Firestorm: Galaxy On Fire, Book 3

by Craig Robertson

  “Is that supposed to be funny? It isn’t, but I’d like to understand your mind better,” menaced Cala.

  “Trust me, you don’t,” said Mirraya. “It’s like looking into a kaleidoscope of teenage antics.”

  “I believe this,” she replied.

  “What I’m saying is I can protect them just as well,” I clarified. “And I can teach them everything they need to know to be totally bitching adults. Trust me, I’ve done it many times before.”

  Cala rose and partially spread her wings. She was feeling passionate. “I have raised a thousand children. I have mentored ten thousand young minds, crafted them into forces to be reckoned with. I am a master of all I see and touch. Do not insult us both by presuming to have such credentials, human.” The ground sort of shook as she spoke. Impressive.

  “A, if you’re such a good teacher, why are all of the Deft dead except for you and the two I saved? B, I think you need an injection of get-over-yourself-acillin like yesterday. C, how about we ask the kids what they want to do, thunder tongue?” I found I was standing, my arms raised.

  Cala slumped into her dragon-fitting chair. “Thunder tongue? How is it you never stop amazing me, human? No one has called me that in centuries, but I once was given that name. I was Thunder Tongue.”

  “Lucky guess?” I asked more than stated.

  “I’m beginning to think luck and Ryan have nothing to do with each other.” She looked like someone her size had sucker punched her in the belly. Totally weird.

  “Who gave you the name?” I asked to break the building tension.

  “My dear sweet mate, when we were their age.” She nodded at the teens. “So long ago.”

  “Where is Joric, by the way?” asked Mirraya reverently.

  “He’s gone.”

  “Gone? Where?” she pressed.

  “Gone as in died, child.”

  “But I thought you said you two holloned?”

  “We did, long ago.”

  “But if he’s dead, why are you still, excuse me for being frank, still so big? You’re more than twice the size of any adult I’ve ever seen.”

  “His body was not his to take, only his self,” Cala replied sadly.

  Slapgren looked like he was going to be ill. “He died inside you? I … I don’t think I …”

  “Easy, child. It’s perfectly natural. Don’t work yourself up over it.” She turned to me. “You see, this is why they must remain with me. I must teach them much they could never figure out on their own.”

  Dragon had a point there.

  “Cala,” ask Mirri quietly, “how can you keep his body material, his, you know, his organs?”

  Cala chuckled at that. “The questions children ask. I never cease wondering. He did not leave his body in me. We had one body. He left our body when he died. As to his organs, as you so delicately put it, those remain but are unused.”

  “Ah, are we talking about sex again?” Slapgren asked uncertainly.

  “Yes, child. This time we are,” replied Cala with a chuckle. “We hadn’t bred for quite some time. We may have been quite the couple, but some matters are best left to the young.”

  “Are there other things we can talk about?” asked Slapgren.

  “Yes, child,” she responded and looked at me knowingly.

  “Can you still change?” asked Mirri.

  “Yes, I suppose so. But why would I?”

  “You know,” Mirri stammered. “You changed into that,” she pointed at Cala. “Why haven’t you changed back?”

  That brought even more laughter from Cala.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny about that question,” said a miffed Mirri.

  “Child, you do not know?” Cala spread her golden wings to their fullest. “This is our final adult form.”

  “No,” responded Slapgren slack jawed. “Our parents were the final adult form of Deft. Why would you say you are? Are you nuts?”

  “No, I am not. Your parents, the adults you lived with, are only a transitional manifestation of our species. Yes, many do not make it to this stage. But this is the full adult form of a Deft.”

  “If that’s the true adult form, how come I never saw one on Locinar?” challenged Mirraya.

  “There are better places to be and superior things to do than remain on that world or any others we have populated over the millennia. Surely you saw images of large dragons. Did you go to the temples?”

  “No, not regularly,” she replied. “I always assumed those dragon images were just flights of fancy, decorations.”

  “And now you know the whole of it,” Cala returned gently.

  “But, seriously, there were none back home. This is crazy,” said Slapgren.

  “We will talk of this in time. Now is not right. There is much you must know before you can understand the whys of it.”

  “I know a hell of a lot,” I piped in. “Try me.”

  She slowly shook her large head. “Amongst the humans were there pressures between the young and the old?”

  “What do you mean, pressures?”

  “Antipathy, divergence, or conflicts.”

  I shrugged. “Sure, I guess. The young always think they know everything and want the old folks to move over and let them drive the car.”

  “A crude but functional comparison. Over time, the intermediate form of the Deft grew to resent, then abhor this form. They fancied they were the sophisticated, more acceptable example of the ultimate Deft. Hollon became a foul word not to use in mixed company. We who made the change grew to become unwelcome by our own children.”

  “Sounds pretty human to me. Maybe we’re related too?” I said darkly.

  “Now, let’s not get vulgar, Jon. There are children present.”

  We both had to giggle over that. Cala might have been massive, scaly, and pushy, but she was all right in my book. The pout on Mirri’s face was also priceless.

  “So. Mirri, what do you think?” I asked her directly. “Do you want to stay and learn how to be a good Deft or do you want to hang with your Uncle Jon? I was looking forward to teaching you to spit, to race cars, and to be a complete pain in the ass.”

  Before she could respond, Cala jumped in. “She may answer that question, but the children will remain. If they resist it, I will force them. In time, they will appreciate that my actions are in their best interests.”

  “And if I resist it?” I said mega-badass style.

  “You will not. If I choose to, which I don’t, I could kill you. But you will flee because you wish to. You will do so very soon, in fact.”

  “You sound abundantly confidant. I’ve heard that from many just-about-to-be-dead enemies of mine.”

  “I am neither blustering nor threatening. I state facts.”

  “If you’re so damn powerful, why didn’t you rescue the kids? For that matter, why don’t you raise a wing and wipe out the Adamant?”

  She glowered at me. It was as intimidating as all get out. Tough bitch, that one.

  “As to why I don’t eradicate the Adamant, even I am not that strong.”

  “Don’t know if you don’t try,” I chided.

  She breathed deeply. “I did and I failed. That was how Joric died.”

  “Uh, sorry. What happened?” I do hate it when I step into a pile of doggy doodoo.

  “Nothing I’d like to revisit with you, thank you very much. We fought, I lived, Joric was killed. That’s why I have hidden in wait here on Rameeka Blue Green ever since,” she nodded toward the teens, “waiting for them.”

  “Wow. You can’t tell me you knew the kids would end up here. They had zero control over where they landed.”

  “You are free to believe what you will.”

  “How long have you been here on Rameeka?” I asked, still stunned.

  “Rameeka Blue Green,” Cala corrected.

  “Why Blue Green? That’s a silly name?

  “I’m not in charge of reality, I simply bring you up to speed with it.”

  I let the
planet name drop. “How long?”

  “Four hundred of your years.”

  “Yeah, right. You waited four hundred years on this lousy rock because you knew two teens whose grand parents weren’t born yet would arrive here in need of your help?”

  “Yes. I’m surprised you grasp so much.”

  “I don’t. I was being sarcastic.”

  “I know. I was being so myself.”

  “Just what my plate needs. A sarcastic dragon.”

  “Gods of the Left Power, you two bicker like my parents. Are you sure you’re not secretly married or something?” asked Slapgren.

  “Pretty sure,” I replied with a wink.

  “Absolutely certain,” responded the dragon. “I know many impossibilities that have come to pass, but that particular one will remain impossible.”

  I smacked my lips and air kissed Cala. I don’t think it made her smile on the inside.

  “You still haven’t told me why you didn’t cut out the middle man and save the kids yourself. Hell, you could have saved lots of Deft while you were at it.”

  “For one thing, I did not know you were to be the agent of their salvation.”

  “You knew they’d plop down here, but you didn’t know I’d be responsible? That’s rich.”

  “It is also the truth. A brindas may know some matters of the future, but not its entirety.”

  “Swiss-cheese foresight?”

  “You might call it that.”

  “So how is it you can predict with such certainty I am about to voluntarily turn tail and run when I’m kind of betting I’m not?”

  “Because you will want to leave before the other Jon Ryan gets here.”

  “No way he’s coming. There’s absolutely no way he could have followed me.”

  “Perhaps you can tell him that tomorrow when he arrives.”

  “Your swiss-cheese powers tell you this?” I snarked.

  “No. This I know for certain. I sense his approach.”

  “Oh, you mean his magic, the magic one of you witches was dumb enough to teach him?”

  She growled at my remark. It was a scary sound, trust me.

  “That is offensive on so many levels. I should kill you.”

  “But you won’t,” interrupted Mirri. “You will answer Uncle Jon’s questions honestly. My agreeing to stay might well depend on the quality of your response.”

  Cala growled more softly. I don’t think she appreciated being told what to do any more than I did.

  “I am a brindas. I do what you, Jon Ryan, call magic. It is not, but you see it as such. This evil one can no more perform magic than that empty bowl.” She pointed a wingtip at Slapgren’s empty bowl.

  “Oh yes he can, trust me. He zapped me a long way. He even traveled through time to save the humans.”

  She shut her eyes, suggesting impatience. “He possesses a rune. It is the rune that allows him to travel.”

  “A rune? You’ve got to be kidding. All he’s got is a rock in his pocket?”

  “It is so much more than a rock. He wields Varsir. There is only one. It allows its holder to move in space or time. But it is limited in its scope and difficult to power. He is an abomination and a defiler.”

  “And you sense Varsir coming?” I asked.

  “It is.”

  “Then when they both arrive, you can kill two birds for one stone. Off him and take back Varsir.”

  She shook her head. “It is not that easy.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” I said, wrapping my fingers behind my head.

  “Dondra-Ulcrif gave it to him. She was a legendary brindas from the time of your birth.”

  “You mean they, right?”

  “No, I mean she. It is complicated, and it is unimportant that you understand. That other you chanced to meet her long ago. His story so pulled at her heart that she lent him Varsir to re-alter the tragedy.” Cala shook her head again. “It was a foolish act, but it was done.”

  “Foolish to save my species?” I snapped.

  “Yes. To allow a defiler to return to the distant past to re-alter reality is inexcusable, no matter what the cost.”

  “You and I will have to agree to disagree on that point,” I hissed.

  “You know, Jon, I hate that expression. I really do. If you ever use it again, I will burn you to a crisp.”

  “What?” I protested.

  “It assumes there exist more than one reality, more than one set of facts.”

  “But there are. He went back in time and—”

  “Re-altered reality. That is different from establishing a different one.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Back to an important topic,” I said. “Why can’t you kill him and keep the rune?”

  “She lent it to him for a purpose. I was not party to either giving, receiving, or purposing the transfer. So, I am not free or even able to alter the pact.”

  “That’s the silliest circular illogic I’ve ever heard,” I responded. “You’re bigger than him. You step on his head and it’s a done deal, that’s what it is.”

  “Do you wish me to repeat it in a matter you need not understand?”

  “Who can break the deal?” I asked loudly.

  “Only the involved parties.”

  “What’s her name has got to be dead by now.”

  “Sadly, Dondra-Ulcrif died almost two billion years ago.” She gestured a massive wing at me. “Only you can alter the deal, as you call it. You or the defiler.”

  “Huh,” I grunted, “not likely he’ll show up and hand it over to you, is it?”

  “Not hardly,” she agreed. “Hence you must take it from him and give it to me.”

  I wagged my head. “Oh, just like that. Maybe if I say please, I can just pull it off?”

  She glared at me rather than voicing a response.

  “Seriously, the last time I was near him, he shot me across space like I was a radio show.”

  “He will not do that again.” She reached into a fold of scales. She held her claw-hand to me. “This is Risrav. It is the counter rune to Varsir. As long as you hold it, his power cannot work on you.”

  I took the rock, because it was a plain old rock. “Totally cool. Where have you been all my life, beautiful?” Then a thought struck. “Wait, doesn’t this violate the deal I’m supposed to undo?”

  She wagged her head side to side. “We shall see.”

  “Whoa, nellie. We’ll see? I might still get zapped?”

  “It is unlikely.”

  “Make me feel all warm and fuzzy. I’m not actually down with we’ll see when it comes to me being in one piece.”

  “The way I see it, it is just a part of the original deal, a codicil if you will.”

  “A what-a-cil?” stammered Slapgren.

  “A condition, child,” Cala soothed. “If you return both runes to me, I think the original pact will be fulfilled and terminated.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then the universe will end explosively,” she said with a remarkably straight face.

  “You’re sh … kidding me? No way I’m signing onto that.”

  “Jon,” she said seriously, “I’m kidding.”

  She was what? Did dragons pull other’s chains? How should I know?

  “Worst case scenario, you have to keep both runes,” she said. “One was lent you by my former, and one by me.”

  “But I don’t want two magic rocks.”

  “That’s the worst case, Jon. I’m betting it won’t come to that. I doubt they’ll fuse with your skin permanently.”

  I shook a finger at her. “Hah. Very funny. You’re kidding again.”

  “No, I’m not.” She smiled. Who knew dragons could smile?

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Jon had been hovering near Excess of Nothing for over a week. Nothing had happened. He was beginning to think the dead Adamant’s suggestion about the Deft was plain hooey. It was probably just that stupid pa
nicky crap torture victims tended to spew out toward the end. Why did he believe him? Jon wished he could revive the Adamant and kill him again only more miserably. Hey, he could travel back in time and do just that. Nah, move on, he told himself. Butchering the Adamant wouldn’t help him find his Deft.

  Of course, his possessions could be on the damn ship. How would he know from the outside? It wasn’t like the brain-dead emperor would turn on a special colored light to announce the fact to the universe. There’d been no chatter from the ship either. But maybe there wouldn’t be. It would be illogical to gossip about a secret operation, wouldn’t it? Crap.

  If nothing happened in the next week or so, Jon’d rethink this plan. His only other option was to raid Excess of Nothing himself to see if the Deft were there. That would be risky. It’d tip his hand to the numbskull-goodie-two-shoes Ryan if the moron were to come along. Crap on a stick, hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. It made Jon hate his twin all that more. Of course, everything made Jon hate his double all that more, because that Ryan was a pussy and a traitor, and he couldn’t kill him soon enough.

  “Captain,” said his AI in the pre-programmed monotone it used, “I detect a disturbance on Excess of Nothing.”

  “Specify.”

  “A tremor affecting the entire hull occurred ten seconds ago. Then a series of explosions began deep within the ship.”

  “Speculations?”

  “No reliable ones. It is possible there is simply a localized accident.”

  “Adamant don’t allow accidents. No, whatever’s happening is being caused by someone.” He thought a few seconds. “Do you see any indications of incoming flight, an ion trail, for example?”

  “Not per se.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I pay you to provide information not play twenty questions.”

  “A linear column of space-time disturbance did intersect the ship, and I see no traces of its subsequent exit.”

  “Here’s the deal. I count to three. When I’m done, you tell me something useful or I’ll rip you out like I did your predecessor.”

  “My fifty-seven predecessors, you mean?”

  “Three.”

  “It is possible a warp bubble entered but did not exit the craft.”