by Leslie Chase
"Harry," Gillian said from behind him, her voice angry and tired at the same time. "Put the gun down before someone gets hurt."
Zardan was suddenly glad he hadn't charged into battle. Whoever this was, Gillian knew him well enough to be exasperated rather than frightened by this display. Ripping the young human's head off was probably not going to win Zardan any points with her.
"I heard you scream over the radio, so I came as fast as I could," Harry said uncertainly. The muzzle of the gun wavered, too heavy for him to keep straight for long, and Zardan grudgingly admired the boy. Just like him, the boy had leaped to Gillian's aid, and he had to respect that, even if the boy was too young to do it effectively.
No, that's unfair too, he decided. That gun might be too big for him to fire safely, and if he tries he will hurt himself. But if he hits me, I'll be a lot worse off. He's doing a better job of protecting her than most would.
"I got a fright, that was all," Gillian said. She didn't seem to share his enthusiasm for the boy's behavior, sounding more irritated than pleased. "Now put that damned gun down, I don't want to have to deal with another emergency today. Zardan, please tell my idiot brother that I'm not in any danger."
"Gillian is perfectly safe. I am not going to hurt anyone," Zardan confirmed, warily watching for any sign that the boy was about to pull the trigger. Instead, Harry let the muzzle drop to point at the floor, face flushing. As soon as the danger was passed, Zardan sagged against the mining machine beside him with a groan, barely managing to catch a handhold. I'm really not up to this, he told himself.
Gillian was at his side instantly, catching him as he fell. But she could hardly hold him up more than he could himself, and they ended up tumbling to the floor together, her trapped under him for a moment. The feel of her body against his would have been something to savor if it hadn't been for the pain.
Harry was there a moment later, trying awkwardly to help separate the two of them. With his help, Zardan rolled aside and collapsed onto the blankets again.
"Idiot," Gillian complained as she pulled herself to her feet. "You didn't have to get up, you know you're too badly hurt."
"I thought you were in danger," Zardan said. That should have been enough to explain everything, but Gillian put her hands on her hips and glared at him. With a sigh, he kept talking. "I didn't save you out on the ice only to let someone here kill you, not when I owe you a life-debt."
"He saved you?" Harry asked excitedly, looking from Zardan to Gillian and back. "You didn't say anything about that! What happened? Who'd you save her from?"
"I didn't say anything because I knew you'd pester me for details," Gillian said, shaking her head and shooting Zardan a glare. His lip twitched as he held back a smile — he was hardly going to apologize for telling the truth. After a moment, Gillian shook her head. "Okay, Harry, I'll tell you all about it. But not now, first we've got to work out what to do with him. Your curiosity can wait."
Harry's face fell for a moment, and Zardan wanted to laugh. Would have done, if he hadn't felt sorry for the kid. He remembered what it was like to be young like that, barely, and he didn't want the boy to think he was making fun of him.
Gillian shot him a look, and he knew he hadn't concealed his amusement from her at least. Her glare turned into a longer look, and then her face reddened delightfully when she realized she was staring.
"We'll have to find you some clothes that fit, too," she muttered, turning away quickly. Zardan had heard that nudity embarrassed humans, but it wasn't something he'd encountered first hand. And the way the female had looked at him made ignoring the feelings rising inside him harder. That had to stop.
At least this is a problem I can do something about, he thought. He had no intention of causing his hosts any more distress than necessary.
His implanted nanotech still functioned, though. Drawing power from it, he called back the clothing he'd worn in Fuller Station before he shifted. A simple tunic and pants formed around his body, molecules taken from the air and reformed until in a few seconds he was dressed again.
The two humans stared, awestruck by that simple technological trick. Zardan couldn't help smiling. Human technology was so primitive in some ways, it was a wonder they'd made it to space at all.
He caught a hint of disappointment in Gillian's expression as well. Time to change the subject back to my leaving, he decided. There are things that neither of us want to discuss, I think.
"I will need some time to recover," Zardan said, bracing himself against the wall and sitting up. It hurt, but it was a lot more dignified than lying back and speaking to the ceiling. "Unless you have some healing nanites on hand, it will be a while before I can leave under my own power. If you let me stay, I will try not to be a burden on your hospitality in the meantime."
"Of course you can stay," Gillian said, sounding unsure of herself despite her firm words. "I'm not going to save you just to kick you out to die in the snow, now am I?"
"Oh boy," Harry said, excitement in his voice. "I've never met a dragon. You can tell me stories about, about space and stuff, and princesses and—"
"That's enough, Harry," Gillian said firmly. "Maybe he will tell you stories but not now, he's got to rest. Come on, let's get out of his hair."
Pulling a reluctant Harry towards the door, she looked back at Zardan. There was an uncertain vulnerability in her eyes as she met his gaze. "I'll be back later, with some food. If you need anything, call on the radio."
With that she was gone, pulling the heavy steel door shut behind her and leaving Zardan alone in the maintenance bay.
Thank the Thousand Suns, Zardan thought as the two humans left. The last thing he wanted to do was dwell on the past and the Empire, the ruins of his life and hopes and dreams. No, the sooner he was recovered and able to leave, the better for everyone.
Especially if Gillian was his mate, he didn't want to drag her down into the darkness with him. She deserved better than that.
5
Gillian
Harry looked at Gillian with the kind of wide grin that always made her nervous. She wasn't sure if it was going to lead to trouble or not, but it was a warning sign anyway. Her brother could get intensely curious about a subject and not let go of it, and if he fixated on this Zardan... well, she didn't know what would happen, but it was bound to be lively. And possibly embarrassing.
"Did he really save your life?" he asked her, practically vibrating with curiosity. "What happened out there?"
"I'm not going to talk about it," she told him, trying to be firm. "Why don't you see if you can get through to Dad? We're going to have to let him know what's going on. And I guess we need to tell someone there's an injured dragon here."
That wasn't the kind of problem she'd ever worried about — the Dragon Empire claimed Mars, but there were only a few hundred dragon shifters on the whole planet. Gillian had never expected to meet one in person. The idea that she might bring home an injured one hadn't even occurred to her.
That makes it sound like he's a bird or something, a pet I found by the road, she thought, shaking her head at the image and trying to laugh. I'm not going to ask Dad if I can keep him. No matter how hot he is.
It was almost disturbingly difficult to ignore that, though. Dragging the huge bulk of the dragon into the farm's maintenance bay had been tricky, but in a way, she preferred him in dragon form to looking at him now. He was, quite simply, the most amazingly attractive man she'd ever seen. Keeping her eyes off him wasn't easy.
He'd slept for two days, and the whole time his body seemed to call out to her. Sleeping only made it worse — Gillian couldn't remember much about her dreams, but she'd woken flustered and frustrated every morning. There was something about Zardan that her subconscious wouldn't let go of.
Now that he was awake, that call was even stronger. His odd violet eyes were so intense and piercing and somehow sad that she wanted to know his story. And his voice! That low rough growl of his sent shivers through her every tim
e he spoke.
Gillian became aware that Harry was staring at her with a little smirk on his face, and her face flushed as she glowered back at him.
"Shut up," she told him, aware that he hadn't said anything. Harry just laughed.
"Okay, I'll see if we can get through to Olympus, but the radio's been fritzing out," he said. "The weather isn't helping things, it's getting bad out there. I'm worried, sis. Is dad going to be able to make it back?"
"Sure he will," Gillian told him firmly, trying to suppress her own doubts. "The storm will pass, and winter's not really here yet. He's got plenty of time."
If the weather doesn't get any worse, that is. If their father got stuck in Olympus Colony over the winter, it would be a long stay that the farm really couldn't afford. But there was nothing for it now, either he'd make it back or not. And there should still be another week or two of good traveling weather before winter set in in earnest.
Perhaps it would have been better to deal with the bank over the radio, but funds were tight. Paying back their loan meant selling the ice they'd harvested, and they'd left it as late as possible so that there'd be plenty to sell. The Ardashev Bank wasn't known for being reasonable about those who owed it money, which made them want to pay back the loan as quickly as possible.
And he could make the trip worthwhile in other ways, picking up parts for the farm's heater units. They weren't in great shape, nothing around the farm was, and if they broke down over the winter they'd risk freezing before anyone could reach them for repairs. Even if someone could get out to the farm, it would cost a small fortune. Having the spare parts on hand to fix the heaters themselves was important.
Only now Dad's sold the ice and vanished, Gillian thought. He hasn't made it to the bank, he hasn't picked up the heater units, and he hasn't let us know where he is.
Gillian could guess where he was, but it wasn't much comfort. They'd just have to hope he didn't spend too much of the money drinking and gambling, she supposed.
If he did... Gillian didn't want to think about that. If they lost the farm because Dad drank the loan money, they had nowhere else to go.
"You go check on Dad, and I'll do a check on the robots," she said aloud. "Need to find out why Number Five wandered off like that, and if any of the others are going to do the same."
Harry looked at her dubiously. "Maybe we should just leave them powered down? I mean, we're not going to get much more done anyway."
"We'll need all the ice we can get," Gillian countered. "I'm not just shutting the farm down because we had a little trouble. There's still a lot of drinkable water around here just waiting to be dug up, and we want as much of that ready to sell as we can get, come spring."
Harry shook his head but didn't argue the point, and Gillian was quietly grateful. Her brother did have a point — if one of the robots got seriously damaged, the repair costs could ruin the farm. Living so close to the edge was getting stressful.
Which means taking care of the resources that we do have, she thought. So I'll have to work out what went wrong with old Number Five and figure out how we can keep the robots from blundering into a ravine.
That had the advantage of being work she could do without being around Zardan. Keeping away from the confusing feelings he sent through her sounded like a good plan, and the problem here had to be software. She could check that from the farm's offices and stay away from her damnably attractive patient.
Settling down to work amongst the stacks of poorly-filed documents, she downloaded Number Five's logs and started to go through them. It wasn't an easy task, and mapping the poor robot's movements onto a map seemed impossible. The readings made no sense at all.
Something must have seriously messed with the robot's navigation sensors, but even so she couldn't work out the path it had taken to get to where she found it. There were gaps and errors everywhere in the logs. Gillian tried to map it out, only to get stuck every time.
With a growl of frustration, she threw her pen at the dartboard on the office's far wall. Once there'd been darts to go along with it, but they were long gone. The pen made a poor substitute, bouncing off and skittering along the floor, but at least it let her vent her frustration. With a sigh, Gillian pulled a new pen from the box beside her, flipping it from hand to hand as she thought.
Why the hell did you go so far? She glared at scribbled map of the robot's path. What were you looking for? You were supposed to be mining out the clean ice around here, not scouting the edge of the territory.
Her best guess was that it started when the robot's connection to the base computer had been interrupted, and its mapping software got confused. Which shouldn't happen, not when it got its navigation updates from satellites, but then there was the weird static that had messed up her radio too. Perhaps that was why it had started to wander south, looking for a stronger navigation signal?
Even so, it didn't explain how the robot had gotten to where she found it. That just made no sense, and no amount of poring over her maps of the area around the farm could make it match up.
Unless... maybe, if it hadn't moved itself, that would explain it. Gillian frowned at that thought. Could a dragon have lifted the robot and carried it away, dropped it where she found it? That might explain the other damage to the robot's hull. Thinking back to the tears in the hull, they seemed about right for a dragon's talons — and, heavy as the robot was, she could believe that a dragon could lift it. Maybe.
But why? That was a question she couldn't answer. Maybe Zardan could, but she resisted the urge to ask him about it. She knew nothing about him except that he was injured and needed his rest. She could wait until he had recovered before pestering him with questions.
And given how confusing being near Zardan was, avoiding him seemed like the safe option anyway. Gillian tried to get the memory of his perfect body out of her mind and turned back to her work.
6
Zardan
Zardan rested his eyes, lying back in an uncomfortable haze of pain. He wasn't sure how long that lasted, only that he needed longer to recover from these injuries and it wasn't going to be easy.
But as soon as I'm up and about, I'll get out of here, he promised himself. The longer I'm here the harder it'll be to go.
A noise at the doorway interrupted his mordant thoughts, and he forced his eyes open again. His heart fell when he saw that it wasn't Gillian standing there but Harry, peering nervously around the door frame.
I don't suppose I can avoid talking to the humans for the whole time I'm here, he admitted to himself, sitting up and wincing.
"Do you, um, want something to eat?" the small human asked nervously, looking as though he expected to be chased from the room. But his question made Zardan aware of just how hungry he was, and he nodded.
"Thank you," Zardan said. "I will need food to recover,"
A smile flashed across Harry's face and he vanished again, only to return with a plate of something. Zardan supposed that it could be called food, technically. It certainly looked like it held some nutrients, but there was nothing appetizing about it. He groaned at the sight — and the smell! — but took the plate anyway. I'm sure I've eaten worse in the field, he told himself, though he couldn't remember when.
"Sorry," Harry said worriedly. "I just reheated a ration pack, they're a lot better than they look. Gillian's the one who can actually make something nice."
"Thank you," Zardan said, taking the plate with an effort. He hoped it tasted better than it smelled, too, but didn't hold out much hope. Still, that was no reason to be ungracious. "I mean no insult to your cooking, youngling. You're doing the best you can with what you have."
Taking a spoonful of the mush Harry offered him, he forced himself to eat it without flinching. It wasn't good, by any means, but his body was ravenous and before he knew it he'd cleaned the plate. Harry watched in what Zardan could only describe as awe.
"I'm only eating," Zardan growled as he finished. "It's not that impressive."
The small human blushed and took the empty plate. "I've just never seen anyone eat that much of my cooking that fast."
That made Zardan laugh and then wince in pain. His lungs hadn't recovered yet, and any movement hurt his wings. Quietly, trying not to set off another painful movement, he continued. "Thank you for the food, young man."
"Not a problem," Harry said. "So, ah, what was that about you saving my sister?"
Zardan looked at him, weighing his words.
"Ask her about it," he said eventually. "I just stepped in to do what I could."
"But that makes you a hero," Harry insisted. "I want to hear all about it!"
"I'm sure you do," Zardan growled. "But I don't want to talk about it, so I won't."
It was hard enough to think about it without verbalizing his feelings. Trying to tell Gillian's brother what had happened would be madness. Zardan tried to turn his thoughts away from Gillian, but that proved to be almost impossible. His dragon soul called out for her and filled him with joy at the thought of being near her, making all the pain he was in worth it.
This is ridiculous. She isn't my mate. She can't be.
But telling himself that did nothing to change the way he felt. The certainty in his dragon soul when he thought of the human female was undeniable. Try as he might to doubt it, he was fighting a losing battle.
Zardan started as Harry touched his shoulder, and it took an effort to restrain the urge to snap the human's wrist. He realized he'd been staring into space, and he didn't know for how long.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, seemingly oblivious to the danger he'd put himself in.
"No, I'm not," Zardan snapped, then grimaced at the flinch that got from the human. He's only trying to help. "My apologies. I'm in pain, and that makes my temper short. But I will recover, and then I'll be out of your hair."
