by Piers Platt
Now all it can do is show you the plain old map, dummy.
Falken shook his head. “Where are they headed?” he asked.
“East, toward you. I think they’re going to come between you and the research center, I’m afraid.”
“Understood,” Falken replied.
“What does that mean?” Ed asked, pausing in the midst of buckling his seatbelt.
“It means the dragons are going to be out,” Vina said. “They’re going to be hunting.”
“Yeah,” Falken agreed. He looked up at the sky. The darkest clouds had passed well to the north of them, and the area around the mountain ahead was already looking brighter, less gray. There goes our rain cover.
Falken twisted in the seat and said, “We’re going to do this right, because we’ve only got one shot at it. Okay?”
In the seats behind him, his passengers nodded, and he could see the fear in their eyes.
“We’re going to be as quiet as possible, for as long as possible, and get as close as we can to the research center. But they will hear us. They always do.”
“What do we do when they come?” Raynard asked.
“Haul ass and try to keep them off of us,” Falken said. “Call them out when you see them, so I can try to dodge them. We’ll just have to hope we can outrun them.”
“You’re sure the rescue ship won’t get here in time? We can’t just stay here and try to make our oxygen last?” Ed asked.
Before Falken could answer, Kuda gasped audibly, and everyone turned to look at him. He tried to suck in another breath, and then another, before pulling off his oxygen mask, shaking his head. Greban handed him a spare mask, and Kuda pulled it over his face and took a deep breath, nodding gratefully.
“Does that answer your question?” Falken asked.
“Wait!” Vina grabbed Falken’s shoulder. “The proxies.” She pointed to the ground, and the pile of half-eaten proxy parts. “We should bring some.”
Falken’s eyes lit up. “You’re right. Good call.” He pushed his door open and hopped down, grabbing the first pair of legs and tossing them over his shoulder with a grunt.
“Why?” Kuda asked.
“Because we can use them as bait,” Vina said. “Better if the dragons eat those and not us, right?”
“Oh,” Kuda said. “Right.”
Falken, laboring under the weight of the extra-heavy legs, stacked three pairs in the front seat next to him. Then he climbed back onto the truck, set his noise cancellation staff on the seat next to him, and buckled in.
“Here we go.”
The ground was still wet from the rain, and the hoverfans threw up a fine, misting spray as they drove away from the Ecolympus. Greban twisted in his seat to look at the ship one last time before it disappeared behind them, a forlorn look on his face.
Raynard patted him on the knee. “You’ll get her up in the air again, right?”
“No more talking,” Falken warned them.
Chagrined, Raynard mouthed: Sorry.
The truck sounded loud to Falken’s practiced ears – he reached over and checked to make sure the vehicle’s noise cancellation was active, and that the staff beside him was still on, too.
They’re on … but the truck’s system isn’t working quite right. That big female must have jacked it up somehow. And the staff isn’t enough to make up for it. We’re running loud.
He twisted the radio volume knob, turning it down all the way, just in case they received a call. Then he focused on driving. In the seats behind him, the rest of the group kept their eyes looking up, watching the sky for any sign of approaching dragons. After two minutes, Raynard coughed, choking, and pulled off his mask. He grabbed another of the spare kits, holding it to his face and breathing deeply for several seconds. He gave Greban a thumbs-up soon afterwards.
Just one mask left, Falken thought. Then we start buddy breathing.
Falken reached a fork in the road and slowed down. He pinched in on the map on the truck’s display, checking the route briefly.
Yeah, okay … decision time. Go straight at the mountain, or take the longer route down by the river.
He felt a tapping on his shoulder, and looked up. Vina leaned over his shoulder, silently pointing toward the mountain. Falken squinted, and saw a dark shape gliding out of the aerie. It was headed away from them, but the sight of it was enough to convince Falken.
River it is.
He swerved onto the road on the left, and then guided the truck down a trail that descended sharply past several sets of towering rock columns. Behind him, he heard Ed discard his mask, and pick up the final spare. Greban pulled his own mask off a moment later, and Raynard held out his mask, offering it to Greban.
… and we’re buddy breathing already. Fuck.
Falken took a moment to look down at his own tank, but the gauge was still showing a small amount of pressure left.
I took a fresh one before I left to go get the truck, so I should be the last one to run out. Let’s hope I can hang on until we get to the research center …
The gravel trail reached the river, and Falken turned left, following the course of the river, heading upstream toward the mountain. Next to them, white water rushed between the rocks and boulders, and the noise of the river was nearly enough to drown out the truck’s hoverfans.
Nearly. Let’s hope those fauns are making a big fucking racket over at the mountain.
Falken risked a little more speed, sweating as he threaded the narrow path along the rocky riverbank. The front bumper grazed a boulder at one point, jolting them harshly in their seats; Falken winced.
Careful! This thing’s already beat up enough – can’t take much more damage.
Out of the corner of his eye, Falken checked the truck’s diagnostic dashboard, scanning the various dials.
Fan speed looks good. Engine temps are okay. Power’s low. Falken frowned. The batteries haven’t been charged since yesterday, but we’ve barely put any miles on it. Better keep an eye on that.
The road opened up slightly, and Falken glanced over his shoulder, checking on his passengers. In the top row, Shep and Kuda were buddy breathing together now, while Greban and Raynard shared a mask in the middle row. Directly behind Falken, Vina had managed to nurse her bottle along – she was still wearing her original mask, though Ed looked ready to share his spare with her when needed. Vina’s hand, gripping the back of Falken’s seat, was sheet-white. Through her mask, Vina shot Falken a nervous smile. Then Ed waved urgently, and pointed up into the sky.
Falken looked up, and spotted a small dot in the distance, just barely visible against the mountain behind it. For a second, Falken thought the dragon was hovering in place, and then he realized that it was merely an illusion: the dragon was heading directly toward them. Then the dragon seemed to split apart.
Two of them.
No … three.
Chapter 18
Captain Muir found Talus in the Liberty Belle’s cafeteria, eating a half-peeled banana.
“Just a banana? Did you already eat breakfast back at Harrison’s?” she asked him, digging through one of the cabinets along the wall for a meal packet.
The pilot shook his head. “I’m not really hungry. Nervous, I guess.”
“Ah,” she said. “Right.” She slid the packet into a food preparation unit. Several seconds later it dinged at her and a bowl of steaming oatmeal emerged on a tray. Muir carried the tray over to Talus’ table and sat down across from him.
“Weird being in here at mealtime without any guests,” he said. “How long has it been since we made an Olympus run just the two of us?”
Muir poured cream and maple syrup over the oatmeal, thinking. “Good question. We made that emergency trip to bring medicine to one of the Adrenaline Junkies’ guests that time. Four or five years ago, maybe?”
“Oh, yeah,” Talus said. “She had that fungal infection in her lungs that went around the colonies; she was coughing spores all over her cabin. They had to quara
ntine off half the ship to treat her.”
“It was ugly,” Muir agreed. She checked her wristpad as she stirred her oatmeal.
Talus saw her checking the display, and cleared his throat. “ETA a little after noon, local time?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Muir agreed. “You want to talk about the plan when we get in?”
Talus nodded reluctantly. “I guess we better.”
“Okay. When we punch in, before we do anything else, I want to check in with Hylie. Knock on wood, Greban and Falken are alive down there, and Hylie’s managed to get in touch with them, so we know what we’re up against. Who’s hurt, who’s not, what state the ship is in, etc. But worst case, Hylie can at least give us the coordinates where the Ecolympus went down.”
“What if Hylie hasn’t been able to talk to them? We’re still going down to the surface?”
“We’re still going down to the surface,” Muir confirmed. “Could be their radios are busted, but they’re still alive. We need to see for ourselves.”
“Okay,” Talus said.
Muir took a bite of oatmeal, and swallowed. “If Hylie’s up for it – and I’d be surprised if she isn’t – I want to see if she and Quiss can give us a hand. Either directing their proxies on the ground, or we might even dock and have them transfer over to the Liberty Belle and come down to the surface with us. But either way, I’d like a few extra folks at the crash site. Four of us are going to be way more effective – and safe – than just two of us.”
“Makes sense. What’s the plan when we get on the ground?”
“The plan is to haul ass.” Muir’s eyes narrowed, and she stared into the distance. “Back before you started, when I was piloting for Sava, we made a surface rescue mission, she and I. This was back when the research center had a bigger staff, and they used to make excursions every once in a while outside.”
“Outside? Not using proxies?”
“No, in their real, actual bodies,” Muir confirmed.
“Were they insane?” Talus asked.
“They were warned, but they didn’t listen. And two of them got cornered in a cave a few hundred yards from the research center, with a half dozen dragons waiting for them to come out.”
“You guys had to land to get them out?”
“We did,” Muir said. “And we learned some things the hard way. The most important thing is to get in and out as fast as possible. Every minute we’re on the ground our risk goes up exponentially.”
“What happened?” Talus asked.
“We landed, and scared the dragons off with the ship’s siren – sound is about the only weapon that’s even mildly effective on them, aside from cannon shells. And then we tried to coax the two researchers out of their hole. But one of them was basically in shock, and refused to come out. He wouldn’t believe us when we said there were no dragons outside the cave.”
“What did you do?”
“We got the first scientist aboard in a minute or two, but the second just would not come out. Sava went in after him, tried to haul him out, but he fought her off. The dragons came back and started tearing up the ship, and Sava barely made it back – she got a nasty wound for her trouble. I made the decision to take off to get her treated.” Muir shook her head. “The other researcher died in the cave. His oxygen ran out while we were up in orbit.”
“Did the dragons damage the ship?”
“They tore up the armor pretty good. They might have been able to break something critical if we stayed much longer,” Muir said.
Talus pursed his lips. “How long were you on the ground?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“That’s not much time,” Talus said.
“No,” Muir agreed. “So once we start our descent and clear through the drone patrol screen, I need you driving hard for the crash site. Just nose down, straight at it, full speed, okay?”
“Got it.”
“I want to be geared up before we fly in – oxygen masks, noise cancellation staffs, the whole deal,” Muir continued. “That way we’re not wasting time suiting up on the ground. Can you fly with all that on?”
“Sure. I’ll fly in a dress and high heels if you think it will keep us safer.”
Muir smiled. “We scoot in, set down as close to the Ecolympus as we can. Out the back ramp, over to the closest hatch, and get inside. Find whoever’s still alive – if anyone – gather them up, and help them across to the Liberty Belle.”
“And if they’re injured?” Talus asked.
“We carry them. May need to be a couple of us carrying, the other ones keeping a lookout. Now remember: if Quiss and Hylie have their proxies in the area, you need to be able to distinguish them from the survivors on the Ecolympus.”
“The proxies will be green,” Talus said.
“Right. Let them feed the dragons, if it comes to it, you just worry about the survivors, and your own butt.” Muir tapped on her wristpad, and a vidscreen at the front of the cafeteria sprang to life. “This is who we’re looking for.”
Greban’s face appeared on the screen, and then Falken’s soon afterward.
“Greban and Falken you know – that takes care of the crew. They only had five pax this trip, and all of them flew in with us, so they should all look familiar.” The screen changed again, and a passport photo of a brunette woman appeared. “Here’s Vina, the only woman. Male guests are: Raynard, Edmark, Shep, and Kuda.”
“The two brothers,” Talus nodded. “I remember.”
“Seven total,” Muir said.
“Right. And we gotta find them and pull them out in under twenty minutes.”
Muir set her spoon down in the empty bowl. Talus was playing with his empty banana peel, twisting it slowly between his fingers. “You okay?” she asked.
Talus took a deep breath. “I guess so.”
“Listen,” Muir said. “I’m scared, too. But this is our job. And they’re counting on us to do it.”
Talus nodded, then met Muir’s gaze. “You’re scared, too?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “The first time wasn’t any fun. I don’t imagine this will be, either.”
Suddenly, the ship shuddered, and Muir’s empty tray slid across the table toward the bow of the ship.
“What was that?” Muir asked.
“Felt like a deceleration,” Talus said frowning.
Muir checked her wristpad. “We’re still forty minutes out from Olympus. Did we just punch out of FTL early?”
“I don’t know,” Talus said, standing up.
From the bridge a level above, they heard warning klaxons sounding. Then they heard a sharp, metallic clang, and the ship trembled, as if from an impact.
“What the hell was that?” Talus asked, his frown deepening.
“Get to the bridge!” Muir shouted. “Go!”
Chapter 19
Falken took one look at the three dragons flying toward the truck, and then swerved away from the exposed river, steering the truck back up into the rock formations. With his free hand, he gestured toward the disembodied proxy legs in the front passenger seat. Ed, understanding, reached forward and grabbed the first pair, and then labored to pass it back to the brothers. He handed another set to Greban and Raynard, and then set the final pair of legs on the seat between him and Vina.
Falken had lost sight of the dragons when he left the river – he had been concentrating on finding the road again, and in the short span of time that he looked away, they had disappeared behind a rock column. They were close by the mountain now, the steep, moss-covered sides towering above them. But the research center, Falken knew, was on the far side of the mountain, and several wide spurs of rock stood in their way. When he found the path again, Falken checked the map once more.
About two miles out.
Vina tapped him repeatedly on the shoulder, and Falken tore his eyes off the map – one of the dragons was flying close overhead, appearing to inspect the truck. Falken jerked his thumb at the bloody legs on the seat next to her, and w
ith an effort, Vina and Ed managed to lift them, and toss them over the side. The dragon peeled off immediately, dipping a wing and dropping into a steep dive to pounce on the legs.
Let’s hope he’s a slow eater.
Falken spotted an oddly-shaped stone formation up ahead, and for a moment, he flashed back to his encounter with the huge female. But this object turned out to be merely rocks, eroded by some unseen force – the massive female was nowhere to be seen.
She ate a truck full of Adrenaline Junkies guests. She’s gotta be full … right?
A shout of alarm broke through Falken’s reverie – another dragon was diving right at them, from the left side. Falken braked hard, throwing off the creature’s aim – instead of landing amongst the seats, its claws scraped across the truck’s hood, and Falken felt its wings beat the air over his head. It slid across the truck and tumbled in a leathery heap to the ground on the far side of the truck. Falken jammed the accelerator down. He lost sight of the dragon in the wet spray from the hoverfans.
“Another on the right!” Vina called.
Falken jerked the wheel, and a set of claws closed over the empty space where Ed’s head had just been. The older man screamed in fear, but Greban, just behind him, heaved the second set of proxy legs out of the truck. The dragon’s head whipped around, scenting the proxy legs, and it broke off its pursuit to investigate.
They rounded a wide, sloping finger of rock at the base of the mountain at full speed, the truck’s fans whining in protest. Falken risked another glance at the map on the display screen.
Just a little farther.
“Air!” Kuda gasped. In the chaos of the sudden attack, Shep had forgotten to pass him the oxygen bottle they were sharing. He took several deep breaths, and then passed it back to his brother.
The truck sped past a thick rock column, and suddenly Falken felt a jarring impact – one of the dragons must have been waiting in ambush behind the formation, and had pounced on them as they passed by. Falken swore and turned the wheel hard right, then left, and then right again, but the dragon’s claws were sunk deep into the side of the truck, and it held on tight, using its wings for balance.
