saved Krypton from Zod, not your brother."

"Yes. It made bringing the populace under control relatively easy. It took weeks for the attacks and looting to completely stop and longer still to reinstate the High Council. But once that was done, I began transitioning H'el, who'd I'd appointed as Regent, into my position. It was a delicate process. Once people saw his competence and dedication, he became the face of the new and free Krypton. His name was on all official documents. He led the Council while your mother and I gradually faded into the background."

"B-but Diana hired an investigator to find you and Mom." After they'd broken up, Diana had hired a professional investigator to find Clark's parents. He hadn't known at the time, but Diana wanted to help him find his birth parents and, if possible, fill in the gaps from his childhood. If Diana's investigator had learned who Jor and Lara El truly were, no way would he have kept that out of his report to her.

"Diana's man found us, as you know. And she later came herself to check us out for Martha Kent to make sure we weren't crazies who would ruin your life if you learned where we lived and that we wanted to meet you."

Realization struck and Clark narrowed his eyes at his father. "You paid her investigator off, didn't you? To keep your little secret?"

"For all of Krypton's outward beauty, Kal, it's an isolationist nation. We have no political or military allies. We're self-sustaining, although we keep our borders open for tourism and the like, but few come. And we do nothing to entice outsiders to visit. We are a guarded nation, protecting ourselves, our government, and technological inventions from those who could do us harm. And part of that protection is not letting others know exactly how we rule Krypton. As far as the outside world, H'el is, at best, the president, at worse, the dictator. Yet the real power rests with the High Council. They are to be guarded at all costs."

"Including lies and secrecy?"

"Yes, Kal, including lies and secrecy. We lost an entire Council before. No one wants a repeat of that. The nine houses, the nine families are Krypton, for better or for worse. That is our legacy. That is what it means to be an El in Krypton. Here, my son, you are Lord Kal El, son of Lord Jor El and Lady Lara El, heir to the High Councillorship. By my grace, H'el serves, but rightfully, the throne, if you will, belongs to you, and, of course, as wife and mother to your children, Diana."

Speechless and numb, Clark stared, open-mouthed at his father – Lord Jor El, former High Councillor of Krypton. And I'm heir to a nation I've never cared about, with a madman on the loose and a deadly biological weapon at his disposal. Welcome home, Kal El, welcome home.

TO BE CONTINUED