RAWN

by Bonnie Burrows

  “That’s a very significant question,” replied Dartan. “As you may already be aware, the only Scodax in the armada were aboard the lead ship, or the ‘mastercraft,’ where Sir Thrax and his companions were held. None of their bodies have been recovered. Had we found any of them, we would have preserved them for study, to learn more of the plague that was killing them and whether such a genetic disorder, or a similar one, could affect other life in the galaxy.

  It appears that a general acceptance of diversity among beings is the best preventive measure against what happened to the Scodax. We have collected parts of android bodies from ships that self-destructed on Lacerta. The parts are so severely damaged, and so fragmentary, that they’ll never function again. It’s unlikely that our engineers will ever learn anything about the aliens’ technology from what little we’ve recovered.

  The android parts will be kept as museum specimens and lent out for exhibition on other planets, but we don’t expect to have any other use for them. The menace of the Scodax will not be forgotten, but we’re confident that it’s behind us now. And now, I’m sure you’ll all want to see the process of disposal of the alien debris get under way.”

  A levitating conveyor sled, long enough for the dozen mediates present and the Mentor himself, pulled up behind Dartan. The young Knight piloting the sled and Dartan acknowledged each other with nods, and the Mentor stepped to one side, gesturing for the mediates to climb aboard the sled. The members of the press filed quickly into the vehicle and sat down, and in a few minutes, the sled was off down a long corridor running along one side of the spacedock.

  The sled took them to the central ellipse, the largest and broadest segment of the spacedock structure. Mediates and Mentor climbed off the sled and into a lift that was just large enough to accommodate the entire group. The lift quickly conveyed them up the arch of the segment and opened up in an interior space of the ellipse.

  This place was even more spacious than the dock they had just left. It was appointed with a large desk, statues, and potted vegetation taken from the planet. On its walls hung holopaintings of the leaders of Lacerta, past and present, scenes of the planet, and depictions of its history. There were long, wide viewports looking out from the summit of the spacedock structure onto space and the planet.

  In the center of this chamber were enough plush and comfortable chairs for everyone to be seated, facing a large hologram of a monitor screen. Dartan had his guests sit down and make themselves comfortable while he took a position standing between them and the monitor. Joanna guessed that this was Dartan's office or some other official meeting place for Mentors of the Knights.

  "I'm now going to show you where the disposal process will be taking place," the Mentor announced. "If you'll watch the monitor, please."

  The glow of the hologram brightened, then resolved itself into a different view of the corridor of spacedock segments. The camera's point of view tracked down the corridor to the far end of Lacerta Five, where the entire space was taken up with an immense, box-like metallic enclosure. At the top of this construct, a cylindrical structure was mounted in front of viewports.

  With Epaulette still floating and recording at her shoulder, Joanna watched and listened as the Mentor spoke again. “What we’re about to show you is the interior of the laser disposal unit.” The picture on the monitor changed on cue to give a better look at the cylindrical structure attached to the unit. “There, in the laser control pod, our people will be working with the lasers that we’ll be using for the job. As you know, spacedocks are not only for docking craft in orbit. They also provide cleaning services.

  Laser ablation removes accumulated cosmic dust and dirt from the hulls of spacecraft and helps to restore the condition of the hull. What we’re going to do with the ablating lasers in this task is not to clean the parts of the Scodax craft we’ve collected, but disintegrate or vaporize them with the lasers operating at their highest power level, which we hardly ever have occasion to use.

  This task will be performed entirely in orbit to provide maximum safety for the planet. Collected debris will be loaded around the clock into disposal units, like this one we’ve constructed, and disintegration will continue until Lacerta and its surrounding space are clean of Scodax wreckage. And now, we’ll show you the inside of the unit.”

  The picture changed again. The cavernous interior of the disposal unit was filled with jagged fragments, burned and mangled and twisted and pitted, that had once been the hull parts, interior systems, and other devices and fixtures of Scodax vessels. They reminded Joanna of the cracked and discarded shell parts of terrestrial crabs and lobsters after someone’s meal. Armatures, four in all, extended downward from the upper corners of the unit, and on these were mounted laser devices, their firing ends glowing red.

  Though Joanna had not expected to find this part of her job as interesting as what awaited her on the planet, she suddenly found herself somewhat intrigued. Not long ago, what lay inside that disposal unit was active, fully operational spacecraft, operated by fully functional androids and living Scodax.

  Those shattered remnants had once been ships that brought sudden, shocking terror to a planet. They had blasted buildings and homes, turned places where people lived into places of carnage, caused widespread pain and death, and spurred furious upheaval and battle. The people of

  Lacerta would, no doubt, find it cathartic to see what had caused so much destruction finally destroyed.

  Joanna felt a bit of that catharsis even now. That, she thought, would make a fine “hook” for her story. After watching this display, she wanted to get out among the personnel on Lacerta Five for their reactions. Yes, that would personalize the whole thing for her audience. Satisfied at knowing how she would go forward, she smiled and waited.

  "The crew has been steadily charging the lasers to the energy level required for the job," said Dartan. "The charging will be completed in just a moment; then, you'll be able to watch the complete disintegration of the debris. In addition to cleaning up the planet and its orbit, this will have an added benefit. The energy released in the ablation process will be channeled into special capacitors that will supply additional power to the spacedock. Everything will be efficient; nothing will be wasted. Stand by now, and you'll see."

  So, the group of reporters waited patiently and noticed a throbbing of light from the ends of the lasers. The red glow brightened and turned white, which Joanna was sure meant they were ready to fire. She held her breath and watched. At once, rays of pearly brilliance leapt from the ends of the lasers into the interior of the metal cavern. Instantly, they struck the jagged parts of the Scodax ships, and where they touched, the wreckage lit up with a glow to match the lasers. Sparks ricocheted all across the tangle of broken parts. It became a fireworks display enclosed in metal walls. Joanna squinted at the image and thought she could see the Scodax wreckage starting to disappear into the pulsating glow...

  ...and then the entire hologram turned white--a cruel, all-consuming white, a white that bled from the edges of the screen and surged out into the room. All the mediates found it an impressive display and anticipated that, when the whiteness at last faded, nothing would be left on the monitor but the inner walls of the disposal unit, a lingering glow, some sparks, and the laser devices themselves, spent for the moment at the completion of their job.

  Instead, there was a sound like the thunder of a hundred storms at once. The noise ripped through the ears and body of everyone present, making the group start and flinch. At the same time, the monitor hologram flashed more brightly yet, then flickered and vanished. Joanna gasped and heard a few people cry out around her.

  Dartan staggered in front of where the monitor had been--and staggered all the more, almost toppling onto the floor, when a tremendous crashing sound came and a shock wave hit the chamber so hard that people, Joanna included, were nearly knocked from their seats. Dartan himself was thrown off his feet. The plants and trees in their pots were toppled and spilled onto th
e floor.

  Screams filled the room when, in the midst of a lurch that felt as if the entire spacedock were being shaken, a huge, jagged piece of metal ripped through the wall facing the mediates, cleaving it like the tooth of some impossible beast. The room shook again from the monstrous metallic tearing of the wall. Dartan flung himself back while the mediates leaped from their seats and either dove behind them or dashed for the far end of the chamber.

  Terrified and confused, Joanna jumped up while Epaulette quickly reattached itself to her shoulder. The cries of the other mediates echoed Joanna's own shout: "What happened? What's going on?"

  Steadying himself against a toppled ceramic planter whose miniature tree now lay on its side, and pulling himself up from the floor, Dartan touched his badge and called, “Status report!”

  An anxious male voice answered, “Mentor, some kind of reaction happened when the ablating lasers hit the Scodax material. It triggered an explosion that blew apart the containment unit. Spacedock systems are being affected: massive cascade failure in power systems, damage to structural integrity…”

  The voice suddenly cut off. There was another huge, bone-jarring lurch and a terrible ear-crunching sound of things tearing themselves apart. It hammered its way through the room and knocked people off their feet all over again. The entire place tilted violently to one side.

  The force of it slammed Joanna onto the floor between the chairs, which were somehow clamped to the floor and not toppled. People went scrambling for cover, either down between the chairs or desperately behind the fallen stalks and fronds of the overturned planets. Some of them dove behind the desk, which was also held in place by some means and was the largest undisturbed thing in the room—so far.

  The room continued to shake and rumble ominously. Breathlessly, Joanna scrambled up between the seats and half-staggered her way to the desk, crouching behind several of her gasping and wincing colleagues. She peered over them and over the desk to see Dartan bringing himself upright again.

  Scanning the room to see where all the people were, he called, “I want everyone to gather at the entrance. I’ve lost internal communication, but the spacedock must be being evacuated. We’ve got to hurry; I don’t know how much longer we’ll have life support and structural integrity. Everyone, come this way.” He started toward the portal to the lift, looking over his shoulder to make sure that people were following his directions.

  The people behind the desk started to come shakily to their feet, Joanna among them. Her colleagues began to make their way with an unsteady gait along the trembling deck. As calmly as she could, Joanna joined them. They walked as best they could with all the shaking going on. Joanna looked over her shoulder at the viewport at the planet Lacerta, wondering if she would actually manage to make it down there. No, she admonished herself, think positively…

  She had just gone a few steps when there was another terrible crash and the worst sound of ripping and tearing that Joanna or anyone else had ever heard. Another hard tremor hammered the room—and a section of the ceiling tore itself free and came down like an avalanche right in front of Joanna, into the space where three other mediates were walking. The three of them disappeared in a hail of pieces and fragments along with one huge piece of structure.

  Screaming in shock, Joanna lunged backward and fell on her bottom. For a moment, her vision was a blur and her ears were filled with the sounds of crashing and shattering. When she could see clearly again, all that she could make out were clouds of dust and heaps of debris. The people right in front of her were gone, crushed and smothered under pieces of spacedock structure that had nearly buried her. Joanna’s mouth opened wide, but no sound came out but a choked whimper.

  Somewhere in the conflagration, Joanna heard Dartan’s voice call to someone, “Keep moving! Don’t stop! Keep moving!” Coughing, heart pounding, Joanna forced herself back to her feet and resolved to move forward and find some way through the dust and smoke and whatever else lay in front of her, and reach where she heard the Mentor’s voice coming from. She visualized whoever was not crushed or knocked unconscious joining the Mentor at the open doors of the lift, and pictured herself joining them. And she moved.

  Joanna could just make out, through parting clouds of dust, the shape of Dartan, waving other shapes along. “That’s it! Hurry, now! Hurry…” She saw Dartan’s gaze come in her direction, saw him waving to her, encouraging her. What appeared to be a large ceiling beam lay between her and him, and she meant to try to climb over it, hoping that she would not be tripped up by other debris that she could not see.

  And then, with the most terrible cracking sound she had heard yet, Joanna felt the floor come out from under her. She flailed her arms in the air, clutching and grabbing at nothing, even as there was suddenly nothing under her feet. Her stomach felt as if it were plummeting inside her body—and her body itself physically went with it.

  She gave out another scream, arms and legs now flailing together, as all she could see was a whirl of dust and debris, and in whatever part of her mind could still think, she knew she was in free-fall. Flashes of what could happen in the next few seconds erupted in her head. Some collapsing deck below her could suddenly end her fall—and her life.

  She could hit some outcropping piece of structure and be run through, and hang there impaled while the spacedock crumbled around her. Or there could be nothing below her at all; she could simply fall out into space and suffocate and freeze while her blood boiled in the vacuum. All of that happened in her head in perhaps a couple of seconds…

  And as suddenly as she’d fallen, she was no longer falling.

  Some blur of motion came out of nowhere. Something came swooping under her and gathered her up. In the whooshing din around her, Joanna could just make out the sound of wings beating powerfully, and all at once, she felt herself being borne upward. The same small presence of mind that had flashed forward to her death now gathered whatever shreds of information she could find out of the calamity.

  There were arms around her—strong reptilian arms. Near her face was someone’s broad chest, armored and colored and badged. Over her face were a long reptilian neck and a massive, horned head. She saw the jaws of the reptile open wide, and flinched incredulously as, from that mouth, leapt a massive, searing jet of yellow-white flame.

  Her eyes followed the path of the bolt of fire forward to a cascade of huge metal pieces falling in their path, silhouetted by the fires of the spacedock in upheaval and collapse around them. Where the flaming jet struck it, the raining metal turned molten and fell away, rendered into smaller pieces while the being carrying her plunged through the space where the debris parts had been.

  Other huge chunks of spacedock structure fell down before them, and each in turn was blasted through by the breath of Joanna’s flying rescuer. Totally dazed, Joanna went limp in the arms that held her, and everything around her faded to darkness.

  Through a whirl of incoherent sensations came the impression of flying quickly upward while escaping air roared all around her. Then, the half-impressions of things being torn asunder stopped. Everything was calm, and she felt herself being lowered onto a soft but solid surface that was not shaking or rocking under her. Joanna lay there, still and dizzy and still not seeing anything clearly, and heard the sound of footsteps quickly walking a few steps away. There was the feeling of movement—a feeling that suggested whatever place in which she lay was pulling out and away from another place. Everything went dim and dark and quiet after that.

  At some point, Joanna opened her eyes again. She blinked, made herself focus, and found herself lying on a small bed attached to the interior wall of what she recognized as a spaceship. There was a viewport to one side of her, and she dragged herself up to look out of it with bleary eyes. Outside lay the clouds and surface of the planet Lacerta. Then, Joanna sensed a presence on the opposite side of her. She turned herself around on the bed to look behind her—and there he was.

  “I am Sir Rawn Ullery, Knight of
Lacerta,” he said. “The Lacerta Five spacedock has been lost, but you’re safe with me.”

  Joanna blinked again and made herself see the armored figure clearly. He was, in a word, incredible. He was clad in three-colored armor skin, lacking only the gold of a Mentor’s rank. Like all Lacerta Knights’ armor, his top hooked round the back of his neck and the small of his back, leaving his entire back open for the wings and tail that he would have if he were in his dragon form.

  His arms were bare with bands around his biceps. The hilt of his powerblade attached to his waist at one side. His hands were gauntleted with the same skin-like metallic fabric of his armor. His stubble-darkened face was warmly handsome; it spoke of quiet, strong nobility and gentleness all at once. His eyes were pools of darkness that radiated both concern and confidence.

  He had an edge of sensuality, if not raw sex, about him that was further reflected in the shape of his body. He was tall and powerfully muscled, without a gram of fat. The frame packed into that armor was all muscle and sinew. The arms and legs were large and breathtakingly sculpted. The armor skin clung sensuously to a chest and stomach that looked as if anything hurled against them would bounce right off. Across his face played looks of strength and weariness and some distant, nameless sorrow.