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Kal closed the book and set it down on his desk as he took a small bite of his pastry from morning meal. The English language, he decided, had to be the worst language he’d ever tried to learn. And that included ancient Kandorian, which his father had insisted he become familiar with despite the fact that it had not been used in thousands of years. But English made even less sense. Although they seemed to have a rule for everything, every rule had at least one, if not several, exceptions, none of which followed any notable pattern. And they had multiple words for a single object. For example, a floor covering could be called “carpet” or “rug” or “mat” or “runner.” But “runner” could also be used to describe someone who ran, for fun or to get away from a dangerous or disturbing situation. To make matters even worse, some words could have opposing meanings. He had just finished reading that the verb “to buckle” could mean either to fasten something together or to warp or break under a weight.

A week had already passed since his father had given him his instructions, and Kal felt like he was no closer to being able to speak or understand English than when he had started learning.

And he was tired. His father had insisted he stay up late every night, reading or studying or working with him in the laboratory. And since her return from her travels several days prior, his mother had also given Kal extra tasks. They had sat together and made a list of the items Kal should pack for his journey, and she had listened to him speak to her in English, gently encouraging him as he stumbled over the words. She had also spent several hours with him just the night before, reading to him in the library—stories from books on little-known aspects of Kryptonian culture and history, as though she needed him to remember.

Yet despite all of this extra work, Kal was still required to meet with Drek and Jin-Dal for morning teachings and exercise every day. Today, in fact, he had assessments in all subjects—mathematics, science, writing, and history—followed by physical tests of running, strength, stamina, and fighting technique. He would be busy all day, which was why he had gotten up earlier than usual to study English.

“My name is Kal-El from Krypton,” he tested out loud. “I am…sixteen…years old, and I would like to pet your cat.”

He did not know what a “cat” was—some type of small domesticated animal, according to the Lost Languages book—and the words felt so foreign to his ears. It was difficult not to cringe as he spoke. The book provided pronunciation guides for the sounds and letters, translating into Kryptonian equivalents, but Kal felt completely lost. He could speak thirteen languages—Kandorian, Urrikan, and Surrusian, which were the three languages most commonly used by the Kryptonian people, as well as ancient Kandorian and nine other languages he had learned through his extensive education in preparation to lead his people. However, this was the first language he had been made to learn completely on his own, without anyone to help him practice.

He stood up and looked around his quarters.

“I am standing in my…bedroom,” he stumbled, pursing his lips to try to find the right word. He turned to his left, where the soft red light of the morning sun filtered through the large window taking up most of one wall. “It is morning…or evening…?” He frowned, moved back to his desk, and flipped through a few pages of the book, his fingers landing on the page describing time of day on Earth. “Morning,” he declared confidently. “It is morning. The sun is rising…”

He stared out at the landscape in the distance. Their sun, a red dwarf star, was only about half the size of Earth’s sun, he had learned. Yet, as it rose into the sky over the distant horizon dotted with ice-covered mountains, it looked to him as huge and majestic as ever, bathing the land in a familiar reddish glow. His eyes closed as he imagined what a sunrise on Earth might look like, how the sunlight would heat his skin, and whether the climate would be warmer or colder than that of Krypton.

“I have many tasks to complete today,” he continued out loud, trying to hear the sounds as he spoke. “Soon it will be…it will be…” He sighed with frustration. What was midday meal called? He could not seem to remember. Again, he flipped through the book on his desk and nodded as he landed on the correct page. “Breakfast,” “lunch,” and “dinner” were the three main meals. He repeated the words in his head and then tested his voice again. “Soon it will be lunchtime, and we will eat.”

A loud knock at his door startled him, and he quickly closed the book, shoved it under another book on his desk, and cleared his throat as he hurried to open the door.

“Drek! You are early, my friend. We do not start assessments for some time still,” Kal stated, pulling his robes on over his leisurewear and following his friend into the hallway. He and Drek had been friends for as long as he could remember, and although they were similar in age, Kal stood nearly a head taller than Drek, and Drek’s light brown hair and bright green eyes further set him apart from Kal. Drek wore his own robes, also white in color, but with the light green embroidery of the House of Dal crest, a circular symbol with three lines intersecting in the center. Because his family’s status was not as high as Kal’s, the embroidery on Drek’s robes was much less intricate. Despite this, Drek stood tall and confident next to his friend, and the two started off down the corridor together.

“Father wanted us to get started early,” Drek explained. “He said this year’s assessments are more difficult, particularly in mathematics, and that he has a special challenge for us to complete during our physical tests. I trust that is acceptable to you, Kal?”

“Of course, my friend,” Kal responded easily, and the two turned left down another corridor that opened into the Great Hall.

Small groups of councilmen, scientists, and advisors sat at round tables, talking in muted tones amongst themselves while they ate morning meal and drank tea. Kal and Drek had both already eaten morning meal earlier, although they still had to pass through the Great Hall to reach the teaching quarters. As they walked straight by the rows of tables, men stood, bowed their heads, and knelt to acknowledge their future Supreme Ruler. Kal continued walking briskly, maintaining his neutral expression to mask his discomfort. He absently wondered if he would ever get used to people bowing before him. And then, with great unease, he realized he would not have to get used to this, because in only approximately two more weeks, he would be on a small spaceship, jumping through hyperspace at many times the speed of light, on his way toward Earth. He stumbled, and Drek reached out to grasp his arm.

“Kal, my friend, are you feeling well this morning?” Drek’s voice held a touch of concern, but Kal quickly brushed it off.

“Yes, my friend, I apologize. I must have tripped.”

And they continued out of the Great Hall, turned right, and entered into the teaching quarters to take their assessments, Kal’s mind still whirring with the realization that he had only a short time left here.



Despite Drek’s warning that the assessments were to be more difficult this year, Kal sped through his in record time, completing all four subjects before midday meal. He then hurried off to the Great Hall to eat while waiting for Drek to finish.

Sitting by himself at a small table in the corner of the room and picking uninterestedly at his simple meal of oatmeal and vegetables, Kal took the time to watch men come and go around him. Most of the men wore their nicest white robes while here in the Great Hall. Those in gray or light brown were of lower status, most often aides accompanying their superiors, while those in green were slaves. Kal lowered his eyes to his food. He’d never been comfortable with the thought of men owning other men or women. His family did not own slaves or concubines, although his father had considered buying a slave one time. His mother, thankfully, had convinced him to reconsider. But many of the noble families did own slaves, and the ruling family in particular, currently the House of Zod, set to switch to the House of El on Kal’s twentieth birthday, had always found it necessary to own many slaves. Indeed, the slaves owned by the ruling house were responsible for the important work of food production and clothing manufacturing, among other tasks.

Kal frowned as he took a small bite of the brownish vegetable in his bowl, its slippery texture familiar and yet unappetizing at the same time. He had already been working with his preparatory advisors and a few current Council members on a plan to shift to paid labor in all sectors, including agriculture and textiles. Certainly, he believed, the ruling family was wealthy enough to not need slave labor. And, working with his advisors, he had come up with a solid plan to phase out slave labor all together over a ten-year period.

But now, none of that mattered anymore. Krypton would be gone. Everyone would be dead. Everyone except him.

Startling him out of his dark thoughts, Drek sat heavily in the chair opposite his with a weak sigh. His tray contained food items similar to Kal’s—a bowl of oatmeal topped with vegetables, a small pastry, and a mug of hot tea. Drek dug hungrily into the oatmeal.

“You finished your assessments too quickly, my friend,” Drek said after he swallowed a mouthful and washed it down with a sip of tea. “Father is concerned that your marks will be low.”

Kal pushed away his own tray, his food only half eaten, and casually surveyed the room again. No women. There were no women or children. The women and children, he knew, ate in a separate room. But on Earth, he had learned, men and women and children could eat together, attend teachings and exercise together, and spend leisure time together. Women were also important members of society, including scientists and leaders. He blinked, trying to imagine the room half filled with women or girls his own age, and he unconsciously tilted his head a bit as he wondered how that might change things.

“Kal, did you hear me? My father said—”

“Your father is wrong, Drek,” Kal interjected, his tone unusually taut. “The assessments were no more difficult than last year, when I received top marks. And I completed them quickly because I have more important things to do today. When can we begin physical tests? I would like to start as soon as possible.”

Kal stood, leaving his tray at his table for someone to clean, as was customary. He then started toward the exercise wing, suddenly needing to be anywhere but near his friend. He would start early, finish his physical assessments, and then head back to his room to study more.

“I am running out of time,” he said in a low voice, the foreign words sticking in his throat. “Soon, I will be gone. Soon, Krypton will be gone.” English seemed the wrong language to be speaking those words, and maybe he should not be saying them at all. But at least he knew no one else, if there had even been anyone else around, could possibly have understood him. No one else knew how to speak English, after all.

He opened the door to the exercise track where he would complete most of his physical tests that afternoon, and he straightened up taller as he scanned the empty room, feeling dreadfully alone. He wondered just how alone he would feel on his journey to the Fifth Realm, to Earth, with nothing but black space stretching out around him for billions of miles. Alone in the darkness for about two days—which was how long his father had said the trip would take. He tightened his jaw, walked to a small shelving unit along the eastern wall, and removed his robes. His black leisurewear shimmered faintly in the dim light, and its regal blue symbol, which Kal now knew oddly resembled a stylized letter ‘S’ in the English language, seemed to reflect off the white walls of the room.

Ahead of him, the track stretched out, circling around in a large oval shape. One of his tests today would be to run the equivalent of twenty-five kilometers on this track, which meant seemingly endless loops for over approximately one and a half hours. But the faster he ran, the faster he could finish. He would complete the test in record time. “And then I will study English more,” he said quietly.

A short figure appeared from the other end of the room, his white robes flowing behind him as he hurried around the outside of the track toward Kal. His sharp voice raised, the stocky blonde-haired man declared, “You are early, Young Lord Kal. I was not expecting you for some time still. Where is Drek?”

The man halted abruptly in front of Kal and knelt briefly, as was customary. Kal stood still as a statue. When the man rose again, Kal cleared his throat.

“Drek is in the Great Hall, finishing his midday meal, Jin-Dal. I wish to start my testing early. I have work to complete for my father this evening,” Kal explained tersely. He clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders.

“Very well then, my young lord. We shall start with strength testing,” Jin-Dal said. He tapped a button on a band on his wrist, and a holographic projection showing Kal’s testing itinerary and scores from the previous year flickered on in front of them. A moment later, Jin-Dal cleared his throat and motioned for Kal to follow him. “This test is just like last year’s, my young lord. You will stand underneath the weight press, and we will measure the weight you can support. The weight will increase in increments of five kilograms until you can no longer support the weight.”

They approached the rear wall of the room, and Jin-Dal again tapped the button on his wristband. The wall opened up, and a platform emerged. Kal stepped onto the platform and positioned himself in a slight lunge position, with his right leg a bit forward and his left leg a bit behind him. He then raised his arms up over his head and nodded to Jin-Dal.

“Last year, you supported one hundred seventy-five kilograms, so we will start at one hundred eighty kilograms today,” Jin-Dal explained. He input a few numbers into the holographic keyboard in front of him, and a large, round press lowered down from the ceiling, stopping as it reached Kal’s hands.

Kal settled into his lunge, pressed his palms flat against the hard surface above him, and readied himself for the weight. A second later, the press above him became heavy, and he pushed against it, easily holding up the one hundred eighty kilograms. He took a deep breath as Jin-Dal said, “Increasing by five kilograms,” and the weight bearing down on him became heavier. And the process repeated. One hundred ninety kilograms. One hundred ninety-five kilograms. Two hundred kilograms. Two hundred five kilograms. And up and up. Kal knew he’d gotten stronger over the past year, but the actual numbers seemed inordinate.

Several minutes later, he topped out at two hundred twenty-five kilograms. As he lowered his arms and stepped off the platform, Jin-Dal nodded with a touch of pride and finished inputting the results into his virtual platform.

“A respectable improvement over last year, Young Lord Kal. You have been working hard, I see,” he said.

Kal just nodded an acknowledgement as he stretched out his shoulders. He tilted his head toward the track.

“Sprinting is next and then the endurance run?” he asked.

“Yes, Kal. And then, in addition to the test of fighting technique, I have one more challenge for you and Drek today. It is a rope climbing endurance test. I have been trying to implement this as part of your assessments for years; however, the Council would not approve. I have finally convinced them to allow it.”

Jin-Dal again motioned for Kal to follow him to the other side of the room, back toward the door where Kal had entered. The two stopped at the first section of track, and a control panel materialized next to Jin-Dal.

“One lap is your sprint test,” the older man commented. A moment later, he added, “Last year, you completed one lap, equivalent to one-fifth of a kilometer, in twenty-six point three four rs. Please step onto the track.”

Kal briefly stretched his legs and then moved to stand on the short track, made of a solid material with just a tiny bit of give beneath his feet. He readied himself at a faint line on the ground, designating the approximate start line, and took a long, deep breath.

“The machine is calibrated to you. You may begin when ready.”

Kal closed his eyes a moment, settled himself into a lunge, and then launched forward, almost immediately reaching his fastest pace. He breathed hard and rapidly, his lungs burning with the need for more oxygen, but he pushed on. His long stride ate up distance around the track, and in no time, he passed across the same line where he’d started and allowed himself to slow to a jog and then a walk, his chest heaving with the effort. He felt he had surely been faster than last year. He glanced over toward Jin-Dal, who nodded absently while tapping away at the holographic keys of the control panel.

“Impressive again, Kal. You improved your time by nearly three seconds,” Jin-Dal confirmed.

Kal nodded and suddenly felt slightly dizzy. He stopped and sat on the hard ground, lowering his head into his knees while taking deep breaths.

“You are pushing yourself hard today, Young Lord Kal. Rest and have some drink before your next test.”

Kal complied, taking several minutes to rest and drink. During his short break, Drek showed up and completed his sprint test, coming in several seconds over Kal’s record time. Kal then insisted on starting his endurance test while Drek readied to complete his strength test. Once the machine was again calibrated, Kal began. One hundred twenty-five laps around the short track to complete twenty-five kilometers. Last year, he had barely finished, breaking into a walk for the last five laps to finish at one hour, forty-four minutes, thirty-seven seconds. Drek had easily beat him, finishing at one hour, thirty-nine minutes, sixteen seconds. However, Kal fully intended to finish much stronger this time.

As he ran, he cleared his mind of all negative thoughts. His lungs did not ache, and his feet did not burn. He was strong and capable and fast, and he could keep going. He would keep going. Then, he began to have to distract himself from the monotony of the constant circling around the plain room. So, he recited English words and phrases, his eyes flickering around the “room” to the “window” and looking “outside.” He thought, “My friend will not run faster than I,” as he increased his pace even more. After fifty laps or so, Drek joined him, and Kal found himself pushing himself even harder to keep up. Eventually, his pace surpassed Drek’s, despite the fact that Kal had been running for much longer, and he heard his friend huff in protest as Kal pulled away. “I am Kal-El from Krypton. This is my spaceship. I have traveled from far away. I would like to pet your cat.” He wondered if he would encounter a “cat” when he arrived on Earth. He wondered what a “cat” would look like. Maybe it would have scales or spikes, like the wild dolomers he had seen with his mother when they traveled last year. “I am Kal-El from Krypton. This is my spaceship. I have traveled from far away. I would like to pet your cat.”

“Young Lord Kal, you can stop now. Your test was completed three laps ago.”

Jin-Dal’s voice broke through into Kal’s thoughts, and he sucked in a long breath as he slowed, moved to the outer edge of the track, and stopped. His heart pounded in his chest, and he collapsed onto his back on the hard ground, breathing deeply and fast. His eyes closed as he groaned.

“You are pushing hard, my young lord,” Jin-Dal repeated.

“Did I beat my time from last year?”

That was all he wanted to know. He had to know. Because he had to beat everything from last year. For some reason, he had decided there was nothing more important.

“Young Lord Kal, you beat our best time on record. One hour, twenty-four minutes, thirty-one seconds. You are pushing hard.”

“Good.”

And he lay panting on the ground for many minutes until his heart slowed to a normal rate and his breathing was no longer labored. Then, he sat up, stood, and turned to Jin-Dal, who watched Drek continue to run laps around the track.

“I am ready for the rope climbing test and fighting technique, Jin-Dal,” Kal said, his voice strong and steady. In his mind, he tried out his English, but he quickly realized he did not know the words for “rope climbing test” or “fighting technique.” He shook his head slightly, but then assumed a more formal position with his shoulders square and his hands clasped behind his back.

Jin-Dal turned to Kal and stood staring at him for several seconds as though appraising whether Kal was actually ready for his next test. Kal knew that typically he would be required to take a longer break after the endurance test. However, he felt impatient and ready to go.

Finally, Jin-Dal glanced at Drek, who still had nearly thirty laps left to complete, and motioned for Kal to follow him back to the platform where he had performed the strength test hours ago. This time, when Jin-Dal input his codes into the control panel, a square platform emerged, along with a transparent holographic grid running around the entire platform. Kal stepped up onto the platform and positioned himself at the ready for the fighting technique sequence.

“This test is just as you have performed it in the past, Young Lord Kal. You will present your skills in hand-to-hand fighting technique, and the system will assess your speed, the correctness of your skill, and the strength of your punches and kicks. As usual, please perform all of your skills in the traditional sequence, starting with blocks and punches and ending with kicks. Remember that the system assesses the flow and refinement of your movement as well.” Jin-Dal paused and looked again at his data on the hologram. “There is much room for improvement over last year’s results. You scored a seven point nine out of ten possible. Begin when ready, Young Lord Kal.”

Kal nodded, took a deep breath to focus himself, and started his routine, as he’d practiced hundreds of times now. Outward block, upper block, lower block, inward block, closed hand block, rising block. Pause. Spinning backfist punch, cross punch, lunge punch, reverse lunge punch, straight punch, low jab, high jab, rising punch. Pause. Front kick, side kick, reverse side kick, pivot kick, back kick, inner crescent kick, outer crescent kick, double leg jump kick, flying side kick. Pause. Bow.

Kal’s chest again heaved with his exertion, but he felt sure he had done well. He turned to Jin-Dal, who watched the system process Kal’s performance. A moment later, Jin-Dal nodded at Kal.

“Nine point four. Excellent form, my young lord. You have improved much since last year.”

“It is because of your superior teaching, Master Jin-Dal,” Kal addressed formally. Again, he attempted to translate his words into English as he followed Jin-Dal to the opposite wall in the exercise room. And again, he realized he did not know the English words for “superior” or “teaching.” He added them to the growing list of words he needed to look up when he arrived back at his quarters later.

They stopped at a long, thick white rope that hung from the ceiling. Kal had climbed the rope many times as part of exercise. However, he had never been tested on his rope climbing ability. He stood straight and square, his hands clasped behind his back, and listened carefully as Jin-Dal explained the rope climbing endurance test.

“The rope climbing test has two measures: the number of climbs up and down and the average speed for the first three climbs up and down. For a climb to count, you cannot use your legs to assist you. The legs must be held out in a piked or seated position and must not fall to more than forty-five degrees below horizontal, or the test is considered complete. You must start seated on the ground here and climb the six meters to the black line and then back down to this red line.” Jin-Dal indicated to the two colored marks—the black one near the top of the rope and the red one near the bottom. “When you can no longer continue, the test is complete. Do you understand the rules for this test, my young lord?”

“Yessir,” Kal answered. He moved to sit below the rope and grasped the rope strongly with both hands, one up slightly higher than the other. He was vaguely aware of Drek staggering toward them after finishing his endurance run; however, he focused on his current task. He had no reference for what might be good marks on this test, but he told himself he would not stop until he had climbed up and down the rope at least five times. His eyes flew open. “Rope!” he exclaimed as the word came to him.

“I apologize, my young lord. I do not understand,” Jin-Dal said, his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

Kal mentally scolded himself and returned his face to a concentrated but neutral expression.

“It is nothing, Master Jin-Dal. Please, let us continue,” Kal replied calmly, and he again readied himself for the test. At least five times up and down, he thought, finding the English words.

“The system is calibrated and ready for you to start, Young Lord Kal.”

I am starting, Kal told himself in English. And then, he heaved himself up off the ground, holding his legs up at horizontal, and commenced his climb.