Lover

by Valerie J. Long

  —Induce fighting trance?—

  What’s that?

  Hmm.

  Perhaps it wasn’t entirely over yet. But with so many enemies I couldn’t spare them all—there would be casualties.

  I had an idea.

  If a micro fusion reactor’s envelope field fails, there needn’t always be an explosion—to that end, you’d have to block all safety mechanisms together. Normally, with any defect, the plasma injection is stopped first. But when the interruption comes as a surprise, when a tiny portion of plasma is left over in the reaction chamber, then its energy must go somewhere—then the cold fusion suddenly becomes a hot one. There’s nothing left of the reactor, and the immediate surroundings become quite sunny—that is, as warm as inside the sun, a few thousand degrees. Woe betide them standing next to it!

  Woe betide the one wearing such a reactor on his back.

  Fine—there was only one catch to this idea. I had to get close to the reactor to trigger the defect. That meant, I had to go into the hail of bullets. I had to adapt to the whistling bullets and dance through between them. Could I do that?

  Would I do that?

  Induce fighting trance.

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-One

  It was like a different world. Oh yes, I felt the shooters’ and their guns’ rhythm, captured the pattern with which they directed the stream of their projectiles.

  I jumped out from my cover and into the literal, plasma-fed heat of battle, dived through under a volley of steely death, raised one leg to let a ricochet pass, smiled at a passing ball of plasma, and then dashed forward again, covering the distance to my victim in one leap.

  I didn’t have to see the camouflaged suits, didn’t have to study the stir of air from their breath and movement consciously. No, all my senses captured the surroundings and channeled their findings into my Analogy, which created a three-dimensional image of the situation in my head. I acted only by this image. Had I focused on the perception of my wildly rolling eyes, I’d have lost my balance.

  Did I really want to kill? Ultimately lose my innocence? Could I do that—taking lives?

  I had come to kill a Dragon. What was the difference from a human? Both were intelligent species. How could I assume to judge the only Dragon on Earth if I wouldn’t want to face my own kind?

  To deactivate one suit or two wouldn’t save the guard.

  The attackers were advancing, shooting down the irrigation systems, raking the guard entrenchments with their fire, forcing them behind the cover or crushing and melting their armor. The resistance faded.

  You asked for it. It’s war here.

  I was close enough, swiftly dodged my advancing enemy and caressed his backpack in passing, to then move on fast!

  His movement froze, his camouflage giving way to a dull gray. A brief, shrill whistle sounded, and his fellows let themselves drop. I jumped across one of them, tore myself down behind him, and sacrificed my camouflage in exchange for a reflecting heat shield.

  The warning whistle ceased when the envelope field failed and the fusion reactor’s plasma spilled its energy all around uncontrollably. I didn’t watch, only heard and felt the nano armor melting, its organic content fulminating, felt a wave of dangerous radiation roll over us, followed by angrily roaring, heated air that I’d better not breathe in.

  An angry roar now also sounded from where I knew the Dragon waited, barely drowned by the painful cries of scorched attackers. But neither was my first worry—the defenders had overcome their surprise and saw their chance to pick out no longer camouflaged targets.

  I was one of these targets. Before I could reactivate my camouflage, one steel ball hit my leg, another one my left side, only barely missing my kidney.

  Trance—healing!

  I jumped up—tore around, the left side away from the guard—the bleeding stopped—a thin layer of nanos closed the gap, the camouflage was whole again—a barrage in my general direction—sprint forward, doubling—the flank of the armored van ahead burst open—a scaly head poked up, roared! made the nearby vehicles shake—fastened his gaze on my position from golden slit pupils.

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Two

  He was so large! His olive-brown scaled body was surely ten meters long, and the larger part of it towered above the battlefield when he rose on his hind legs. His triangular head stared down on me from above.

  He was frightening with his long fangs, his sharp wing spikes, his saber-like claws and his nervously twitching tail spike.

  He was marvelous in his majestic pose. His signature proudly and uniquely announced I am Dragon.

  He was lonely. From his eyes, I read a deep sadness. The only Dragon on this planet, and without prospect for mates, he was guiltlessly doomed to submit to the humans who had raised him.

  He was my enemy.

  He was fast—his right arm already swung around—his wet-glistening claws raced toward me. Even if I was camouflaged—he didn’t have to see me, by my signature he could sense me as well as I could sense him.

  Ouch!

  One moment of inattentiveness, one moment of pausing—one steel ball with his name on it, coming from a guard’s linear gun, penetrated my nano armor, barely missed my spine and drove deep into my back. A wave of pain rushed through my body, a black veil covered my vision—not now, no!

  Help!

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

  My injured leg gave in, and I fell. My fighting spirit had ceased, my camouflage was fading. His right came down on me, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the sharp pain.

  Surprisingly gentle was the touch that I felt—was that already the beginning relief of death?

  The whistle of steel balls had fallen silent. It almost seemed as if there’d be no more fighting around us. A morbid curiosity for the spectacle of my execution?

  I felt lifted, sensed a strong rush of air, and heard a whipping noise. Then I was accelerated upward, in a wide arc away from the battlefield, and down again.

  My body was placed on soft ground.

  “Who are you?” I heard a deep, melodic voice. “What are you?”

  I blinked—and saw a golden Dragon eye right before my face!

  “Jo,” I automatically replied, causing a new wave of pain rushing through my body. Was his venom already working?

  “You are injured. How are you?”

  Well, I was still alive.

  Status?

  —Severe injuries for intestines and right kidney. Bone fracture and muscle injuries in the right lower leg. Blood loss could be stopped. Grazing hit at the left side, minor blood loss. Healing is urgently required.—

  Induce.

  “I’m still alive.” I only gradually realized my situation—I was in a Wyvern’s hand and talking with him. “Why actually?”

  “I have taken you from the immediate danger zone.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve called for help. I could sense it.”

  “Hum.”

  “I do not understand this statement.”

  “I’m not aware of having called for help aloud.”

  —Such a call for help was registered. Not acoustically, but via the signature.—

  Oh.

  “You have mentally called for help,” the Wyvern confirmed. “I was surprised that you could communicate this way. Before, I had been surprised that I was able to sense you but not see you, and your signal was unspecific. I had classified you as hostile until you sent.”

  My signature is unspecific? What could I send, then?

  —The basic signal can be augmented by information about gender, hierarchy and receptiveness, or about a current threat. The latter matched the call for help.—

  Oh. Do I still send it?

  —Yes.—

  Mm. No longer urgent. Then I’ll send female instead, but without receptiveness.

  “Ah,” my opposite said. “This is appropriate.”

  What hierarchy do I have? How do you determine that?


  —It corresponds with the scale color code. For human signatures there’s a standard translation into military hierarchy. Which rank do you claim?—

  I only respond to myself. Which color would that be?

  —Gold. This code is reserved for the Dragon empress and her legates.—

  She’s far away. So gold it is.

  The Dragon head shrank back. “Mistress!”

  I still felt a bit dizzy. Was it due to the sudden turn of events or due to the pain from my insufficiently healed injuries? “Uh, what? Me?”

  —This rank is superior to his.—

  “Be my teacher. Lead me. Educate me about what is right. I do no longer understand this fight since I know that you are on the other side.”

  Teacher of a Dragon? I?

  But the way he looked at me, I couldn’t deny. Or was it his aura that now called for my help? The expression of loneliness in his eyes had disappeared, and now I read hope from his gaze.

  With a Dragon who only followed the dictate of logic—did I only read into him what I’d like to see? This way or that, his mention of this fight reminded me of what I had come for. Not just to defeat the Dragon—which somehow had worked out quite differently than planned—but also to protect the emperor and his guard. According to the noise, there was still fighting at the gate.

  Status?

  —Healing is halfway completed.—

  I need freedom to move.

  —Priority changed.—

  So, now I owed the Dragon an answer.

  “This is easy. You’ve been in the hands of criminals who are just trying to unseat the rightful rulers.”

  “So I was deceived.”

  “Whatever they told you—yes. This isn’t relevant now. We have to end this fight.”

  “You are still injured.”

  “This isn’t relevant, either.”

  With determination I rose. The feel in my right leg was unpleasant, even if my nanos mostly suppressed the pain. I still carried a steel ball in my belly, which could cause further damage if I moved fast or jerkily.

  Can I assimilate it?

  —That’s energy-consuming.—

  Can I afford that?

  —No.—

  Crap. Then don’t.

  “I have to find out about the status of the battle.”

  “I will protect you, Mistress.”

  “Negative. You’re an easy target. I will go alone.” Camouflage. “The risk for me is low.”

  The Dragon examined the place where he now only could sense me. “You can teach me a lot.”

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Four

  Surprisingly, the attackers hadn’t yet managed to storm the gate. Two guards were holding their ground against the Yakuza and cultist mob.

  Five more bodies in armor suits were lying around a glassy burned spot in the asphalt. Obviously, their camouflage had failed long enough for the guards to take them out.

  Now there were only visible attackers without armor suits, who were clearly at a disadvantage against the palace elite soldiers—yet still clearly outnumbering them. Only their enthusiasm to join the battle’s foremost ranks seemed to have diminished after the desertion of their strongest ally—the Dragon—and the surprising loss of the six supermen.

  Nevertheless, it couldn’t take long until they’d gotten the last two defenders. One of the attackers was just preparing a rifle grenade behind the cover of his armored van.

  I should do something about it.

  Induce fighting trance.

  —Warning. Movements in trance could cause inner injuries due to the alien object.—

  Then I’d better prepare to avoid such movements while in trance, shouldn’t I?

  Still, I had to hurry. Across this distance, I didn’t have to fear friendly fire from the guards—behind the van I was covered anyway, and the attackers didn’t shoot at their own, so I only had to make sure not to trigger any telltale signals.

  Of course, I triggered the most telltale signal at that moment, when I cut half of the grenade-shooters hand off with one strike of my claw. He screamed, the rifle dropped from his hand—I leaped away—the grenade dropped tip-first on the asphalt, exploded—and the grenade splinters buzzed all around me, painfully pierced my armor and ruined my camouflage.

  Without the nano armor, I’d probably have looked as much like shashlik as the shooter. So my healing nanos only had to stop numerous bleedings, moreover, my pierced leg muscles would fail servicing me.

  Heal!

  I couldn’t go on like this. Nanos or not, as a Swiss cheese I couldn’t fight. Aw damn, I had no experience in war!

  But yes, I had. The solution was easy. I only had to sneak up to another shooter, take his gun away and use it. That’s what I did.

  Taken under fire from two sides, the remaining attackers finally gave up, dropped their weapons and raised their hands.

  “Step out into the street,” I instructed them, and then shouted aloud, “Guard! Cease fire!”

  To avoid misunderstandings, I dropped my weapon, too—and then became visible. So I presented myself to the two defenders in my holey golden skin.

  “Golden One? Come over.”

  Well then.

  Ouch.

  —Reserves needed for healing.—

  Ouch. Without the soothing effect from my nanos, I felt every step on my injured legs, in my belly, at my sides. With little elegance, I stumbled toward the Inui gate, slowly, so that the pain couldn’t make me faint. To my comfort, the gate looked worse than I—the traces of steel and plasma rounds were everywhere.

  “Stop.”

  Ten steps before the gate I stopped.

  “Where’s the Dragon?”

  I’d gladly have told them, but I suddenly felt weak. My legs would no longer carry me. “Must sit down,” I uttered. Then my vision ultimately went black.

  Part Eleven

  Duty

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Five

  I woke up from a plucking feeling. A Dragon head hovered above me.

  “Mistress?”

  I felt like I’d been eaten, chewed upon, and spat out again.

  “Mistress!”

  “Wha?”

  “Here are physicians who want to help you.”

  “Go on.”

  “Your armor protects you from them, too.”

  “Oh.” Yes, but I wanted to be protected. Did I? “What’s the situation?”

  “You are not in danger.”

  No? How long would it take until the cult had brought in reinforcements? “Okay.”

  Remove armor.

  Surprised and terrified calls followed, when my hardly healed, fresh injuries appeared under the suit.

  A white-frocked Japanese stepped close. “You should be long dead.”

  “That’s how I feel.” Was there any spot that didn’t hurt like hell? I didn’t have toothache. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “With these injuries, you can’t be carried away.”

  “I only need food and some time.”

  “I will give you a strong painkiller first.”

  “Not necessary—aw, give me.”

  Why should I make his life harder? I allowed him to put up an infusion, also granted him a blood sample, denied banked blood, and demanded concentrated nutrients instead.

  “Do you have large pinchers?”

  “Yes, why?” He produced an instrument from his bag.

  In lieu of an answer, I pushed the claw at my right index finger forward and made a short and deep cut into my abdomen, right above the steel ball, and then pulled the wound edges apart. After all, it was just pain. “Take it out, please.”

  His face went green. Behind me I heard a body drop. But the physician persevered, inserted his tool, and plucked. Shortly later I had gotten rid of the disturbing alien object. Heal.

  “Fascinating. Your abdominal wall closes like on its own.”

  “Lóng,” someone in the background commented. Then steps approached, heels click
ed together. “Shogun!”

  Chapter One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Six

  “Report.”

  “Situation under control. We’ve lost three men, one is heavily injured, my fellow and I lightly. The attackers have surrendered.”

  “And this one?”

  “That’s the woman who had illegally intruded the palace to warn us. She’s severely injured. She’s brought the Dragon over to our side and forced the attackers to capitulate.”

  “How was that possible?”

  “Regarding the Dragon, I don’t know. She commands means to camouflage herself, like with an armor suit.”

  “So. Can she be addressed?”

  “I can,” I confirmed myself. The Shogun stepped closer and then squatted next to me. The physician would protest, but kept his mouth shut upon the guard leader’s stern glance.

  “Who are you?”

  “Johanna Meier.”

  “What can you tell me about the incident?”

  “A lot. Where shall I start?”

  “I’ve already heard what you’ve told my men in the palace. I know you can camouflage. I want to know what’s happened here at the gate.”

  “The attackers came with six armor suits and a lot of conventional support. I knew that your men, as good as they are, had no chance.”

  “Go on.”

  “I had to get very close. So I snuck between the suits—”

  “How did you know where they were?”

  “How can a blind fighter get his bearings?”

  “I understand. Go on.”

  “I manipulated one of their backpack reactors and made it run away. Thereafter, your men had enough opportunity to aim.”

  “How? That shouldn’t be possible.”

  “If you know how a fusion reactor works, you can sabotage it, too.”

  “For that, you must know your ways unusually well.”

  “For example, like the inventor of the Meier effect?”

  “I understand. And—you’ve made the Dragon change sides? How?”