Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel)

by Deborah O'Neill Cordes

  Dawann sucked in her breath. It took a moment to regain her presence of mind, such was her shock. “Predecessors?” she finally managed.

  Tima gave a little groan of agony. “It was a terrible time. I never knew why they were destroyed, but now, I fear––”

  “They had visions, too?”

  “Yes. When the Keeper found out,” Tima’s gaze grew hard, “he killed them.”

  Crying out, Dawann placed her hands over her earholes. “Oh, my Goddess, stop, stop!” She dropped her hands and stared at her lap, trying to convince herself this was merely a nightmare. The Keeper had raised her from childhood. She had been his consort since she came of age. For two years, she had been his love. Did she really believe he could kill her?

  Tima sniffed the air. “You must calm yourself, for I smell your fear.”

  The Keeper smelled it, too, Dawann recalled. She breathed deeply, willing away her emotions.

  “In his own way, the Keeper does love you,” Tima said, “but do not be lulled into complacency by his previous show of affection. He won’t hesitate to act if he finds out about this. If you divulge your thoughts to him about these visions, he will kill you, also. After that, he’ll direct his scientists to bring forth another clone, who will...”

  In a terrible flash, Dawann imagined a ruinous future. She will take my place, her thoughts finished for Tima. She will take my place in his bed – and his heart.

  ***

  Dawann-dracon lay in her bed-nest, the diaphanous sheets soft and silky. The nano-fibers of the nest caused the pillows and mattress to conform to her body like a second skin. She felt as if she might actually be floating in the sky, dozing on billowy clouds.

  But she was not. No, no, no.

  From her bed, Dawann glanced out of the window, watching the sky change from pink to gray and finally to deepest purple. The moons of Moozrab had risen, and double shadows flowed from objects in the room. A cushioned chair gave off two dark images as solid and square as a pair of worker drones. From table legs, black spindles curved on the floor, reminding her of the long, graceful necks of...

  Swans. Dawann closed her eyes. A strange word, another earthly-alien name to puzzle over. She breathed, hoping for sleep to carry her off. But she could not banish thoughts of her visions, and of Tima’s disturbing revelations.

  She tucked her head under her arm and snuggled in. Unlike her remote ancestors, the small, nocturnal, hunting dinosaurs of ancient Shurrr, Dawann-dracon was unable to rest in the daytime. Millions of years of evolution had changed her species’ sleeping habits. Now, their waking moments were spent in the sunshine and they were creatures of the light. They slept at night. Like humans.

  Dawann’s eyes flew open, visions of two-legged mammals crowding her skull. Suddenly, a claw raked at the door and she recognized the sound. Only one person would dare disturb her in the night, only one.

  “Dawann, let me in. Please, my pet.”

  The bidding was familiar and warmly put. With a sudden, aching desire, she found herself wanting to run to the door and fall into the Keeper’s waiting arms.

  No, she had to keep her wits about her now.

  Rising, she pulled a sheer sleeping gown around her body. How to handle him? What should she do?

  She knew full well he could not find out about her visions. Her life depended on it. He must not suspect what thoughts surged through her brain.

  Her hand reached the door and slowly, with unsteady fingers, she unlatched the bronze bolt. The door swung open and the Keeper strode in, took her in his arms, and carried her off to bed.

  “Shall we use the rings?” he playfully asked as he placed her on the mattress and settled in beside her. The nano-components went to work immediately, making the nest conform to their shapes.

  With an effort, Dawann controlled her feelings. A vision of the head rings rose, filling her mind. Worn over the brows of both sex partners, the rings allowed lovers to feel each other’s pleasure. And, to some extent, read the other’s thoughts.

  Dawann said quickly, “The rings? No. Tonight I wish to feel primitive.”

  “Primitive? Ah, that excites me.” The Keeper’s body moved hard against hers. In a heartbeat, he had penetrated her.

  Looking into his eyes, she saw his passion, realized how much he wanted her. She gasped in surprise at his fervor, and then, with reluctance, she gave in to the coming sensations.

  ***

  Hours later, Dawann-dracon lay in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the Keeper’s even breathing. She wanted to howl out loud, to wail with the mourning sounds of sadness, and her inner voice began a harrowing lament, with shrieks and squeals reminiscent of those made by small mammals in their death throes.

  She choked back her feelings, nervous she had already given off the inevitable, unmistakable smell of fright. She had to keep her emotions inside. If only she could...

  Cry. Yes, that was the word. She reached up and touched the inner corners of her eyes, but there were no tear ducts there.

  But I could cry once, she recalled. I cried in joy and pain when I was human.

  With a supreme effort, Dawann forced her nictating membranes to roll over her irises, and her eyeballs moistened. Yet, it was not the same.

  She could not cry. Her human counterpart could, though. Dawn had wept real tears.

  Gaze unfocused, Dawann stared into the darkness, and quite unexpectedly, her mind conjured up another face. Through remote space and uncountable time, a human female with white hair and blue eyes – different from the Keeper’s, but still startling – appeared to be staring back at her. As Dawann watched, tears rolled down the human’s cheeks. The female gazed down at a golden necklace, murmuring something about her children.

  Tasha? Dawann thought in fearful wonder. Sweet She-Goddess, was that your name?

  She gasped and the Keeper stirred.

  He came up on his elbow. “What is it?” he asked.

  Her heart trembled. “It is nothing, my lord. I, I was dreaming.”

  “What is troubling you, Dawann? You have not been yourself of late.”

  She analyzed his words. Simple. Direct. They had not been spoken in anger, only with concern. And, perhaps, a little love.

  Of course, he loves you. He’s always loved you.

  A bold thought erupted in Dawann’s mind, a plan which could give her a way to discover the truth, and one that would allow her to distract the Keeper.

  She took a breath and forged on, “I want a child, a hatchling to raise as my own.”

  The Keeper was silent for a long moment. Dawann felt her pulse race with anticipation.

  “We are not of the same species,” he finally said in a voice grown soft with melancholy. “Even if we were the same, I am sterile. Many years ago, when your scientists worked their miracles on my dying body, they could not change that. I cannot reproduce.”

  “I know. But I want a baby. Your baby. And I’ve thought of a solution.”

  He drew his face closer to hers. “Tell me.”

  “You could provide genetic material for a clone. We would raise the child together. Your son and heir. And our baby.”

  Dawann briefly closed her eyes, hoping she sounded genuine. Please, believe me!

  She opened her eyes. He was still absorbing what she had told him. Despite the darkness, she concentrated on his shadowy features, but then she flinched when his teeth flashed gray against the night.

  She felt speechless with fear. Stiffening, she fell back into the mattress. The nano-fibers softened around her, their comfort incongruent as she prepared for the pain of his bite. But, much to her relief, it did not come.

  He sniffed the air, sensing her fright.

  “My throat is at your mercy,” she croaked.

  “Fear not, my love.” He laughed with great chortles that ripped through the room. It was something she had never grown accustomed to hearing, as alien as his blue eyes.

  He continued to roar with abandon. Forcing herself to respond, she
made herself hoot and trill with false hilarity.

  “Of course,” he said, his laughter fading to a sigh. “I understand now. A hatchling? Ah, my pet, your brooding is understandable.” He took her in his arms and whispered, “You are brilliant, Dawann. And yes. I’ll see that your wish is granted. Tomorrow, we’ll go to see Mem.”

  “What is Mem, my lord?”

  “Not what, but who. Mem-rax is a scientist.”

  “Is he competent?”

  “Ah, he is a genius!” The Keeper laughed again. “His laboratory is located on the other side of the Missloo City. We’ll travel there tomorrow, and, with his help, you shall get your wish.” He rose from the bed-nest.

  “Goodnight, my lord,” she said as he walked to the door.

  He turned toward her as his hand pressed against the latch. “Sleep now, my dearest,” he told her.

  And, as he slipped from the room, he added, “Sleep. For tomorrow, you may very well meet your destiny.”

  Chapter 4

  What’s past is prologue.

  ~William Shakespeare, The Tempest

  The next morning Dawann woke in confusion, vaguely sensing something was different. Had she been dreaming? Were her troubling thoughts simply the leftover sensations of a nightmare?

  Her gaze settled on her mirror. A moment of uncertainty advanced in her mind and then passed away, and she recalled her recent vision in the looking glass of the Great Hall. Suddenly, everything came flooding back in a tidal wave of remembrance. In her previous incarnation, she had been a mammalian creature, a human named Dawn. A strange, bipedal being with a headful of brown hair, five fingers on each hand, and two breasts. So, it was true. It was all still true.

  Tima, she thought, glancing at the door. I must find Tima.

  She reached toward the nightstand next to her bed-nest, turned on a light, and pushed a small button. In a moment, a soft clawing sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” Dawann said. “It is not locked.”

  Old Tima entered, followed by two drones carrying the morning repast. “Your Highness,” she said with a bow, “I have been informed of your trip. The Keeper expects you to meet him at...”

  Tima’s voice trailed off, and Dawann realized it was because she had not yet risen from her bed.

  “What is wrong, my dear? Are you ill?”

  Dawann shook her head and then flinched, startled she had responded with what she guessed was a human gesture.

  Tima dismissed the worker drones with a hiss. When they were finally alone, she said, “You must take care, Dawann. I noticed what you did with your head. That comes from your twin soul, does it not?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “You must remember to growl. Do not shake your head. If the Keeper sees such a thing, he may conclude you are having visions.”

  “I know.” Dawann looked into Tima’s eyes. “I need your help. The presence of my other self is increasing. She’s filling my brain. I think I’m going to lose my wits! With all that I’m experiencing, what if I go insane?”

  “Oh, my dear girl!” Tima came over to the bed-nest and sat on the edge. “You will not go insane.” She stroked the feathers on Dawann’s head. “I promise to do everything in my power to help you.”

  “Is there anyone who can explain what I’m experiencing?”

  “Yes, I know someone who is trustworthy, who might help.”

  “Oh, thank the Goddess!” Dawann reached out and grabbed Tima’s arm. “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Fey-dracon, and she is a paleontologist. I know her better than anyone in the Solar System, for we hatched in the same rookery on Shurrr. Fey works with Mem-rax.”

  Dawann released Tima and sat back. “Mem-rax? That is the second time I’ve heard his name. The Keeper mentioned him last night. Please, tell me everything you know.”

  Tima glanced at the ceiling. “Mem-rax is a geneticist. He was the recipient of the Ogdanu Prize and is considered one of our most renowned scientists. Fey and Mem are mates.” Suddenly, her face paled and she warily looked around the chamber.

  “Please, Tima, tell me everything.”

  “But, if the Keeper finds out about this, think of what could happen.”

  “He will not find out,” Dawann said, explaining how her rooms were routinely swept for listening devices.

  Tima gave a small grunt, then lowered her voice. “Yes, well, Mem and Fey have established a successful business providing clones for the royal court and for many of the colonists here on Moozrab. They run the best genetics laboratory in the Solar System.” She leaned over until she was close to Dawann’s right ear hole. “But they have a secret. Fey told me she found an amber fossil, made from petrified tree sap, which she excavated on Shurrr many years ago. There were two vials inside the amber.”

  Dawann sat bolt upright. “Vials?”

  “Yes, the amber wasn’t a natural fossil. Fey told me she suspected – correctly I might add – it was an artifact created by someone who knew amber could preserve tissue. The first vial did not produce anything viable, but when Fey and Mem cloned the genetic material inside the second vial, an embryo was produced, and it survived. The clone turned out to be an alien. It is a male, who is vaguely like us in appearance, but he has hair like a mammal, and he is tall, much taller than the males of our species. In fact, he is almost as tall as the Keeper.”

  Dawann gaped in astonishment. “He has hair?”

  As Tima grunted again in affirmation, Dawann rose from her bed-nest and went to the window. The first rays of dawn outlined Missloo City in deepest garnet. She leaned forward until her face lightly touched the window. She felt the coolness of the plastine surface against her cheek, and recalled her visions of humans. Fey and Mem’s clone must be a member of the same species.

  Inconceivable thoughts entered her mind. Had the vial contained Gus’s genetic material? Could he have been cloned?

  Closing her eyes, Dawann suddenly envisioned a complex of buildings. A strange red, white, and blue emblem was prominently displayed on the side of the largest structure, a huge, rectangular edifice that seemed as tall as a mountain. The sky above the building was clear – and blue – as she imagined herself walking toward some of the humans. The female named Tasha stood there with Gus. And then, she saw other humans, two males and another female. Who were they?

  With difficulty, she shook off the question. There were more important things to focus on now. Something was happening here, something incredible. She forced herself to concentrate. In her mind’s eye, she saw Gus lead the small group toward the enormous building.

  Dawann gasped. Nasssa, she remembered. It was called Nasssa, wasn’t it? She saw the blue sky again. Nasssa was located on Shurrr, er, Earth.

  And Gus, Tasha, and the others were astronauts!

  “Did you say that Fey-dracon was born on Shurrr?” Dawann asked, spinning around to face Tima.

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “And that she found the amber artifact there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I must meet Fey.”

  Tima had not moved from the edge of the bed-nest. “I will try to arrange a meeting, Your Highness.”

  “Not try. You must arrange it.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “And Tima?”

  “Yes?”

  Dawann came over to her side and dropped her voice, speaking softly into her earhole. “I wish to meet the mammalian clone.”

  Tima looked at her, eyes wide. “I’m afraid that might be... no, it is impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible.” Dawann tried to sound more confident than she felt. “I will not be dissuaded in this.”

  “But it could be very difficult to convince Fey to reveal anything more about the clone. I know for a fact he was hidden away long ago.”

  “Where?”

  “I do not know. Fey never revealed his location to me.”

  Hearing this, Dawann’s heart fell and she was filled with doubt. “Are you certain about what you have to
ld me so far, Tima? Why would Fey tell you anything about this matter? She must have known the risks involved in creating the clone. If the wrong saurians found out––”

  “There is no risk from me,” Tima said, her voice sounding slightly ruffled. “I am as loyal to Fey-dracon as she is to me. We would die for each other, and that is the truth. As I told you before, Fey was one of my egg-mates.”

  “I understand. All right, I believe you, Tima. I am convinced we must act, and soon. I am sorry to put you and Fey in such danger, but if I could just meet the clone, or even if I could see a picture of him.”

  “Ah, that might be more realistic.”

  “Will you ask Fey?”

  “Yes, I shall do it today. I was not able to stop the Keeper before, when he eliminated your predecessors, but this time, I will not stand idly by and do nothing, even if it means...” As Tima grew quiet, she gave a shiver. “I must not speak of them.”

  “Who?”

  “The rebels,” Tima’s voice was barely perceptible now, “who may count me among their ranks if I do what I fear is necessary in the coming days. Well then, let us not wallow in ‘what ifs’, for I believe we should pursue this. Perhaps Fey will agree to help you, and you will discover the answers you seek.”

  “That is what I am praying for.”

  “Still, care must be taken. If the Keeper ever finds out––”

  “Then it is clear, Tima. I shall die.”

  The words hung between them, the air filled with a heavy sense of purpose.

  Golden-brown eyes dark with foreboding, Tima rose from the bed-nest and touched her forehead gently to Dawann’s.

  “Help me,” Dawann whispered. “I don’t belong here.”

  They stood together for a long while, and Dawann-dracon knew they were of one mind, each determined that Dawn, now Dawann, must somehow, someday, find her way back home.

  ***

  The next day, Dawann breathed deeply in the safe, plush, enclosed atmosphere of the Keeper’s personal cruiser. She was traveling with him to Mem-rax Labs, so that he could provide genetic material to create his clone, the baby he believed they would raise together. They moved in a convoy of airtight, heavily armored, jet cruisers through Missloo City. The protection was necessary, for assassins lurked within the Empire, and these violent members of the rebellion would kill the Keeper if given the chance.