Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing

by George R. Shirer

  He glared at her, but didn’t argue. Turning, he started walking into the forest. She followed, head lowered, focusing on the blinking lights of the air-sled. The wind shrieked, plucking at her long hair and her cloak. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through her system as it adjusted to the cold, reacted to her stress. She could feel the skin on her face contracting, the pores sealing up in an effort to conserve precious body heat.

  They staggered through the storm, the airfield visible now, a white blaze shining through the trees. Epcott stopped before they reached it and Uqqex staggered next to him. She leaned in, close to his helmet.

  “What’s going on?” She had to shout to be heard over the storm.

  “Transport’s coming in wild,” Epcott shouted back.

  “Where?” Lifting her head, she tried to peer through the frenzied waving of the knotlimb branches.

  Epcott hesitated, and Uqqex squinted against the landing field’s lights. Her eyes were adapted for the harsh brightness of her homeworld. She spotted the transport, clutched Epcott’s arm.

  “There!”

  Soon, the transport came into view. It was low, skimming the treetops, its teardrop body emitting erratic pulses of scarlet light. Without warning, it smashed through the trees and ploughed into the airfield. Its momentum caused it to sled through the thigh-high snow.

  Uqqex heard Epcott utter what she assumed was a human obscenity as the transport plowed into one of the airfield’s illuminators. The tower folded with a scream of twisting metal, and the entire airfield was plunged into darkness. The only light sources were Epcott’s warmsuit and the blinking lights of the air-sled.

  Primal fear clawed at Uqqex’s mind. She clenched her fists and stuck close to Epcott, as the man hurried toward the crash site.

  As they drew near the transport, Uqqex saw that its hull was badly distorted. She could see cracks spiraling around the vehicle from one end to the other. As she stood there, she saw another start to appear.

  “John!” She grabbed his shoulder, pointed at the hull.

  Epcott swore again and hurried to the vehicle. It had landed, thankfully, on its belly. The hatch was accessible, pale light spilling around its edges. He pounded on it.

  After a second, the hatch shifted, opened. Uqqex caught a glimpse of a Junian girl standing in the doorway, looking pale and terrified. Epcott pushed past her, into the transport and Uqqex followed.

  Inside, the transport’s illuminators were flickering. Epcott was at the front of the vehicle, at the control panel, slapping the board. The lights flickered once more, and then died. Uqqex heard someone release a frightened cry. She wasn’t sure if it was the girl or herself.

  Emergency illuminators activated, casting wan light over the transport’s interior. Uqqex saw the girl again, standing with her arms wrapped around a small child. The girl had shoulder-length dark blue hair and the bland, pretty face of a porcelain doll. Her eyes were red from crying, and there was vomit staining the shoulder of her shirt.

  The child in her arms was keening, its face buried against the girl’s chest. Uqqex couldn’t tell the toddler’s gender, but from the noise it was making she assumed it was fine.

  She turned back to the front of the transport. Epcott was kneeling between the pilot and copilot’s seats. The youth in the pilot’s chair didn’t look any older than the girl. In the dim light, his face was pale and drawn. Epcott had his hand on the boy’s knee, speaking to him. Uqqex couldn’t hear what Epcott said, over the roar of the storm, but she saw the youth nod. Epcott stood.

  “Uqqex, would you bring in the warmsuit? And the thermal blankets?”

  She nodded, fighting an instinctive reluctance to venture into the dark. A few moments later, the youth who had been piloting the craft was wearing the second warmsuit. It fit him badly, Epcott being at least a head taller.

  They loaded the girl and the child onto the air-sled, wrapping them in the thermal blankets. Epcott rummaged through the transport’s storage bins and produced another emergency medical case and several pressure-torches. He passed the torches to Uqqex, who clutched them tightly, causing them to spill warm light across the snow. They retraced their path to the house as quickly as possible.

  * * * * *

  The wallscreen was flashing pink and blue when they stumbled into the house. “Priority Comm from Emergency Authority,” declared the housebrain.

  “Connect,” snapped Epcott.

  The image of an older man with pale skin and large features appeared on the screen. His dark red hair was going gray at the roots. He wore the blue and pink uniform of a peacekeeper.

  “John, is that you?” The man leaned forward, squinting at his own screen.

  “It’s me, Imzo,” said Epcott, wearily.

  “Your house relayed a distress beacon, then we lost the signal. You all right?”

  “Fine,” said Epcott.

  The peacekeeper nodded. “Was it more newsmakers?”

  “Not this time. I’ve got a crashed transport in my airfield.”

  Imzo frowned. “Anyone wounded?”

  Epcott glanced at the three strangers. “They’re just shook up.”

  “Thank the pantheon,” muttered Imzo. “Listen, John, it’s going to take us a while to get out there. We’re getting distress calls from all over the province. Is it alright if . . . .?”

  “It’s fine,” said Epcott. “Get to us when you can.”

  The peacekeeper nodded. “Good. I’ll contact you before we send out the retrieval crew. It’ll probably be sometime tomorrow morning.”

  “Comm me,” said Epcott. “I’m resetting privacy.”

  The peacekeeper nodded. “Understood. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  The wallscreen went gray, and then vanished, mimicking the color of the surrounding wall. Epcott took a breath, held it for a moment, and then released it. “House, reset privacy, please.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Epcott turned to the crash victims. They stood in a pale, nervous huddle. In the safety of his house, Uqqex thought they looked much younger. She stood behind them, the thermal blankets draped over her arm.

  “Well,” said Epcott, forcing a smile. “I think we can skip formal introductions, until everyone is cleaned up. Right? Right. The wetchamber is this way.”

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later, the crash victims were clean and dressed in borrowed clothing. They settled on the couch, glancing around the room. Uqqex thought the girl and the boy’s eyes were nearly as wide as the child’s was.

  Epcott appeared with a bottle and several cups. He passed the cups out, and then proceeded to fill them, almost to overflowing, from the bottle. Even, Uqqex noted, the child’s cup.

  “So,” said Epcott, squatting on the carpeted floor. “My name is John.” He nodded towards Uqqex. “That’s Uqqex. Who are you three?”

  The young man took a sip from his cup and nearly choked. “What is this?”

  “Sleepwine,” said John. “It’ll calm your nerves and help with gravity sickness.”

  The boy blinked, nodded, and then took a tentative sip. “It’s . . . strong.”

  “It’ll get easier to swallow, the more you drink,” said Epcott. “Now, you are?”

  “I’m Kaz Rom,” said the young man. “That’s my house-sister, Sef, and her son, Tijo.”

  “You’re the Last Human,” blurted out Sef. She sat with her son on her lap. Uqqex noted she had already taken several gulps of the sleepwine.

  “Yes,” said Epcott. He turned back to Kaz. “What happened up there?”

  Kaz frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know. Honestly. We were traveling to Timis Dov, taking a polar route when our contragrav started to fail.”

  Epcott frowned. “Who approved your flight path?”

  “The Transport Authority,” said Kaz. He took another sip of sleepwine, and licked his lips. “You know, you’re right. This is easier to swallow, the more you drink.”

  “Most spirits are,” said Epcott.
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  “Why did you ask about the flight plan?” Sef asked.

  She had drained her cup and now helped her son with his own drink. From the face the child made, Uqqex assumed he didn’t care for sleepwine, despite its restorative qualities.

  “Because you don’t pilot a contragrav transport over the magnetic poles,” said Epcott. “I’m betting that’s what caused your drive to misalign.”

  Kaz stared. “Our drive was misaligned?”

  “Looks that way from the damage to your hull,” said Epcott. “The spiral shearing is a dead giveaway. You’re lucky you didn’t come apart in the air.”

  The tips of Kaz’s fingertips throbbed with blood. “We are?”

  “You are. Still, any landing you can walk away from is a good one.”

  Sef tilted her head. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “It’s a human expression,” explained Epcott.

  The girl nodded, and tightened her grip on her son.

  “You have relatives in Timis Dov?” said Uqqex. “I gave a lecture there, at Hom University last Clearsky.”

  “You’re an instructor?” asked Sef.

  “Just a writer,” said Uqqex. “Timis Dov is a lovely city. All those mountains! And the Valley of a Thousand Pools!”

  “One of our house-fathers has a brother there,” said Kaz. “He’s who we were going to visit.”

  “Oh?” Uqqex smiled. “What’s his name? Timis Dov isn’t that large. Perhaps I met him.”

  “I doubt it,” said Sef.

  “His name is Tez Jesav,” offered Kaz. “He’s one of the city administrators.”

  “Hmm.” Uqqex shook her head. “The name isn’t familiar.”

  On Sef’s lap, Tijo had begun to yawn. His eyelids drooped. Sef plucked the cup of half-empty sleepwine from the child’s slack hands. “He’s exhausted.”

  “I imagine so,” said Epcott. He gathered the cups. “I bet you’re all tired. I’ll show you your bedchamber. Uqqex, do you mind sleeping with me?”

  The Zerraxi woman arched her eyebrows in surprise. “Not at all.”

  “Well, then,” said Epcott, “let’s get these kids tucked in. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

  * * * * *

  The storm raged. Uqqex sat on John’s bed, one of the wallscreen’s displaying a real-time image of the storm outside. The sturdy knotlimbs were swaying in the high winds, making Uqqex think of them as overweight figures, dancing ponderously. It was an amusing thought.

  The door to the bedchamber opened and Epcott stepped inside. “The kids are sound asleep.”

  “Do you believe their story?”

  “Don’t you?”

  She snorted and stroked the side of her nose. “I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

  “Really?”

  “The Zerraxi nose is very sensitive.”

  He sat on the bed, facing the storm. “For what it’s worth, their story didn’t make sense. The Transport Authority would never send a contragrav vehicle over the magnetic poles. What do you think they’re hiding?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think they engineered the crash to meet you?”

  “No. They were shocked when we showed up at the field.”

  Uqqex eyed the bedchamber door. “Do you think they’re dangerous?”

  “No. Just scared.”

  “Yes.” She yawned and shifted on the bed. “Well, as far as weekend getaways go, John, this one hasn’t been boring.”

  He snorted. “I think I’d have preferred boring.”

  Chuckling, she climbed off the bed. “How do you want to sleep?”

  “You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

  She glared at him. “I’m insulted.”

  “What?” Epcott looked at her, confused. “Why?”

  “Do you fear so much for your virtue, John Epcott, that you’d rather sleep on the floor than in bed with me?”

  He blinked. “Um. No?”

  “Liar.” She stroked the bridge of her nose again. “Remember? I have a very sensitive sense of smell. I can tell that you’re uneasy.”

  He fidgeted. “It’s not unease, Uqqex. Not entirely.”

  The Zerraxi woman studied him for a second. “Ah. You’re attracted to me.”

  “What? No! I mean. . . .”

  She glared at him. “You should choose your next words very carefully.”

  “It’s not my virtue that I’m worried about.”

  “Ah! So you are attracted to me.”

  “Uqqex, it’s been over six years since I’ve had sex with anyone. At this point, trees are starting to look attractive to me.”

  “I sincerely hope that last statement was exaggeration.”

  “It was,” said Epcott. “Mostly.”

  “Has it really been that long?”

  He shrugged. “About that. It’s been four years since I arrived on Juni and I was alone on Earth for about a year. Before that, well, dating wasn’t a priority for anyone with the plague and all.”

  “I had no idea.”

  He shrugged.

  “And you haven’t been with anyone since you came to Juni?”

  “No.”

  “I thought you and Olu. . . .”

  Epcott burst into laughter. “That would be like having sex with my mother, Uqqex!”

  “But you must have had offers.”

  He shrugged again. “Sure, from random strangers. Xenophiles.” His expression was one of withering contempt.

  “Ah. You’re a romantic.”

  “I don’t know if I would say that, but. . . .”

  “Do you want to have sex with me, John?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m too messed up to get involved in a relationship right now.”

  She sighed. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to have a relationship. I asked if you wanted to have sex. There is a difference, you know.”

  He hesitated. “I’ve never been comfortable with casual flings.”

  “Definitely a romantic,” said Uqqex. “And a terrible liar.”

  “Er...”

  Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “Sleep on the floor if you want, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  As she drew back, Epcott pressed his hand to his cheek. “Um.”

  “But, just so you know, when I asked how you wanted to sleep, I meant did you want the right side of the bed or the left. I wasn’t thinking about sex.”

  “Oh.”

  She stood and slithered out of her clothes. John watched as Uqqex pulled the covers back and slid beneath them.

  “Good night.”

  She turned on her side, putting her back to him. Her shoulders were dark, and Epcott noticed the telltale white scars marring her flesh. For a few moments, he sat there, frowning, before he undressed and slid into bed next to her.

  She chuckled and reached for his hand, patted it. “There. See? Not hard at all.”

  “Give it time,” muttered Epcott.

  Uqqex laughed, and snuggled deeper beneath the covers.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Uqqex woke alone. Glancing at the wallscreen, she saw sunlight spilling through the knotlimbs. Yawning, she pushed aside the bedclothes and took a deep breath. Her nose was always most sensitive upon first waking, so Uqqex easily detected the scent of distressed Junian. Curious, she climbed out of bed, and padded to the door. Poking her head out, she saw Sef and Tijo sitting at the bar. Mother and child were nibbling on fruit. There was no sign of Kaz or Epcott.

  Uqqex gathered up a fresh dress, and then availed herself of the wastechamber and the wetchamber. Her morning ablutions taken care of, she padded into the daychamber. Sef offered her a fleeting smile.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” said Uqqex. “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine. Mister Epcott and Kaz are at the airfield.”

  Uqqex nodded. “Have the peacekeepers arrived?”

  The subtle tang of a
nxiety rolling off Sef became much more potent. “No, not yet.” She fiddled with the fruit plate on the counter. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “I’m not a morning eater.”

  Uqqex leaned against the counter and smiled, carefully, at the child. Junian children tended to get unnerved if she smiled too widely and showed off her sharp canines.

  “It looks like your boy is feeling better today.”

  Sef nodded, and stroked Tijo’s cheek. “Yes. I think it was the sleepwine.”

  Tijo said nothing, just continued to work his way through a large, red fruit. He watched Uqqex with wide, black eyes.

  “He looks just like you.”

  “Do you think?” Sef smiled, sat a little straighter. “Kaz thinks he looks more like him.”

  Uqqex blinked. “Kaz? Your house-brother?”

  Sef’s smile evaporated and her scent changed again, becoming complex. “No! No, of course not! I meant. . . .”

  “It’s all right,” said Uqqex. She took the young woman’s hands. Sef’s fingers were flushed with blood; her face had gone deathly pale. “I won’t tell.”

  Convulsively, Sef clutched at Uqqex’s hands. “Please....please...don’t....”

  Her pleas were interrupted by the return of Kaz and Epcott. Both men wore warmsuits and were carrying luggage. They deposited the bags in the foyer, and then began to strip out of the suits.

  “Morning, Uqqex,” said John, removing his suit’s transparent helmet. “You missed all the excitement.”

  “Oh?”

  “Some time last night the transport’s impeller core overloaded. The thing exploded like a bomb.”

  “There was debris everywhere,” said Kaz. He removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm. “We were lucky to find our luggage.” He noticed Sef’s bloodshot eyes and frowned. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s nothing.” Uqqex smiled. “Just some lingering nerves from last night. That’s all.”

  Kaz drew Sef into a warm embrace. “It’s alright, Sef. We’re fine. We’re all fine.”

  John glanced at Uqqex, who kept her expression neutral. Shrugging, the human put away his helmet.

  “The peacekeepers commed me early this morning,” he reported. “They should be out here with a cleanup crew soon, to haul the transport away.”

  Kaz looked uneasy. “I don’t see why the peacekeepers are interested in this.”