Chapter Eight
Diana led Wells, Clark and Superman into another chamber of the fortress. They were now in a large room filled with row upon row of small, translucent spheres, with each one sitting on a four-foot-tall pedestal. Each sphere emitted a faint light, which gave the room an eerie, ethereal glow.
"These spheres are a form of Kryptonian technology," Diana explained. "They store holograms of historic events. This was how records were kept on Krypton."
Superman recognized the technology. A similar globe had been in the spaceship that brought him to Earth. It was from this globe that he first learned of Krypton.
Diana turned back for a moment to the three men behind her. She looked back and forth between Clark and Superman. She was not quite sure what to make of that fact that Clark looked so much like the man she knew as Kal-El, or that this man called Superman wore the same emblem that adorned Kal-El's chest.
"I still do not fully understand who you are, travelers," she continued. "But I understand that you are here to help. If that is so, then you should first understand how things got to be this way." She led them past several rows of the globes. "Things were not always like this. Not always so dark, and so grim. Even Kal-El was different at first. When he first formed The League, he claimed he wanted to help mankind, and create a better future for the world. He was driven and determined, but there was still a quiet calm within him. His eyes were full of intensity and intelligence." She stopped before one particular row of globes. She ran her hands over several of them, trying to feel which one was the right one. "I even came to love him," Diana said.
She gently lifted one of the globes off its pedestal, and cradled it in both hands. She raised it up and the light spilled onto her face, reflecting in her blue eyes.
"Once we formed The League, we had all but rid the world of crime and violence," Diana continued. "We saw ourselves as leaders, but some felt otherwise. Some saw us as a threat. Some did not want us." She held the globe high above her head. "It had been years since anyone had attempted a terrorist attack on a large scale. Then, one fateful, terrible day… everything fell apart."
The globe glowed brighter, until its light filled the entire chamber. Diana, Wells, Clark and Superman watched as history played out before their eyes.
. . . . . . . . .
Some of the passengers on the plane couldn't help but scream. Others cowered silently in their seats, slinking down as far as they could, as if they could somehow disappear from this horrible scene. Many prayed. Most cried. All were terrified.
The pilot and copilot lay dead on the cabin floor. Two men, terrorists from the Eastern European nation of Pokolistan, had taken control of the plane. They had redirected its course, and it was now headed straight for the Statue of Liberty. The plane was now just a few more agonizing moments away from a horrible, fiery end that would surely kill everyone on board, destroying an icon of freedom in the process.
Suddenly, the plane shook violently and was thrown to one side. There was a loud wrenching sound, like the tearing of metal. The plane was cast wildly off course. The passengers' screaming grew louder as the plane was thrown back to the other side, and they heard once again the screeching sound of metal being ripped apart.
The terrorists burst out of the cabin and looked out the side windows. To their astonishment, the plane no longer had wings. The terrorists, and any passenger who wasn't buckled in, went tumbling to the floor as the plane flew into a nosedive, heading straight down towards New York Harbor. They hit the water with a thunderous splash, the entire plane shaking.
The side of the plane ripped open like a tin can and water began to gush in. The panicking passengers began to run for the back of the cabin as the water quickly filled the submerged front half. A man burst in through the opening in the side of the plane. Through the spraying water, all that was clearly visible of the black-clad figure was the silver "S" on his chest and the glowing red fire in his eyes.
The plane was now almost completely full of water. The terrified passengers struggled to keep their heads high enough to take in precious gulps of oxygen. The figure in black moved through the water effortlessly, walking toward the front of the cabin where the two terrorists frantically tried to find an air pocket. Now it was their turn to be afraid.
In one deft motion, the man in black placed his hands on the cabin ceiling and pushed, his feet lifting off the ground. The plane rose up out of the Harbor, water quickly draining back out through the opening. The passengers breathed in huge gasps of air as their breathing room returned to them.
The plane soared high into the air once more, not by its own accord but through the power of the man in black. Then, with one hand, he grabbed one of the terrorists by the drenched collar of his soaking wet shirt. In an instant the man flew out of the plane, dragging the terrorist with him. The plane filled once more with the sounds of terrified screams as it plummeted back towards the Harbor.
High up in the sky the terrorist began chanting a prayer in his native Pokolistan language.
"You want to pray to someone?" the man known as Kal-El said. "You pray to me."
Kal-El's heat vision burned into the terrorist's flesh. He screamed in agony as he was literally set aflame. Then, from 50 miles straight up, Kal-El dropped him and let him plummet down through the air.
The plane's rapid descent toward the Harbor was stopped suddenly as Kal-El repositioned himself beneath the plane, once again pushing it back high into the sky through his sheer force of strength and will. He flew higher and higher with it, before he, again, darted back inside the plane and grabbed the second terrorist. Then he allowed the plane to fall again, spiraling back towards the Harbor.
Kal-El flew the second terrorist even higher into the sky. Higher and higher, he watched as the man's face turned blue and he gasped and clawed at the air, the oxygen becoming thinner and thinner at the higher altitude.
"You are a weak, flawed race," Kal-El said. "I offer you peace. I offer you protection. I see now that I've been far too easy on you. I've been going about this all wrong. In a world free from crime, you still try to kill each other. Fine. You can follow me, or you can burn in Hell."
Again, Kal-El let loose with a blast of his heat vision, setting the terrorist's flesh ablaze. This time, instead of dropping him, he hurled him upwards with all his might, sending the man out into the cold empty vacuum of space. Then, Kal-El shot back down to Earth, snagging the plane just seconds before it would have struck the water once again. He flew the plane over to dry land, and set it down, gently.
Before the petrified passengers could even begin to disembark the plane and try to figure out what had happened, Kal-El was gone, returning to the sky. It was time for him to begin the work that must be done, the work that was long overdue.
Only a few hours later. The people of Pokolistan knew something was wrong long before they saw him. The air turned cold, and a feeling of unexplainable dread passed over the land. No one knew what was wrong, only that something did not feel right.
Then, they saw him, up in the sky. The black figure on the horizon, carrying his heavy load. People pointed and cried out, scattering and running for their homes. He quickly grew larger, drawing closer at an alarming rate. Soon it became quite clear what they were seeing. It was Kal-El, leader of The League, Last Son of Krypton. Across his shoulders he carried a huge ray gun.
He fired it for the first time when he was still miles away from the village. A group of men vanished before they even had time to run. Full-fledged panic set in now. He had come for them. This was the end. Another blast from the ray gun, and another group of people disappeared. His heat vision tore houses apart, so he could get to those inside. No one could hide from him. He would get them all. Men. Women. Children.
He would send everyone who lived in Pokolistan to the Phantom Zone.
