by Scott Meyer
Tyler looked up at the dragons and said, “Let’s see. If Jeff made seven, and we’ve accounted for five, that means there are two still lurking around.”
“Yes,” Roy said. “If. I’m curious, Jeff, why don’t you just delete the dragons?”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t because you there’s a good reason not to, or can’t because it’s not possible?”
Brit moaned. Phillip asked, “What are you getting at, Roy?”
“These aren’t the dragons Jeff made. They’re still safe and sound in that geodesic dome you made for them, aren’t they?”
Jeff said, “I made these dragons, too. Just not deliberately. The ones I made deliberately are back in the cage.”
Phillip said, “Jeff, you’re telling us that you created extra dragons, by accident?”
Gary said, “It happens.”
Roy said, “No, it doesn’t, or at least it shouldn’t. What happened, Jeff? Did you cut some corner? Take a little shortcut, did you?”
“What I did isn’t important right now.”
Brit said, “It’s very important, just not quite as important as the small herd of dragons circling over town.”
“Will it remain a small herd, Jeff?” Roy asked.
“I hope so.”
Brit said, “That’s not a good answer.”
“No matter,” Phillip said. “Right now these dragons are our problem, and luckily, I have a way to deal with them.” Phillip lifted his staff above his head and flew into the sky above town.
“Does he have a way to deal with them, Jeff?” Roy asked.
“I hope so.”
Brit scowled and said, “That’s still not a good answer.”
Phillip gained altitude until he drew level with the dragons. He found the one with the horns— the largest and most aggressive dragon. He intended to deal with it first. Phillip prepared his missile spell, locked the targeting system onto the horned dragon, and fired.
There was no actual, physical, missile. Just a ball of bright, pulsing light that tracked its target using the aiming algorithm from a video game. The pulse of light streaked through the sky. The horned dragon saw it coming and turned in an effort to evade. The missile struck the dragon in the side and exploded with an artificially generated blinding flash and the all-too-real force of several sticks of dynamite—enough power to reduce a car to a smoking ruin.
The dragon was shoved off course but suffered no damage.
Brit rounded angrily on Jeff. “Why?”
“They aren’t real,” Jeff explained, miserably. “They’re not real animals. They’re non-player characters. Avatars. Simulations. Unless they’re programmed to react to something, they won’t. Shooting one with a weapon they aren’t programmed for and hoping it’ll kill them is like insulting a mannequin and hoping to hurt its feelings.”
“Didn’t you program them to be killed by missiles?” Tyler asked.
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t done any custom programming on these dragons. I didn’t know these dragons existed, and even with the other dragons, half of the time I had to just watch what you guys did and decide whether or not to count it as a knockout and trigger the kill animation.”
“Well then what are you waiting for?” Gary asked. “Kill these off already.”
Roy said, “He can’t.”
Jeff shook his head. “I don’t have any direct interface with these dragons.”
“Why not?” Tyler asked.
“Because he didn’t create them,” Roy said. “He has no idea how they came to exist. That means that he doesn’t know where their entries are in the file, and his control program doesn’t have any hooks into their code. They’re completely autonomous. Poorly programmed, but autonomous.”
“Well, can’t we just make them vanish anyway,” Gary asked, “like we do with the cockroaches we find in our homes?”
Brit asked, “You do that?”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t have cockroaches in my home.”
“Well aren’t you fancy?!”
“Too risky,” Roy said, straining his words through gritted teeth. “We don’t know how they appeared, so we don’t know what process they somehow got tied to. If we make them disappear we don’t know what else might disappear along with them.”
Gary said, “That sucks.”
“I know it sucks,” Jeff shouted. “I’m painfully aware that it sucks! I’ll be happy to have an in-depth discussion about the suckage later, but right now we have dragons circling overhead, freaking out the locals!”
“They’re not circling anymore,” Martin said, shielding his eyes as he looked to the sky. “They’re all chasing Phillip.”
Phillip flew in large, lazy curves, just fast enough that the horned dragon couldn’t quite catch him. It followed every move he made, and the other four dragons followed both of them.
As the wizards stood and watched the dragon’s pursuit of Phillip, many of the citizens slowly began to peek their heads out of their hiding places, some lured by the relative quiet, others drawn by the sound of the wizards arguing.
Gwen asked, “Jeff, if these dragons aren’t programmed to react to our weapon spells, is it possible that they also aren’t programmed to not respond to our usual defensive spells?”
Jeff took a moment to decipher Gwen’s double negative, then said, “I hope so.”
Brit said, “We haven’t had a lot of luck with that response today, but it’s worth a try.” She pressed her thumb and ring finger together to trigger the battle communications macro and said, “Phillip, there’s a chance our defensive spells might work. Try throwing up an exclusion field behind you. Let’s see if it stops them.”
Phillip turned around to face the dragons and muttered “Mura rapida,” Esperanto for quick wall, to create an exclusion field, an invisible barrier through which no living thing aside from himself could pass. His speed dropped as he watched the horned dragon approach the invisible wall, reach it, and pass through it as if it weren’t there.
Phillip waited a bit too long to continue fleeing; he couldn’t see the invisible force field, so it took him an extra second to convince himself that it hadn’t worked. When he finally got up to speed, the horned dragon was only a few yards behind him. He could have outrun the dragons easily, of course, or simply teleported away. He hadn’t, because as long as the dragons kept chasing him, they were, to some extent, under his control. He could simply lead them around by the nose for as long as he wanted, unless something happened to upset the balance of power.
The horned dragon opened its jaws and exhaled a scorching jet of whitish-yellow flames, which fully enveloped Phillip.
The rest of the wizards had watched the entire sequence of events unfold. As Phillip’s startled, pained yelp reached their ears, Martin asked, “Is this what it’s like to watch me?”
“Usually,” Gwen answered.
The dragon reached the end of its lung capacity. The fireball dissipated. Phillip was gone. The wizards were only puzzled for a moment before they heard coughing behind them.
Phillip had teleported out of the fireball and was standing behind them. The program that gave the wizards their powers also manipulated their entries in the repository file to make them impervious to physical damage, so none of them had any doubt that Phillip was all right.
Gary said, “Good thing the fire can’t hurt you, eh?”
“Harm,” Phillip coughed. “The fire didn’t harm me. I assure you, it hurt quite a lot.”
Tyler said, “Yeah, well, that’s how Jeff programmed them. It hurts, but it’s not real fire. It won’t burn anything.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “That’s right. I mean, Phillip, could you tell? It’s the fake fire I programmed, not real fire, right?”
Phillip narrowed his eyes and asked Jeff, “Why are you asking me?”
“An excellent question,” Brit said, “And one we’ll have to table for now.” She pointed to the dragons. They flew in a loose formation with the horned dragon in the lead. It seemed to have seen where Phillip went. It brought the others down the street toward the wizards at just above rooftop level, with great speed and ominous intent.
The knowledge that one has unnatural powers doesn’t quite trump one’s natural instincts. The wizards started running away from the dragons before taking to the air. As they ran, Gary asked, “Jeff, how’d you get them to act so lifelike?”
“By doing something stupid,” Jeff said.
7.
Sonny and Honor were making great time.
Honor walked quickly because she needed to speak to Bishop Galbraith. She had to tell him what she’d seen in the woods: the wizard, the dragons, and the stolen sheep that seemed to reappear afterward. She had faith that the bishop would know what it all meant. Or, he’d know what to do. She never knew her grandfather, but she knew her father, and her father called Bishop Galbraith Father. That was close enough for her.
Sonny also needed to speak to Bishop Galbraith. His little sister had come back from grazing the sheep talking about wizards and dragons and needing to go see the bishop. Either something had happened out in the woods, she had seen things she didn’t understand, and she needed help, or nothing had happened in the woods, she had seen things she didn’t understand, and she needed help even more.
“We should have gone last night,” Honor said.
Sonny said, “No, I told you. You needed your sleep.”
“I didn’t sleep anyway.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Runt ran circles around Honor and Sonny at first, excited by the change of routine, or maybe agitated by Honor’s state of mind. Whatever the reason, Runt tired herself out pretty fast, and Honor ended up picking up the dog and carrying her.
Sonny said, “One good thing about setting out so early is that Kludge and his gang should still be asleep when we pass their camp.”
Honor said, “Mm-hmm.”
“The walk back might be dicey, but if we keep a distance and don’t give them a reason to bother us, we should be fine. They’re a rough lot, but they’re lazy and they know we have little money, so we’re more trouble than we’re worth.”
Honor chuckled and said, “Lazy Bastards.”
“Honor! What have I told you about calling people that?”
“Not to, but that’s what they call themselves. It’s the name of their gang.”
“Does Kludge and his gang doing something make it all right for you to do it, too?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine. An understandable mistake. As you say, they do call themselves that. We just have to be better than them.”
Honor asked, “Why do they call themselves that?”
Sonny said, “I dunno. They think it sounds tough, I guess. Or maybe someone called them that and Kludge liked the sound of it. Either way, I think it’s really only an accurate description of one or two of them.”
Honor walked in the lead, carrying Runt. She rounded a bend in the road that allowed a clear view of Leadchurch in the distance. She looked at the town and thought, It won’t be hard to convince His Excellency that I saw dragons. All he has to do is look up and he’ll see them himself!
Sonny rounded the corner only steps behind her and stopped in his tracks when he saw the dragons flying in circles above the rooftops.
She wasn’t making up stories, and she wasn’t imagining things, he thought. That’s good news, I suppose.
Honor said, “I told you we should have come last night.”
Sonny said, “I’m not sure we should have come today.”
Honor resumed walking. Runt barked and squirmed and struggled in her arms.
“Honor, see, even the dog knows we should stay back.”
Runt broke free of Honor’s grip, hit the ground, and started running straight toward town. Honor ran to chase Runt, and Sonny ran to chase both of them.
“What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I’ll tell them what I saw.”
“You saw dragons! They know there are dragons! They can see that for themselves!”
“But they don’t know a wizard is controlling them.”
“You don’t know that either!”
Honor’s pace slowed. Sonny thought for a moment that he’d gotten through to her. He caught up to his sister and stopped. In the distance he saw Runt also stop, looking back over her shoulder at the two humans who were no longer chasing her.
Honor kept staring into the distant sky, watching the dragons. Sonny put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Look, you were right about what you saw, but that doesn’t prove—”
“No,” Honor barked, “You look!” She pointed into the sky. “I was right about what I saw, and that proves it!”
The tiny form of a person floated into the gray morning sky, leading the dragons. It had to be a wizard, though they were too far away to make out any details, or even identify the color of the wizard’s robes. The wizard made some broad gesture toward the dragons, then turned and looked at them for a moment. One of the dragons belched a huge stream of fire, which enveloped the wizard, and when the fire had dissipated, the wizard had vanished. The dragons circled one last time, then flew in low along the rooftops of the town, the lead one breathing fire as it went. Sonny couldn’t see what damage they were doing, but the round, roiling billows of flame made it easy to imagine.
“There, now you don’t need to warn people about the wizards controlling the dragons. After seeing that, they’ll know.” Sonny looked at the empty spot where Honor had been standing, then looked ahead to see her sprinting toward town as fast as she could, Runt running just ahead of her.
* * *
The wizards ran in a group down the middle of the street. The dragons flew single file right at them, following the street’s path. For a sick, giddy moment Martin thought, This must be what it’s like to be a bowling pin.
Martin realized that his macro was still active. Of course, I’m larger and more visible than all of the other pins combined, he thought. That seems like a bad thing.
Then the lead dragon started blowing fire, and all thoughts of bowling left Martin’s mind.
The wizards scattered in every conceivable direction, leaving the dragons at a loss as to which wizard they should follow. The dragons rose back into the sky to regroup.
The wizards had scattered around the general area, but were still able to talk, thanks to the battle comm.
Tyler shouted, “What have you done, Jeff?”
“I’m sorry! I‘m sorry! I didn’t plan any of this!”
Phillip cut in, “Tyler, we’re all upset, but there’ll be time enough to put a boot up Jeff’s arse later.”
Roy muttered, “I’m not so sure. I intend to take my time.”
“We have bigger problems right now,” Phillip said. “We have four dragons, which are impervious to all of our weapons, attacking the town. We have to get them out of here before something terrible happens.”
Martin said, “Dragons are attacking the town! What do you mean, before?”
Gwen said, “He means that the dragons can’t really damage anything. They cause pain, but that’s it. One just blew a huge fireball all over a street lined with wooden huts and nothing caught fire. We don’t even know if the big one ramming things will damage it. That wall might have only been dented because you were between it and the dragon.”
“Exactly,” Phillip said. “So far the only damage has been to our dignity and our respect for Jeff. But the longer this keeps up, the better the chances are that something genuinely bad will happen.
”
Brit said, “I’m sorry to say this, but I think it’s already started happening.”
The street had been deserted, but now they saw a tight cluster of six or seven men, all armed with swords, spears, and shields. The Leadchurch militia had arrived.
The horned dragon also seemed to notice the militia, and since a small group of men on the ground makes a much more tempting target then a spread-out bunch of hiding wizards, the dragons settled in for another strafing run.
The wizards all watched, some of them shouting as they did so, but they were at a loss as to how, or even if, they should intervene. They couldn’t stop the dragons. The dragons couldn’t injure the men. If the wizards took actions to stop the dragons from attacking the men, those measures probably wouldn’t work, and might actually pose a hazard to the men they wanted to save.
The dragons flew in a straight line, and each attacked the same way in turn. They’d each lead with a massive jet of flame that splayed out before them like the beam of a motorcycle’s headlight. Then, as the beast’s head passed over the men, their sharp claws and lashing tail would come into play.
The men used their shields, which were made of metal, wood, or a combination of the two, to hold back the flames, which did not work. The fire completely enveloped them. The men, however, crouched behind shields with their eyes squeezed shut, so they didn’t see the flames surrounding them. They felt intense heat and saw an orange glow through their eyelids, but simply assumed that since they survived without any noticeable burns, the shields had worked. Once the fire subsided, they had the claws to contend with, but the dragon’s belly hung right above them, exposed and vulnerable. The men tried to use their shields to block the dragon’s attack while they flailed with their swords and spears at the dragon’s softest target.
The talons sliced through the shields and the men as if they weren’t even there. Literally. The dragons’ feet shoved the men about, but the sharp claws passed straight through them, leaving no marks—just a trail of stinging pain. The men swung their weapons as hard as they could, following through as the blades bounced off the passing dragons and were stopped, usually by the body of the man standing next to them.
