Dragon Wave

by Valerie Emerson

  Rry’s lip curled, but Honia was quick to answer.

  “Very well. Let the learning begin.”

  The trip to the Academy was filled with long silences, punctuated by failed attempts to get a conversation going. The Pirr showed little interest in the electric train, nor the hydroelectric plant they passed on the way to the city. They didn’t offer insight into what they used for power on Hoi.

  Coraolis was used to running into brick walls when it came to difficult people, but this surprised him. He thought they were here to learn from each other. He tried to put it down to galactic space lag and culture shock. He still had to counsel himself to be patient.

  Once at the Academy, they started with the nature trails, then headed into campus to show them the buildings. Julia took the lead; she’d taken to teaching, and her pride in the Academy was infectious.

  “That’s the Landon Center, where we have academic courses that aren’t directly related to Mystics. We get professors from local universities to teach electives like comparative literature or computer programming.”

  Rry made a humming noise Coraolis was starting to associate with disapproval. She was looking at a group of students sitting in a circle. Two of them were talking animatedly, while the other three ate ice cream cones.

  Honia saw them too. “What is that?” he demanded. “Is it food?”

  “Junk food, yes. You can’t live off it.” Julia pointed over at the café. “You can get it in there if you’ve got student credits.”

  “How do I obtain these student credits?”

  Julia blinked. “For now, I can buy you ice cream if you want it. We will get you your own IDs and meal cards as special ambassadors to the Academy, even though you are still considered students.”

  “I’ll take care of that tomorrow,” Coraolis promised.

  Julia led them into the nearby café. She ignored the students’ stares, and Coraolis followed her lead. The Pirr returned the stares measure for measure, and the human students usually looked away first.

  They reached the ice cream counter before it proceeded beyond staring contests. Honia stepped to the front, pressing his hands to the glass as he inspected the options. “Explain this,” he snapped at the young man behind the counter.

  “You want me to explain ice cream?” The young man looked at Coraolis with an expression that said he wasn’t paid enough for this.

  Coraolis smiled reassuringly. “It’s a frozen dessert we eat for pleasure. Each of these tubs has a different flavor. I’d suggest vanilla for your first time.”

  Rry hissed. “Vanilla is a term used by humans to denote things that are not interesting or bland. We do not require bland food.”

  “Okay then. There’s strawberry there, or chocolate.” He went through each flavor, doing his best to describe them to his guests. He got stuck on coffee until Julia went across the café to get a cup for them to try. They finally settled on fudge ripple for Honia and bubblegum for Rry. Coraolis got a scoop of vanilla.

  “We’ve got game night tonight,” Julia reminded him.

  “Without Jack and Dante?” he asked, surprised.

  “Yes, Isabel wants to try running, and I thought we could show these two some of our culture.” She nudged him. “She’s bringing her buffalo dip. I couldn’t say no.”

  That sold him. He was about to say so when he saw Honia open his jaws wide and start to take a massive bite out of his ice cream cone.

  “Slow down, you’ll get brain freeze!”

  Rry shook her head, letting the hood fall back from her face. A streak of blue ice cream had smeared on the tip of her nose.

  “Brain freeze? You eat foods that do this?”

  Honia had paused, but at Rry’s question, he went ahead and bit off half his ice cream, cone and all.

  “If humans can withstand it, so can I,” he declared, while Julia winced in sympathy. Not to be outdone, Rry did the same with her cone. A moment later they were clutching their faces, which were contorted with pain.

  “We can’t really. That’s why I warned you,” Coraolis sighed. “It’ll pass.”

  The Pirrs’ groans were his only answer, but as he promised, after a few moments they’d recovered. Rry rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “You do that for pleasure?” Honia demanded.

  “We don’t eat it too fast. It’s a guilty pleasure if you take it slowly.” Coraolis nibbled at his ice cream slowly. “Like this.”

  Honia narrowed his eyes at Coraolis and his vanilla cone, then said something to Rry in their own language. She answered him, her voice just as harsh as when she’d spoken English. After a moment, they moved as one, both jamming the rest of their cones into their mouths.

  Coraolis’s eyes watered in sympathy, but this time, the Pirr seemed to shrug off the pain.

  “Your pleasure foods are indeed a pleasant surprise,” Honia admitted. “They are sweet and soft, yet they carry a trial of fortitude. Well done.”

  Julia covered her mouth with both hands, leaving Coraolis to answer. He inclined his head politely. “While I can’t take credit myself, I thank you on behalf of the human race and the dairy state.”

  ***

  Their tour of campus devolved into a tour of the small restaurants and cafes on campus. After a while, Coraolis marveled at the amount of food a Pirr could put away. They tried burritos and hot dogs and dismissed them both as ‘vanilla.’ Pizza was met with approval, as were jalapeno poppers.

  Coraolis worried about the state of their stomachs when they finally slowed down and agreed to observe a class. Julia led the way across campus to where her students were waiting.

  “This class isn’t required, but my students like to put in extra time to keep up with the nats, er, natural born Mystics.” She gestured at the metal plating on her own face. “I like to give them every advantage. Being a Mystic is difficult enough. Coming into it as an adult is a challenge unique to itself.”

  She pulled the classroom door open and tried to wave the Pirr inside. Ten students were waiting. Their chatter stopped the moment they saw Julia and her companions.

  “Hey, Instructor Ronasuli,” one called out. “Are those the aliens?”

  “Cool,” someone else chimed in.

  “Are these your students?” Honia asked; his voice had the same angry quality it had when Cor had offered him a taste of his vanilla cone.

  “Yes. They’re Enhanced, like me.”

  “Enhanced. They were not born with the gift? It was given to them?” Rry asked. “How long has this been going on?”

  “A while.” Julia stared back at the Pirr. “Why?”

  “This is an abomination. You have the gift or you do not. Mortals do not choose,” Honia hissed. He strode into the classroom, and the students fell back. “You have stolen the dragon’s fire for yourselves. You will all burn.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Julia snapped. “We’re calling off class for today. You two, please understand that while we are your hosts, we are not your doormats. I demand respect for my students and myself.”

  “So do I,” Coraolis added, even though he wasn’t sure how wise it was to aggravate intergalactic ambassadors.

  “You are representing your people and your culture. You can believe whatever you like, but believe me, if you try to shame me or my students for bettering ourselves, for becoming more ourselves than we ever were before, you’ll be on the first flight back to Pirr.”

  The Pirr stared at Julia, their expressions devoid of emotion. Rry said something to Honia in stiff, formal tones. He protested for a moment, but Rry repeated herself. The tone was the same, at least, and Coraolis recognized the syllables the second time around.

  When she was finished, Honia bowed low enough to kiss the ground. “I have wronged our hosts. I deeply apologize for my disrespect. If you wish to call for my death, Rry will assist me.”

  “How about you just apologize and don’t do it again,” Julia suggested. “I don’t need you to bow like that.”

  “V
ery well. I will learn in silence. I will save my conclusions for my reports.” Honia straightened. He had an angry glint in his eye, but that mostly seemed to be for Rry.

  “Have you anything else to show us?” Rry asked.

  “Let’s find a private place where you can ask whatever questions you can think of,” Coraolis said. “Julia, we can meet you at home at six?”

  “If you’re sure?” she glanced at the Pirr, questions in her eyes.

  She was right to be doubtful. They were already proving to be more difficult guests than expected, but at least they backed down when Julia returned fire. He’d just keep that in mind if they acted up again. In the meantime, he wanted to get Julia some time away from the Pirr.

  “Go on. We’ll be fine,” he assured her.

  ***

  Fine wasn’t the word he’d have chosen later but, after a while, the Pirr got the sense of what was appropriate to say to a student and what was not. Demanding to know if they were born Mystics or Enhanced was over the line. Asking if their ancestors had also been Mystics was not only rude, but their motivations were transparent.

  Eventually, they subsided and showed some interest in the school itself. He gave them a brief history as they circled campus. They nodded and stopped asking questions when they learned the research center was off-limits. They moved on to interrogate him about the library.

  He was tired of answering questions by the time he took them home. He had to wonder just how he was going to get through the next six months. Isabel and Julia were already there, throwing together the last of the refreshments.

  Coraolis escorted them to the kitchen table, where books and dice were already laid out. Isabel came over to shake hands, but they ignored her hand the way they had Cor’s.

  “This is Isabel. She’s a technician in the research center,” he said.

  “A technician? You are not a Mystic?” Honia asked, then held up his hands in peace. “I only seek to understand your role.”

  “Nope, I’m a mad scientist,” Isabel said. She noticed they weren’t taking her hand and hid her own in her pockets. “I’d love to get you in my workspace sometime. You’re the equivalent of Mystics, right? I’d kill to get some measurements.”

  Julia cleared her throat. “It’s really a shame they don’t have security clearance.”

  “Hey, a girl can dream,” Isabel retorted, but the smile never left her face.

  “I would know more of these measurements,” Rry said, looking at the couch as if she were trying to decide to sit or not. She narrowed her eyes at Isabel. “Why do you have to kill to take a measurement?”

  “Sorry! I don’t need to kill anyone.” Isabel suppressed a chuckle. “Mostly, does your brain work the way a human Mystic’s does? Where does your power come from?” she asked. “I need to get someone with medical training on my team. For now I’m working on it from a mechanical perspective.”

  “Our abilities were granted to us by the ancient Pact,” Honia told her. “The lost ones took a piece of their light and imbued the Pirr with it. We were their most loyal servants and their greatest warriors.”

  “And then I think, I really need a xenoanthropologist,” Isabel sighed. “That’s a fascinating story. Maybe you could record your myths for me too?”

  “Myths?” Rry began to rise from the couch just as she had settled onto it. Honia, seated beside her, tugged her back down and muttered something in her ear. She nodded and crossed her arms. There was no mistaking her offended glare.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Isabel said, her hands flying to her mouth. “My big dumb mouth. I completely respect your beliefs, I’m sorry. I just get in the academic zone and…how about we get some food, and then we can play?”

  Rry still looked sour, but Honia perked up at the mention of food. He stood and followed Isabel to the counter where he loaded a pair of plates. He put one in front of Rry, then sat down with his own, having taken a generous helping of pizza and a small dab of buffalo dip. He scooped one bite of dip onto a chip, then shoved the whole thing into his mouth. He froze, then began to chew more rapidly. He put the rest of the dip on a single chip, then made that disappear as well.

  Honia then dumped the slices of pizza on the table and went back for more dip. Coraolis followed him, determined to get some for himself before it was gone. Rry tried it for herself and followed Honia’s example.

  It took a while to get everyone back at the table and settled. Isabel was flattered by their reaction and seemed quite relaxed by the time she handed out the premade character sheets.

  “So…this is the game I told you about. You take on a role and pretend to be a hero gathering treasure and defeating monsters.” Coraolis grabbed a selection of dice and put them in front of each of the aliens.

  Rry looked skeptical. “I pretend to be a hero?”

  “Regardless of whether you’re one in real life, this is a different type of hero,” Isabel explained. “Your sheet has numbers that show how good you are at things. For instance, Honia’s paladin is very strong, but not very nimble. That’s your seventeen strength and ten in dexterity.”

  “Understood. Higher numbers are better?” Honia asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But this number is low. Taco? No. That is a number at the end. What is this?” Honia poked at his sheet. At least he wasn’t expressing every question as a demand anymore.

  “Actually, that and your armor class are the things you want to be low. I’ll walk you through it when you get to your first combat. So basically, the four of you are in the employ of Lord Veritus, a wealthy nobleman.”

  “We are not. I do not know this Lord Veritus,” Rry snapped, sounding offended yet again.

  “This is pretend. I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about your characters.” Isabel looked at Coraolis in a plea for help. Coraolis ran a hand through his hair.

  “When you say pretend, you mean we lie.” Rry sneered at Isabel, who seemed taken aback.

  “Think of it as a meditative exercise,” Julia suggested.

  “No. We will eat the food, but we will not participate in the lies.” Rry shoved a pizza slice into her mouth and chewed it viciously. “Go on. Lie, humans. We will observe.”

  Isabel hesitated, but Julia and Cor told her to go ahead. Coraolis was glad the Pirr were the ones to come up with the suggestion. He was known as a patient man, but even he was feeling ragged by that time. It was strange, having an audience when they played, but eventually, he forgot about the extra eyes on him as he got lost in Isabel’s story.

  By the time midnight rolled around, they had rescued the king from certain death and brought much honor to their liege lord. They were on their way back to their home when Isabel noticed the time and excused herself. She had to get up early for work.

  Rry requested bed as well, and Julia offered to show her the spare room. The Pirr would be staying overnight with them and, in the morning, they would move into their dorm rooms. Honia stayed behind, looking over his character sheet curiously.

  “What did you think?” Coraolis asked while gathering dice and stowing them in his bag.

  “It was interesting. You create a reality by consensus and narrate events there by your words. It is not true, but you all know this. It doesn’t have the taint of a lie.” Honia held up his sheet. “I would like to keep this.”

  “It’s all yours. Do you think you’d want to play?”

  Honia’s ears twitched. “Perhaps. I can see the value as a mental exercise, and it seemed pleasurable. The buffalo dip was wonderful. I would like to have this again.”

  “Maybe next time, then.” Coraolis stood and started to gather the dishes. “I’m going to clean up, so if you want to go to bed, Julia can show you where it is.”

  Honia stood, but he didn’t leave the room. Instead, he joined Coraolis in gathering dirty dishes. He didn’t say much, but he asked questions while Coraolis loaded the dishwasher.

  “Do you normally do this at home?” Coraolis asked when they finished
.

  “I clean my own quarters, but we eat communally. Hired servants cook and clean up for us. Your school campus seemed to have a similar setup.”

  “Well, we don’t refer to them as ‘servants,’ but I see what you mean.” Coraolis put in the soap and closed the dishwasher door. “You seem to have some pretty strong feelings about Mystics.”

  “The gift is central to our culture. Everyone has it, if not all to the same degree. It is our sacred charge.” Honia scowled. “Your approach lacks faith.”

  “I guess it does, at that. We like to know how things work.”

  “As do we, but we have the guidance of a greater power. Perhaps that is why our technology outstrips your own.” Honia sounded thoughtful more than hostile, so Coraolis tried to take his words as they were meant. “Yet, your culinary arts surpass understanding. It may only be that our efforts have advanced in different directions.”

  Coraolis couldn’t help but laugh. “You may just be right about that,” he agreed. “Now let me show you the guest room, and we can start again tomorrow.”

  “That is acceptable.” Honia dipped his head in the slightest of bows and allowed Coraolis to show him his room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dante and Jack waited outside the hangar on the E.F.S. Mothership Pisces, their bags on the floor next to them. The clock was ticking down to their rendezvous with the Pirr. They’d been waiting on the mothership for three days. Most of the trip out had been spent on a crash-course in diplomacy.

  “Nervous?” Jack asked.

  Dante nodded. He was still surprised he’d been chosen for this mission, blank slate or not, but the Secret Council had decided that he had a connection with Khiann Xoa. She’d only tried to kill him fifty percent of the time, so maybe they were on to something.

  “We’ll have a week to get over it, once the Pirr pick us up. Maybe our pilot can give us a few clues on how to act. I get the idea they’re all hung up on honor, but that doesn’t tell me what their code entails.” Dante shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “They got mad when I implied that Xoa might not keep her word.”