Chez Su, Nashville TN, EUA
O último filho de Krypton voa United
Estou novamente em Nashville, terra da música country, para colaborar com a Su, que após mudar de pais e universidade é agora professora na Vanderbilt. Apesar do frio, estou conseguindo me locomover bem de bicicleta para todo canto, e já estou escolado nas minúcias do preparo do churrasco de porco defumado típico local. Mas para que tudo isto acontecesse, eu primeiro precisava chegar.
Talvez de forma inédita, não cheguei atrasado no aeroporto, e não tive que correr, me locomover por gambiarras multimodais, enfrentar dificuldades de última hora ou recorrer a improvisos para embarcar; não levantei suspeitas em policiais da alfândega nem precisei fazer manutenção de guerrilha na minha bicicleta. Fontes confiáveis me informam que isto é considerado normal nos deslocamentos aéreos da maior parte da humanidade. Tal exotismo me espanta...
O único contratempo foi o não funcionamento do sistema de entretenimento a bordo. O que me deixou mais tempo que o usual para contemplar o aviso luminoso indicando a disponibilidade do banheiro pela presença ou ausência da cruz vermelha sobre um curioso objeto entre duas figuras humanas. Nas laterais, indicações pictóricas de 'proibido fumar', permanentemente acesa, e 'apertem os cintos', ligada intermitentemente.
Inspirado pelo aviso, escrevi o conto que segue (em inglês).
"Are you absolutely sure? Perhaps the quakes will stop after enough energy is released? "
"You revised my calculations yourself, my love. Krypton will cease to be, and soon"
"I know it in my mind; but the mother in me still can't accept it"
"Lara, I understand. Myself, I have felt like two different men barely on speaking terms ever since I found out"
A low-frequency rumble can be heard. At a distance, sirens wail.
"It is time, Jor-El"
"It is. The capsule is ready. But I've been dreading this moment"
"Yes, dreadful. But he needs us, one last time"
The ground shakes heavily and shifts, and sharp rending sounds fill the air as the crust of a dying planet starts to crack.
"Goodbye my son. Their Sun will make you as a God to them..."
"No time for eloquence Jor-El. We will know what God-like feels soon enough, in this chamber you built"
"It was the only way to power the capsule"
"Indeed. But Krypton could have lived for while longer without it"
"To what end? We are a dying people; that could not be changed. You know how much we tried"
"Be it as it may, let's do it now or the sacrifice will be for nought. How do I generate these 'heat rays' you describe? Just concentrate my mind?"
"I believe so. It should feel natural, like opening one's eyes"
Weakly at first, then intensely, red light pulses from the eyes of Jor-El and Lara while they look upon their son for the last time through vaporizing tears. The chamber hums and glows a faint yellow as the energy output of an entire continent is routed though it. A power relay coupling fails, and the yellow dims briefly before a backup comes online. Insulating ceramics crackle and smoke. Hurried footstep are heard from outside, followed by urgents shouts and the sound of something heavy and metallic hitting an unyielding bulkhead. Suddenly, bolts of liquid fire emerge from two sets of eyes, crossing in the capsule sitting on a pedestal between them. The unnatural matter of the capsule's thin transparent shell absorbs the energy and transmutes it, as space-time starts to shift and bend. Man, woman and capsule are now dark outlines in a sea of red, and the chamber's power surges and fails for one last time.
In his crib, Kal-El smiles and gurgles, contently.
