Tir-El stood on the floor of the council chamber, his body wreathed in a circle of light. In the darkness around him echoed the angry murmur of many voices speaking at once. Then a single voice boomed throughout the chamber, stilling the indignant chatter.

"Silence!"

Another light blazed to life, revealing the Chairman where he sat above in his high seat. The young man lifted his head arrogantly and regarded the old man before him with an expression of annoyance.

"Once more you come before us, Tir-El," he spoke sharply. "And once more you create a disturbance. We have heard these wild claims before. Do you have nothing new to say?"

Tir-El moved his steady gaze across the shadowed figures of the men and women in the chamber around him, searching their faces for some sign of understanding. He saw none. They were all so very young, too young to remember the world they had lost and too vain to believe that there was ever anything greater than themselves.

"I speak only the truth. All the evidence is here," he wearily replied, holding aloft a crystal cylinder that gleamed brightly as if lit from within. "If any of you had learned the sciences instead of spending your days growing fat and idle, you would see it as plainly as I."

A rustle of heated whispers and laughter answered him. It ceased as the chairman spoke again.

"Mind yourself, scholar," he chastened with a cold smile. "We are not so ignorant. Your motives are quite clear. You seek to frighten us back to the old ways with your accusations and predictions of impending doom. Can't you see that the old ways have failed? We have no use for ancient rituals here. The City provides for all our wants and needs. Let us enjoy it in peace!" The young man leaned back in his chair dismissively, the light around him fading to a dim glow. "As the last of the Elders you have been allowed to remain on our Council," his voice echoed from the darkness. "But you grow tiresome. Continue these outbursts and you may find yourself removed."

All was silent for a moment. Then Tir-El spoke, raising his eyes to the assembly above.

"I do not speak now of the past, only the future. You have become decadent, indulging your every whim and abusing the machines which sustain us. That is why we are in danger." A dissonant murmur erupted once more, but he raised his voice and spoke over it, hoping beyond hope to find some who would still listen.

"The energy core is depleted and grows weaker day by day! Soon the gravity will fail and the air will stop flowing. Argo is dying, and we shall die with it if nothing is done!" He strode to a nearby panel and waved his hand over the glowing crystals. The domed ceiling faded into transparency, revealing an unending expanse of faint stars set against the blackness of space.

The chamber lapsed into an uneasy silence. He had given them an uncomfortable reminder that they were a people adrift in the void between stars, kept alive by devices that few of them now had the interest to even see, let alone understand. He met the gaze of the chairman, and for an instant the young man's arrogant facade broke away to reveal the frightened eyes of a child. Then the chairman's pride returned, and banished the last of their hope.

-----

A gout of flame suddenly burst upward directly in the snagriff's path. Kara's fingers moved delicately over the crystals, guiding the animal quickly away from the blast. Back on course, the snagriff flew onward toward its destination cheerfully even as more flames began to issue up around it.

"Stupid creatures," Kara muttered to herself as her fingers began to move faster. "Who builds their nest right next to a volcano anyway?"

She had nearly made it when a huge column of fire blazed up, engulfing her snagriff and reducing the poor lizard to ashes. Kara sighed. She hated this game, but it was the only one her uncle allowed her to play. She suspected he was trying to teach her some kind of lesson with it. Reluctantly she began again, watching as the shimmering image of her new snagriff hatched in midair. Suddenly she heard the sound of the door. She looked up just as her uncle entered, her heart immediately sinking as she saw his face. There was no need to ask what had happened. He moved slowly into the workshop, his expression as cold and lifeless as the machines he worked on. They had lost.

Kara left her game and went to hug him, but he pulled away from her. Her uncle walked silently to his console and stood with his head bowed in defeat. Kara struggled to fight back her tears. There seemed to be so little left of the strong and smiling man that she had come to love like a father. It was almost too much for her to bear. She looked on miserably as he took a crystal sphere from the console and set it spinning slowly in the air. The image of a planet appeared around it, a world with indigo oceans and pale blue clouds. It was ghostly and beautiful. He looked at it with an expression of bitterness, or perhaps regret. Kara felt only a vague sense of loss. It was a planet she had never seen, or would ever see. She had never known any home other than the City, and there were no oceans or clouds here, only shimmering phantoms of light. She often imagined how beautiful their planet must have been with its cascading waterfalls and towers of crystal. But all of that had vanished long ago.

"I told them," her uncle said quietly, his eyes seeming fixed on something beyond the confines of the room. His fists were clenched in anger. "Time and time again. Even begged them. But still they would not listen. They have all become spoiled and arrogant, too afraid to admit the truth." With a sudden movement, he snatched the sphere from the air and hurled it to the floor. Kara started as it shattered into a thousand sparkling pieces. Drawn by her movement, he turned toward her as if noticing her for the first time. His eyes fell upon her and his expression quickly softened.

"Our world was lost because wisdom failed us," he said, walking close and placing his hand gently upon her shoulder. "We were blind, even with all our great knowledge, or perhaps because of it. Now it is happening again." He sighed then slowly drew himself up, his shoulders seeming less bowed than before. A flicker of hope had returned to his eyes.

"They will not listen," he said, smiling sadly. "So be it. They have doomed themselves, but they will not doom us."

Kara threw her arms around him, relieved to see that the man she knew was returning.

"What can we do?" she asked. "Is there still a way to save Argo?"

Her uncle shook his head. "No. Even if we had convinced them to slow the use of energy, we would have only gained more time…time enough perhaps to have found a place of safety for us all. But now we can only hope to save a few." He hesitated for a moment, looking almost ashamed. "I have kept this a secret for many years, Kara, even from you. I hope you will forgive me when you see it. Come."

Puzzled, Kara followed him down a long corridor that lead from his workshop to a section of the lower City where she had seldom been before. They stopped before a large door, and her uncle opened it to reveal a chamber lined with a vast array of softly glowing crystalline consoles. Kara gasped in amazement, but the consoles were not what had filled her with awe. Beyond a transparent wall at the far end of the chamber stood a small ship. Its sleek teardrop-shaped hull gleamed brightly even in the faint light of the crystals.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, walking up to look at the silvery craft more closely. She had seen images of machines like it before, but she had never dreamed that she would see a real one. "Does it work?"

Her uncle smiled grimly and stood beside her. "It was damaged and nearly forgotten when Argo was thrown clear from our world. I have been working over the years to repair it. It is nearly ready now." His smile faded as he took Kara gently by the shoulders and looked sternly into her eyes. "I know that there are people in the City whom you care about greatly, but you must not speak a word about this ship to anyone, not even your closest friends. When the time is right we will tell them, but for now it must remain a secret. Promise me that you will keep it."

Kara's face fell for a moment, but she quickly looked back and met his gaze. "I promise, Uncle."

-----

A wave of exhaustion passed over him, nearly causing him to stumble. Tir-El paused and leaned heavily against the ship for a moment. It seemed that his body was finally beginning to betray its age. That it may fail him before his task was done was something he feared greatly, but he said nothing of it to Kara. He looked over to her and saw that she was still working intently on the ship's engine, her jaw set in a look of stubborn concentration. Her blonde hair was pinned back behind her head and a smudge of green conductant decorated her cheek. Tir-El couldn't help but smile.

"Your parents would have been very proud."

She glanced up at him curiously. "Why do you say that?"

He moved over to gently rub her face with a cleaning cloth. "Because you are strong. You often remind me of them, your father especially. He used to have much the same expression when he was lost in his work. Your mother called it his 'world-saving' face." For a moment Tir-El let his mind wander back to the early days of Argo City, when he and a few other far-seeing men and women had struggled to save their people from destruction. Then he had been young and full of hope even in the face of desperation. Now he was an old man, and his hope was failing.

"I wish I had known them," she said, a distant sadness appearing in her eyes.

"So do I," he answered, returning from his memories. "I wish they could have seen the young woman you've become. I know that they would have been proud of you, as I am. You are a true daughter of Krypton. Not like…" He trailed off, not wishing to bring up old arguments.

"Uncle. You can't blame them all. Some are good people. They're just stubborn…like you."

He forced a smile to his face. "I know. But we must get back to work. Time is growing short, and every hour counts." He did not have the heart to tell her that even with their best efforts the ship might still not save them. If any of the others were to discover what they intended to do, their efforts were doomed.

The hours passed into days, and days into weeks. As Tir-El had predicted, the City's functions grew erratic as the machines began to fail. The citizens of Argo grew uneasy. Many simply continued in their diversions and ignored the signs of danger, but a growing number became even more wild and destructive, seeming to sense that their time was running short.

Tir-El monitored the decline closely, though what he saw only confirmed his worst fears. He thought bitterly of all the struggles and sacrifices of the past and how they would soon come to nothing. Perhaps they had been doomed from the start. The City had been designed as an orbital observatory from which the people of Krypton could watch the stars, not as a lifeboat to ferry its population across the gulf of space. After the disaster that claimed their planet, the scientists aboard had modified Argo to suit their needs as best they could. For a time all had been well. A new generation was born and the City seemed to be thriving. Then another disaster struck. When Kara had been only three years old, a meteor tore through the research dome where most of the scientists had been working. Kara's parents, Zor-El and Alura, made an attempt to rescue the trapped survivors but were lost themselves when the dome tore free from Argo and broke apart. Only Tir-El and two others had escaped. With the loss of their parents it fell largely upon the older youth of Argo to mentor the younger children, and after a time they began to reject the teachings of the few remaining Elders, choosing to indulge in idle recreation rather than concern themselves with science and history. Tir-El sighed bitterly. He had done his best to reach them, but it had not been enough. He had failed, and very soon Argo would join in Krypton's fate. The last remnants of their once-great civilization would vanish as if it had never been.

"No!" He suddenly spoke aloud, startled by the sharpness of his own voice. No. Even if only one of them could be saved, so too could the memory of Krypton.

-----

"I'm going, Uncle."

The ship had been made ready, and Kara was now determined to speak with her friends. The promise of secrecy had managed to keep her in the workshop where it was safe, but now Tir-El was left with no other choice. He took her aside and summoned all the resolve that he had left.

"Kara, I must forbid you from going," he told her, his voice firm. "I know you wish to help those dear to you, but if any others find out what we are doing, the news will spread like a disease through the city. They will all come here, first begging to be rescued, and then demanding it. Their desperation will make them dangerous, Kara, and I fear that they may destroy us and the ship if this happens. I am sorry, but you must stay here. The risk is too great. We must leave soon, and secrecy is our only hope now."

For Tir-El, to look into Kara's trusting blue eyes and tell her that she must abandon her friends was the hardest task he had ever faced. She had already lost so much; her parents, her world, and now she was losing everything else she had ever known. She shrank back from him, seeming horrified.

"This was what you intended all along? To only save ourselves?" She blinked back her tears with an expression of growing anger. "I can't believe you'd be so selfish! Would you have left me behind too if I'd disagreed with you?"

"Kara! You know that is not the reason. It is simply too late now. I would save all of them if I could, but not if it meant risking you!" Tir-El paused, suddenly feeling very old and tired. "On the day they died," he continued softly, "I promised your parents that I would look after you. I will not break that promise now."

Her expression seemed to lighten, but her jaw remained set. "My friends are the closest thing to a family that I've ever had. If surviving means leaving them behind, I would rather stay here." With that, she moved for the door.

"Kara…" He blocked her path and reached out to her, but she pulled away from him sharply. She stood and steadfastly met his gaze, her eyes glittering with tears. He saw then that if he stopped her, she would be lost to him no matter what happened.

"You know what is at stake," he said, looking searchingly at her face. "If we fail, we will lose much more than just our lives."

"I know, Uncle."

He sighed and bent to kiss her forehead. Despite what her decision might cost them, he had never been prouder of her.

"Then go, if you must. You are too much like your parents. You carry both their spirits with you."

"Thank you," she hugged him gently. "I'll be careful."

"I know you will. Go quickly."

Tir-El watched as she departed, then walked to the launching chamber where the ship rested in its berth. He stopped to regard it for a moment, letting his hand run absently over its smooth alloy hull as a wry smile suddenly appeared on his face.

"So it has come to this. Compassion above vanity," he said quietly. "As it should be. If our legacy must end here, then at least it shall be a noble end."

-----

Kara made her way through the corridored streets of the City, doing her best to ignore the decay that had spread in her absence. The normally spotless walkways were now lined with refuse and many of the lighting panels had either dimmed or gone dark. She made her way carefully to the plaza, hoping only that she would be able to locate her friends and return without trouble. Her life with her uncle in the empty lower sections of the City had often been a lonely one, but now she found herself being bitterly thankful for that fact. Anoa, Rel, and Teve were her only close friends. The ship would be just large enough to carry them.

She emerged cautiously into the vast domed chamber of the City's main square. Once, in the days of Krypton, thousands of people had gathered there to look out upon the marvels of the universe. Afterward it had served as a gathering place for the young citizens of Argo, the dome shut to obscure the whirling stars. But now yet another change had occurred. The quiet murmur of friendly voices that Kara remembered had given way to raucous laughter and the sounds of breaking crystal. People moved about shouting and laughing at each other drunkenly, some fighting, some embracing. The slender crystal pillars that had once marked stellar delineations were now cracked and smudged with crude markings, and some had even been pulled down. Argo had become something that Kara barely recognized.

She moved slowly through the chaos, her eyes scanning the crowd for the faces of her friends. Kara found herself hoping that she wouldn't see them there. In the center of the square a group of young men had gathered a pile of furnishings and were busy smashing them apart like it was some kind of game. One called out for her to join them, but she pretended not to hear and hurried past. Suddenly the lights across the square dimmed and went out, and Kara stumbled and nearly fell as the ground seemed to lurch sickeningly beneath her feet. The echoing laughter immediately changed to cries of fear and alarm. Kara broke into a run as the ground steadied and the lights slowly returned. The gravity generators were already failing. There was less time left than her uncle had thought.

Leaving the square behind, she came into the living areas and made for the homes of Anoa and Rel. Both were dark and empty, and no one she encountered knew where they had gone. Growing almost frantic, Kara ran to Teve's quarters. When the chime failed to activate she pounded on the door with her fist. After a few moments of dreadful uncertainty, it opened. Teve stood within, her black hair frazzled and unkempt. There was an ugly cut on her forehead.

"Somebody threw a piece of crystal," she explained, smiling weakly. "Things are getting crazy out there."

"You have to come with me," Kara said quickly, almost out of breath. "Where are Rel and Anoa?"

Teve's smile faded into a nervous frown. "They've been out breaking. I tried talking to them but they're acting like all the rest. They don't care about anything anymore. Where have you been? I heard your uncle was thrown out of the Council."

"That doesn't matter now." Kara looked around and leaned in close. "We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Teve repeated, looking confused.

"The City."

Teve blinked a few times, and then her eyes went wide as she finally understood. Kara put a finger to her lips.

"How?" Teve whispered.

"That's not important. Just get your things and come with me. There isn't much time."

Teve hurried to gather her essentials while Kara stood watch at the door. Suddenly the ground heaved again, much more violently than before. Kara was able to brace herself in the doorway, but to her dismay Teve was thrown upward into the ceiling. The girl screamed and fell back to the floor, her fall broken somewhat by a loose cushion. Kara rushed to her, hearing many more frightened screams from the corridors outside. Teve seemed quite shaken but she could still walk.

"Forget your stuff. We have to go before it gets worse!" Kara grabbed Teve by the arm, and together they slipped out the door and into the City.

-----

Tir-El stood grimly at his console. The final collapse was happening more quickly than he had expected. In less than an hour the energy core would reach a critical point. At best it would merely be extinguished, leaving Argo to become a cold and silent tomb drifting in space. At worst it would collapse in upon itself and create a violent reaction that would tear the City apart. But the ship was ready. He had set the navigation to automatic, with its target being a distant blue planet that he and his brother Zor-El had been fond of observing as children. It was a primitive world, but it would serve them well. All that was left now was to wait for Kara's return. And hope.

-----

Argo had fallen into chaos. The people had turned against the city as it failed them, and now they were beginning to turn on each other. Angry voices echoed around Kara and Teve as they ran from corridor to corridor. Then they reached the square, and the two girls stopped short and looked on in horror as they saw a young man being savagely beaten. A crowd had gathered around him and were pushing him back and forth as people kicked and struck him with pieces of broken furniture. Kara stared at his battered and bloody face, unable to look away. The sheer brutality of it was stunning. She stood there frozen until she felt Teve pulling at her arm.

"We have to go!" Teve hissed into her ear. "They're turning into animals!"

Kara blinked and stumbled away as she realized that her friend was right. They couldn't stay here any longer. The thought of abandoning Rel and Anoa made her feel sick, but time had run out. She could still hear the words of her uncle clearly in her mind. If we fail, we will lose much more than just our lives.

She clutched Teve's arm as they started running again. There was a low rumble in the ground beneath their feet now, like a slight but constant earthquake. As they ran, the girls could hear the pillars around them humming and chiming with the vibrations. It was eerily beautiful despite the terror of the moment, and the ringing music of the crystal mixed with the screams of hurt and frightened people was something that Kara would never forget.

After what seemed like an eternity they reached the lower dome and her uncle's workshop. He greeted them with an expression of great relief.

"Come! We must leave at once!" He took the two girls by the shoulders and guided them toward the launching area. They had barely left the workshop when a sharp cry came from behind them. Kara looked back to see that the door to the upper city had been opened. Several people were rushing in, and foremost among them was the chairman. All were dirty, angry, and afraid. Her uncle pushed her into a run.

"Stop!" The chairman screamed after them. "This is your doing, Tir-El! You have brought this upon us!" His voice was thin and wild with unbalanced rage. As she ran, Kara could hear their voices following close behind. She urged Teve to run faster, but the shaken girl seemed nearly exhausted. They reached the launching chamber only a few steps ahead of their pursuers. Her uncle hastily shut the door, but the mob wedged bits of furniture and even their own bodies into the door's path to prevent it from closing. The three turned toward the gleaming ship and ran once more. Safety was only a few steps distant when Teve suddenly stumbled and fell. Kara stopped, the thought of leaving her friend never entering into her mind. Then the mob came rushing in.

"Kara!" It seemed that the voices of Teve and her uncle blended together as they both cried out at the same instant. Kara was reaching out for Teve's hand when she felt herself grabbed from behind. Her uncle spun her around and pushed her violently forward, sending Kara sprawling into the hanger. She looked back just as one of the men struck her uncle from behind, causing him to fall to one knee. Filled with a sudden rush of anger, Kara struggled to her feet and prepared to go to his aid. But before she could, her uncle lifted his crystal key and slammed it down against the floor, shattering it. The transparent hangar wall swiftly lowered into place, trapping Kara inside with the ship.

She screamed and pounded on the door, feeling as if her heart were being torn from her chest. He met her eyes and spoke. Though no sound carried through the transparency, she was certain what he had said.

Forgive me.

Kara watched helplessly as he was dragged to his feet. The chairman shouted at him, his face twisted into a grotesque mask. Her uncle was struck again, and again. He was beaten to the ground and she quickly lost sight of him among the flailing limbs of the mob. She recoiled from the door. Scarcely aware of her surroundings, she turned and stumbled aboard the ship. The hatch closed silently behind her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a blinking panel which marked the countdown to launch. Her mind refused to acknowledge it. Outside, the mob had realized they'd lost their only chance for escape and were tearing her uncle apart. Kara fell numbly into a seat, nearly blinded by the tears streaming down her face.

There was a barely perceptible hum as an energy harness formed around her, and then the ship launched itself into space. She watched as Argo quickly receded, feeling numb as she saw her home from outside for the first time. It had almost faded completely into the distance when it was obscured by sudden flicker of light. She turned away, not wanting to watch it die. Then grief hit her in full force, and the universe went dark.