“No, silly,” Prometheus laughed. “It’s just decoration. For fun.”
Kalibak reddened and gave a nervous smile. If anyone else had called him silly, he would have given an angry roar and reached for his feared weapon, the Beta-Club. But somehow, the boy calling him so actually made him feel… good.
“I did not have a lot of experience with fun as a child,” Kalibak said, handing the book back to him.
“Well, Christmas is supposed to be the most fun time of all,” Prometheus said. “We have to decorate so Santa will come to visit.”
“Santa Claus?” Kalibak asked.
“He brings toys and presents to all the boys and girls of the world,” Prometheus said, flipping the page to an image of the jolly old elf.
“Why?” Kalibak asked.
“For fun!” Prometheus laughed, rolling his eyes. “But only to children who are good and nice.”
“Then that would explain why he has never been here,” Kalibak said with a shudder. “Granny Goodness punishes nice behavior. She says it is weak. She wants all her students to be as mean and vicious as possible. I… I am glad that our father did not give you to her.”
“Wow,” Prometheus said with wide eyes. “Me, too.” He turned his face back to the picture and said, “I’ve been extra-good this year, so we’ve got to make this place look extra-festive so Santa will deliver lots of toys.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “I could share them with Granny’s students…”
“Granny wouldn’t like it,” Kalibak said in a serious tone. His face broke out in a smile at the thought of his former trainer’s anger. “No, I don’t think she would like that very much at all.”
Kalibak was still smiling when he left his younger brother’s quarters. His expression quickly changed at the sight of his sister, Pandora. Like Prometheus, she had been created in a lab when Darkseid abducted Supergirl and Power Girl to use their genetic material to spawn new progeny. Unlike Prometheus, she had been artificially aged to adulthood. She had briefly operated as an Earth-One version of her mother under the name of Powergirl until her father’s genes had kicked in. She quickly changed from good to evil, and she even mutated to resemble him, albeit a feminized, far more attractive version with skin and hair that had the appearance of polished grey marble. She even wore a uniform that resembled the blue tunic favored by Darkseid. She had become in every sense of the word her father’s daughter. (*) Oh, how he hated her.
[(*) Editor's note: See Superman: The Apokolips Factor, Showcase: Powergirl: Crisis on Rokyn, and Superman Family: The Legacy.]
“Spending some quality time with the apple of our father’s eye?” she said haughtily.
“As if that is any business of yours,” Kalibak grumbled.
“I suppose it is wise of you to cozy up to him now, while he is young and impressionable,” Pandora said. “After all, he will eventually come to rule us all one day.”
“I am eldest,” Kalibak said. “Therefore I am first in line.”
“Oh, Kalibak… even you know better than that,” Pandora laughed condescendingly. “Tell me, big brother, does it not bother you to see to see how that spoiled brat is doted on?” she continued, resentment creeping into her voice. “How he is getting everything you yourself were denied? Come, now, your temper is legendary. How is it you haven’t just wanted to… you know…”
“You stay away from him!” Kalibak growled.
“Or what?” Pandora said, looking both surprised and amused at his reaction.
“Don’t test me, wench,” Kalibak said. “You won’t like the results.” He stalked off angrily with Pandora’s laughter echoing behind him.
***
Granny Goodness stood before the throne of Darkseid, trying once more to make her case for the transfer of Prometheus to her care. As usual, she seemed to hit a brick wall where the boy was concerned.
“But, sire,” she pleaded. “It sets a bad precedent. All children who are to one day serve your glory are given over to Granny’s loving care.”
“Sets a bad precedent?” Darkseid said, smiling darkly. “If I am not mistaken, is it not I who establishes whether or not something is a good or bad precedent for Apokolips? Am I not Darkseid?”
“But of course, sire,” Granny Goodness quickly said. “But it has been tradition for many generations. If it were to suddenly change, there would be talk.”
“I see,” Darkseid said. “You feel I have put you in an unfair position.”
“Well, I–”
“I felt it was time for a change,” Darkseid said. “Your tender mercies might be well and good for the lowlies, but not for a son of Darkseid.”
“But I trained Kalibak–”
“Yes, Kalibak,” Darkseid said. “And what a finely tuned killing machine he turned out to be. But he is also more beast than man. That is fine for the battlefield, but not for one who might be called upon to rule someday.”
“But surely Lord Darkseid will rule until the end of all time,” Granny Goodness said, lowering her head.
“That is, of course, my intention. But I’m sure that was my father’s intent as well,” Darkseid said. “As it was his father’s before him. I can’t chance the same thing happening with Prometheus.”
“But surely my training cannot be blamed for those traits,” Granny started.
“Then what is to blame?” Darkseid said darkly, leaning forward. His red eyes crackled with energy, casting shadows across his craggy visage, which was locked in a stony grimace. “My genetics? Or perhaps Suli’s?”
“I — I–” Granny stammered. She knew very well her next word could be her last if it were the wrong one. Darkseid’s first wife had been the only person he had ever loved until Prometheus. Beautiful, loving, and kind, Suli brought out a side of him few would ever have believed existed. All thoughts of war and conquest left his mind when he was with her. Apokolips would have been a much different place had Suli lived. Queen Heggra, Darkseid’s mother, would have none of that. She ordered DeSaad to poison her lest her peaceful nature corrupt her son. Once Darkseid discovered this plot, he gave DeSaad the choice of poisoning Queen Heggra or dying along with her. If he would kill his own mother over Suli, what would he do to Granny over a perceived insult to her?
“No response?” Darkseid said, raising an eyebrow. “Then I believe this interview is concluded.”
“Y-yes, sire,” Granny said, exiting quickly as she cast frightened glances over her shoulder for the omega beam she thought would surely be arriving to vaporize her any second. To both her shock and relief, it never came.
As Granny exited one end of the large throne room, a lithe figure entered from the other end. “She’s right to be concerned,” a silky voice said.
Darkseid turned in the direction of his daughter. “I doubt Granny Goodness is very concerned about the well-being of Prometheus.”
“More like concerned for a world with Prometheus in it,” Pandora said. “As leader of the Female Furies, I speak with her regularly. She’s concerned about some of the peculiarities in his behavior. And she’s not the only one. He’s not like other children of Apokolips.”
“Of course he’s not,” Darkseid boomed. “He’s the son of Darkseid!”
“You know that’s not what I was referring to,” Pandora said, giving him a look that reminded him of his mother, Queen Heggra.
“Yes,” Darkseid sighed. “I suppose those are the genes of his mother showing through. He will change, eventually. You did.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” Pandora asked. “Despite similarities in appearance and powers, Supergirl and Power Girl were two very different people. There was a fury beneath the surface in Power Girl that just wasn’t there in the late Kara Zor-El. It might have made me more receptive.”
“He will change,” Darkseid repeated. “Apokolips… changes everyone.”
“Even if he does, that is still years away. And it is not that his behavior is merely odd. He seems to have an effect on people — even you. It now seems
very appropriate that you named him Prometheus after the bringer of light.”
“And what of your name?” Darkseid said through gritted teeth. “Pandora? The bringer of pestilence?”
Rather than be angered, she simply raised one eyebrow as if amused. It was Queen Heggra all over again. “Well, then, I guess you just have to decide which would be more fitting for Apokolips,” his daughter said before exiting the same way she entered.
The New Gods: The Angel of Apokolips, Chapter 2: Darkseid’s Plan
by Starsky Hutch 76
“How could he treat his Granny so?” Granny Goodness moaned. “After all I have done for him over oh so many years?”
“I know,” DeSaad said in a soothing voice. Since his back was facing her, she couldn’t see that he was also rolling his eyes. Her prattling drove him insane, but he knew the value in allowing her to think of him as a confidant.
“Is it right to deprive the child of Granny’s guidance?” she continued. “Who better to help the boy rid himself of his soft tendencies? Surely you’ve seen them?”
“Indeed I have,” DeSaad said, turning to face her.
The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice encouraged her to continue. “If Darkseid continues to make allowances for the boy, who knows what will happen?”
“It’s Suli all over again,” DeSaad said under his breath.
“The next thing you know, there will be gardens growing where the fire pits used to be,” Granny wailed.
“That can never be allowed to happen,” DeSaad said as he started to rummage through the drawers of his lab. “Where did I put that?” he grumbled. At last his hands ran across a corked vial, which he brought out into the light.
“Is that…?” Granny Goodness said nervously. DeSaad’s culpability in Suli’s death had been rumored for years, but no one had ever dared voice their suspicions. Even now, the official story was that she died of natural causes. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "Darkseid and Sons," The New Gods #11 (October-November, 1972).]
“Yes, it is,” DeSaad answered, drawing a gasp from her.
He turned the greenish fluid back and forth in the vial, inspecting its consistency. Even after all these years, it appeared just as potent — completely deadly and completely undetectable.
Assassinating Suli had destroyed his friendship with Darkseid. After that, he had been but another pawn, the same as everyone else, to be manipulated in the great game of chess Darkseid was playing with the universe as the prize. But even without Queen Heggra’s orders, he would have done it. Such an act of apparent betrayal had been necessary to keep Darkseid on track to assume his destiny. At least her command had allowed him to barter for his life once he was discovered.
This, too, would hurt Darkseid and possibly cost DeSaad his life, but it was equally necessary. Serving a higher purpose was never easy. But would the poison even work on the boy? “Perhaps a nice strain of kryptonite would do the trick,” he mused to himself.
***
Darkseid walked toward the quarters of Prometheus with his jaw set grimly. Pandora’s words ate at him. So the entire court thought he was too soft on the boy, did they? Who were they to judge Darkseid? They wanted to see him be harder? So be it! Then, perhaps, they would learn to mind their own business.
He let out a sigh. The trouble was they had been minding their own business. They had not dared voice their concerns with him lest they face his wrath.
One of the benefits of having such a succubus for a daughter was that she could manipulate others into confiding in her. It allowed him to be privy to information where hidden cameras and listening devices simply could not reach.
Darkseid entered the doorway and grimaced as he found himself surrounded by Christmas décor. Suli had always loved this time of year. That was probably why he now despised it. Overwhelmed, he sank heavily into a nearby chair. His eyes scanned over the colorful decorations, inspiring a feeling of unease.
“Daddy!” Prometheus exclaimed, seeing his father sitting in the chair. The boy ran across the room and flipped into his lap.
A thin smile crossed Darkseid’s face. Considering the terror his name inspired across the galaxy, what would his countless enemies think of what the boy just did? In some ways, the child’s innocence protected him.
“What have you done here?” Darkseid asked, gesturing to the decorations with a nod.
“I decorated for Christmas,” Prometheus said, “so Santa will come.”
“How did you find out about Santa Claus?” Darkseid asked.
“From the books,” Prometheus said, pointing to his activity table.
“Ah, the books,” Darkseid said. He had ordered children’s books to be brought in from Earth, since Apokolips was bereft of any forms of children’s entertainment. He hadn’t considered the fact that they might expose him to earthly ideas — and earthly values. He put an arm around the boy and pulled him to him.
“I hope I get lots of presents,” the boy said. “I’ve been extra-good.”
“I know you have,” Darkseid said grimly.
“I hope he can get in,” Prometheus said. “We don’t have any chimneys on Apokolips. We’ve got lots of smokestacks, though.”
“That we do,” Darkseid said, looking down at the boy. He was so innocent, so pure. It amazed him how much all the bitterness and rage seemed to go away just by spending time with him.
The child’s demeanor reminded him so much of Suli, despite the fact that he looked nothing like her. Her eyes were dark where his were blue, her skin was pale where his was pink, and her hair was black and straight where his was blonde and wavy, especially that blasted unruly spit curl. He reached over with his other hand and tried unsuccessfully to gently brush it back.
That spit curl. No wonder he inspired people, he thought, looking at the boy as if he were seeing him for the first time. Aside from the blond hair, Prometheus more closely resembled his mother’s cousin than her. Darkseid found himself pondering the idea of another Superman one day ruling Apokolips.
Pandora’s words came back to him, that he would have to decide which sort of ruler would be most fitting for their world — Apokolips, the world that had deprived him of Suli. If he had ever cared about this planet, that had died with her, along with his ability to care about anyone or anything. And no one could take from him, or hurt him in that way, ever again. Or so he had thought.
Now, despite all his power, it was happening again. He could not allow such a thing. He would not allow it.
“Daddy, you’re hugging me too hard. You’re crushing me…”
Darkseid looked down at his son. “I… am sorry, my child,” he said, lightening his grip. He looked around once more at the colorful decorations with which the child had decorated the room, and a plan began to form. “Tell me, my son. Have you given Santa your list yet?
***
“I have finished my list, Daddy,” Prometheus said, walking into Darkseid’s throne room. He was holding a piece of paper rolled into a scroll and tied with a ribbon. They were the only two people in the room.
Darkseid rose from his throne to greet the boy. “Very good, my son,” he said, smiling wistfully. “Now we simply have to deliver it to him.”
“I can’t wait to meet him!” Prometheus said excitedly.
A boom tube opened in the middle of the large room. “He’s not as fat as in the pictures,” Prometheus said, peering at the unsuspecting figure at the other end.
“Well, Earth is going through something of a fitness fad,” Darkseid said. “Now take him your list.”
The boy scampered quickly through the boom tube. In his excitement, he barely noticed as the tube closed behind him.
“How could you?” Darkseid heard a voice boom from behind him. He turned and was startled to see his firstborn, Kalibak, staring at him with accusing eyes. “How could you send him away?!”
“It is for the best,” Darkseid said. “Our love for him made us weak.”
“No, it did
n’t!” Kalibak said in a choked voice.
“You overstep yourself. Do not question me. I will not warn you again.”
Kalibak let out an anguished cry. Raising his Beta-Club over his head, he charged forward, much to the shock of his father.
“You dare? You dare?!” Darkseid exclaimed in outrage. Energy crackled from his eyes, and the omega beams shot forth, intercepting Kalibak and vaporizing him mid-charge. He let out a sigh as he stared at the smoking, charred mark upon the floor. He would, of course bring him back shortly. He was, after all, the only thing he had left of Suli.
Darkseid backed up to the dais where his throne sat. Stepping back up the stairs, he slumped heavily into the large stone chair, alone once more.
***
Prometheus scampered quickly through the boom tube toward the white-bearded figure at the other side. “It’s him! It’s really him!”
Izaya found himself nearly stunned beyond words. Of all the things he would have expected to see coming out of a boom tube at him, a smiling child would be the last.
The boy handed him a scroll, which he unrolled and read. This boy is my son, the message read. Treat him well, and raise him as if he were your own. No trade will be necessary this time. It was signed by Darkseid.
Izaya stared down at the boy. “What is your name, lad?” he asked.
“Prometheus, sir,” the boy said, looking up at him with wide eyes that were as deep and as blue as any ocean. This was a son of Darkseid? There was no trace of anger, hate, resentment, or malice that one might have expected of a son of Apokolips. Even Orion, despite his heroic qualities, had been his father’s son. Clearly the boy favored his mother, whomever she might be.
“Are you really Santa Claus?” the boy asked.
“Santa Claus?” Izaya said, his face breaking into a friendly grin. He knelt down in front of the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tell me, Prometheus, if I were, what would it be that you want for Christmas most of all?”
The New Gods: The Angel of Apokolips, Epilogue: A Christmas Miracle
by Starsky Hutch 76
Christmas Eve was just another night to the children lying in their dungeon cells beneath Granny Goodness’ orphanage. They were tired and weary from their daily dose of suffering, which Granny Goodness referred to as care.