by Dana Lyons
A guttural cry roared from his lungs. He had to fly once more before ending his shift and boarding the shuttle back to the station—even if it was against the rules. He snapped open his wings and lifted.
He rose above the mining operation and veered out over the plain where he could fly out of sight. The hot wind tore at his face and his dragon heart pounded, pushing blood to his wings. The expanse of his wings carried him faster and faster, further starving the human aspect of his brain. A hormone driven rush of primordial power consumed him as he cavorted in the air. The dragon took over completely as visions of blood and fire filled his mind. He roared with dragon glee.
Blood and fire; fire and blood.
The stuff of dragon dreams.
* * *
At the shuttle pick up station on the Draco Prime surface, David Armstrong closed his dragon wings and stepped inside. He transitioned into human and reached for his backpack in the overhead storage. Quickly drawing on his overalls, he took a seat and buckled in. Across from him was foreman and senior Draco Demon, Nate Givens.
David turned so he could watch Nate from the corner of his eye. Nate was one of the older Draco Demons. His production levels were among the best while maintaining an exemplary record. He had a steady woman he shared with two other Demons, and his accumulation of credits was the stuff of legend.
Nate was the Pantheon poster boy.
But I know your secret.
David fiddled with the end of his belt strap. Flying was forbidden, yet he had seen Nate soaring out beyond the mining field. The sight of Nate flying wild stirred in him the desire to join in, to deliberately fly in spite of the restrictions, to feel his dragon blood sing.
“No,” he muttered. To fly as a dragon came at the cost of the sensual human. When Demons gave in to their dragon mind, the human mind suffered. Harm the human mind, and everything else suffered accordingly … especially the sex.
Lazar had explained in depth. “This support system—designed to maintain balance in the mind, is unpredictable in the laboratory. When I combined human and animal nature, mother nature decided how the new organism would adapt to the mix. This protective mechanism pits the dragon joy of flying against the human joy of sex. The two are inexorably entwined. It is the point of balance between the reptilian mind and the human mind.”
Hilde, David thought. A flush of desire filled his loins. The thought of her always gave him an erection.
I can fly, or I can have Hilde.
For him there was no choice; Hilde was exotic and beautiful and he loved her. He would not trade her or his mind for the joy of flying. He glanced quickly at Givens, wondering—
How much of your human mind was forfeited because of that one flight? How many other flights have you stolen?
Dragon minds were fragile.
A shiver rattled his spine.
* * *
“Leonard, how are you today?”
Leonard Jeffrey took a seat at the bar in Draco’s most popular party spot, the End of the Line. He smiled at the bartender. “Kepler, I’m a man with the ‘front of the line’ in my sights.”
“Oh, you think so?” Kepler wiped at the bar and threw down a napkin. “Shall I make you the front-of-the-line drink?”
“No.” Leonard held his hand out. “I don’t want to jinx it, you know. The list isn’t out yet. But I’m right in line. Bring me a beer, and keep what we talked about under your hat, okay?”
Kepler poured the beer and set it in front of Leonard. “You’re a superstitious fellow, my friend.”
Leonard sipped his beer. His five-year contract was up and he wanted off Draco Station. Some would kill to stay on Draco, others would kill to leave.
“So, your contract and your credits are all lined up?” Kepler prodded.
“Yep, simply biding my time till the next flight out,” he said.
“No risk of falling into Limbo?”
Leonard shivered. A chill banged down his spine like a chunk of Arctic ice. Limbo was a Pantheon contrived death spiral that forced many into signing a new contract. For him, that would be another five years on station.
“Not me,” he blurted. “Not me.” The thought of another five-year contract made his breath catch in his throat and his eyes water. He sipped his beer, forcing a smile to his face.
I’m a short timer. All I have to do is reach the front of the line.
* * *
Hilde Martin sat before her vanity, waiting for David, her dragon lover to come in after his shift. She brushed her long black hair slowly, eyes closed, not daring to look at her reflection.
This place has changed me.
Draco Station was an addictive, enticing and hedonistic outpost where time pretended not to exist. “Oh, but time is most certainly here.” She put the brush down and forced her eyes open. Her reflection was honest, showing a furrowed brow and a hesitant gaze.
Being with David was incredible. But the bigger truth was, she couldn’t stay and he couldn’t leave. She feared if she didn’t get on the next flight, the addictive nature of Draco would suck her in and she’d never get off station and return to Earth.
“If I stay … time will pass and one day I’ll be wrinkled and old, and when I die on station, my body will be ejected into space.”
She moaned with the horrific vision that had taken root in her mind. When you die on station there was no free ride home for a terrestrial burial. Your body was jettisoned out the airlock with the trash, to float alone forever in the frozen expanse of space. The vision of her remains in endless deep space terrified her. But leaving Draco Station would break David’s heart.
Mine, too, I love him. But even more, I fear a life spent on this station is a life wasted.
“Dammit.” She hated herself. Staying meant a life of unending, passionate and erotic loving. The decision of whether to stay or go had dogged her from the beginning of their relationship. But once David initiated her into the sensual pleasures of a dragon lover, she couldn’t make herself leave, hoping to put off the decision.
But he bought her a ring.
Suddenly, the clock was ticking.
She stared hard at her image. Could she actually abandon him? Fortunately, like all female entertainment contractors, she was able to leave Draco any time. She checked her watch.
I have to get my name on the next Fly Out list.
2
Draco Station
Hilde rode to the top deck of Level 3 where Pantheon management resided. She smoothed her dress over her hips and when the elevator doors opened, she quickly checked right and left, not wanting to be seen.
She knew she was about to do something morally wrong and explicitly against station rules, but she walked right to Mr. Meyers’ door, the Human Resources manager in charge of transportation. Last night after David made love to her as only a sensually heightened dragon could, she saw him peek at the ring he had been hiding next to the bed.
Approaching Meyers to get on the list made her stomach jumpy, and sweat dampened her palms. She had a bad feeling about what she was going to do, but she couldn’t erase the image of her body floating eternally in space.
She exhaled and licked her lips.
I want off Draco Station before I die here.
She pressed the call button.
“Who’s there?”
“Hilde Martin, Mr. Meyers. I’m one of the entertainers. I need to speak with you.”
“Come to my office tomorrow, Hilde.”
“Sir, it’s personal.” She hated to beg. She closed her eyes, immediately seeing her body bag drifting all alone. The image made her queasy and she put her hand over her mouth—but the vision wouldn’t leave. “Please, may I come in?”
The door opened and Meyers raked her up and down. His eyes were beady and his skin pale. She squelched a shiver, feeling like a rat had crawled up her dress. She smiled instead.
He leaned against the door jamb, smelling a trade in the wind. Sex was a frequent currency on station. But sex to change t
he Fly Out list, however, was strictly forbidden. If David, or anyone found out what she was doing, there would be hell to pay. From the expression on Meyers’ face, she could tell he wasn’t worried at the moment about the bill.
“Hilde, you’re a dancer, aren’t you?” He stepped back and motioned her in.
Grateful to be out of the hall, she stepped over the threshold. He closed the door and she gulped. “Mr. Meyers—”
“Please, call me Chuck.”
Chuck was soft, one of the few overweight people on Draco. He was sweaty and his fingers were like sausages. After being loved by a Demon, what she was about to commit with this repugnant human was not loving. “I need to get on the next flight.”
“Hilde, the list is full. As an entertainer, you can leave station any time beyond your contract without danger of Limbo. I can put you at the top of the next list. What’s the rush?”
“Like I said, it’s personal,” she stammered. She could tell he was already undressing her in his mind, and her resolve wavered. Fearing she might gag at the stink coming from him, she closed her eyes.
Her drifting body bag waited … and would continue to wait until she got on that list. She opened her eyes and eased her dress down over one shoulder, baring her skin to his disgusting gaze. “Can you help me, Chuck?”
* * *
Leonard Jeffery relaxed in his residence, knowing his time on Draco was almost over. Coming here with Pantheon had been a horrific mistake, but leaving would correct everything and get his life back on track.
“Huh, he grunted. “Pantheon, you corporate bitch; getting loose of you is like getting a divorce. No doubt you’ll bleed me dry if you get a chance.”
The next flight into Draco was a week away. The ship would be on station ten days for cargo transfer, and then he would be on board in time to evade falling into Limbo and signing another contract.
“Escaping you, bitch,” he muttered. “I will not spend another five years in purgatory.” He dressed for his shift and collected his backpack.
Needing to go down to Level 5, he waited at the elevator bank. The first car to arrive came down from management residences on the top deck. Odd, he thought, checking his watch. Rarely did anyone from the top deck come down to this level, and workers were discouraged from contacting upper management outside the office.
The elevator door opened. A girl he recognized as one of the dancers bolted out, sideswiping him. She was crying, and her clothes were wrinkled. As she passed him by, he noticed one of her earrings missing.
He entered the elevator, pressed the Level 5 button, and smiled.
Somebody got laid.
* * *
In the genetics lab, Dr. Lazar dropped the latest corporate demands in his trash can. “These Pantheon idiots will destroy Draco faster than the Demons.”
He walked to his private closed-environment workstation, typed in commands for the robotic arms, and stood back, watching perfection being created.
This was his latest Nobility formula, adjusted after testing of a previous sample revealed a formula miscalculation that would have caused serious fatalities. Before destroying the deadly mix, he had set aside a sample for analysis. But when he went to retrieve the sample—
It was missing. Right when that unfortunate woman Annie Cooper fell and cracked her head open in the lab.
The robotic arms completed their instructions and a tightly sealed tube of Nobility formula was produced. He took the package and placed it in his private safe. “At last, the Nobility of humanity is ready.”
In the outer office, Station Manager Ryan Thomas entered and gazed about. Lazar cringed inward, knowing what was coming.
“Lazar,” Thomas called. He motioned for the doctor to come talk.
Lazar walked out, recalling the new corporate demands he had just tossed into the trash. “Ryan,” he greeted, faking a smile.
“I guess you saw the new orders.”
“Yes, and they go beyond my recommendations. I will not be held responsible.” He stated this flatly.
Thomas pulled back at Lazar’s tone. “Did you suddenly fall off the profit sharing wagon?” He snorted, amused, and gave a show of teeth.
Lazar let him chortle. He knew the dragons were near breaking under steadily increasing corporate demands, but he didn’t care. He had Nobility and didn’t need Pantheon anymore. He was leaving.
Draco Station could go to hell.
* * *
On the surface of Draco Prime, Nate Givens shut down his machine and checked his watch.
If I fly, I’ll run over my time limits.
The exhilaration of flight had become the addictive call of his expanding dragon DNA’s desire for ‘expression’. Every time he flew, he gave in to his heart’s yearning for blood and fire … and returned a little less human.
He jumped into the air and flew over the rocky red terrain of the surface. He kept his hands behind his low back and let his chest lead the way as his wings beat heavily to attain altitude. Deeply he drew the heavy air into his lungs, where the toxic chemicals soared through his body, destroying human brain cells with each stroke of his wings.
Harder he flapped and rose farther in the air, laying waste to more human cells, opening the way for further dragon onslaught in his human brain. With this neural expansion came a primordial exhilaration … the blood thirst.
Lazar had vehemently protested that the development of blood thirst was unexpected when it arose in the first flying dragons.
Or, maybe Lazar knew about the thirst all along.
Perhaps, Nate thought, Lazar could act surprised and explain the blood thirst as the dragons’ response to being combined with human nature. How it came to be, whether by nature or by laboratory, Nate didn’t care. He only knew the blood thirst intensified when he flew.
The beeper on his watch announced he was over his time limit for the day. His first thought was to rip the watch from his arm, but the watch was his ticket back inside. With a growl, he banked and returned to the surface, landing where no eyes could see him. He grabbed his backpack and got in line for the shuttle.
Inside the shuttle, he shifted back into human form along with the others and dressed. His heart pounded, incited by the smell of human blood in the non-dragon operators. He had to sit on his hands and close his eyes to keep from screaming and devouring them all.
Retain your humanness.
All newly turned dragons are instructed to create a memory collage of their life as a human; running to catch a football, riding a horse, swimming, hiking on Earth—
Not flying.
Retain your humanness.
“You okay, man?”
Nate jumped, frowning until he recognized the shuttle doctor. “Oh, hey Doc,” he amended, smiling.
“Your watch says you stayed out again today. You been staying out a lot lately. What’s going on?” He flashed his little light across Nate’s eyes and peered closely at his face.
“I had some trouble with my machine—got rocks lodged in the treads. I need my machine to work, so I stayed over to pick them out.”
The doctor gave him a long, studied look. Nate gazed back with all the innocence he could muster, given how he wanted to rip the Doc’s throat out. He shrugged. “I’m fine. Talk to the corporates about our workload increases.”
“Workload increases are why you don’t stay over your time limits. If you have rocks, pick them out on your shift—”
“But that eats my production.”
He reset Nate’s watch. “Figure it out Nate or I’m going to ground you.” He moved off down the line, checking every Demon’s watch.
Nate kept the smile fixed on his face, even though the sound of blood pumping through the doctor’s veins filled his ears with song—
The blood thirst symphony.
He closed his eyes and played his human video, commanding the dragon step down. The request was met with resistance, and for a hot moment he thought he would lose control and shift.
Reta
in your humanness.
He pictured his mother. The smell of her hair, and the funny way she would wink at him. He remembered the day they went to the water park. He smiled, seeing a little boy shrieking with glee as he shot down the steepest waterslide.
The thirst receded.
He breathed slow, peeking through slit eyes to see if he attracted any attention. No one watched him. He breathed easy again.
The shuttle landed and the dragons all rose and filed out. He kept his gaze from the doctor and was grateful to get out of his sight. Shunning the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time, needing to feel his human heart pumping blood to his human brain. He burst up onto the transportation hub for Level 5 and lunged for the first open elevator up to Level 3.
At Level 4, a young man boarded, pink cheeked and smelling of soil, coming from the station’s horticultural food production. Nate read the man’s ID around his neck: Gardener 4B. The dragon within could smell the human was new on station.
Fresh.
He glanced down and away from the human, but the pulse of his blood and the fresh smell of him cried out to the dragon.
At Level 3, the young man stepped out of the elevator. In a move dragon fast, Nate noted the empty area, grabbed the young man and drew him back into the elevator. He closed the door and ripped out the human’s throat.
* * *
2018 Washington, DC
Dreya examined her image in the mirror. “I’m trying to hide these freaky eyes. How do I look?” Behind her, Rhys and Quinn peered at her reflection.
Rhys nodded. “The contacts work well. Your eyes are pretty, but not exceptional.”
“You can’t tell I’m wearing contacts?”
“Nope.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Wearing sunglasses on a space station is hard to explain. Your friends from the syrup place do good work.”
