by Dana Lyons
“Ask for Draco Gardens, it’s in the repertoire,” Simon said. “Yeah, you can come down here all you want.” He paused to catch their attention. “Just so you understand—you don’t want to corner a dragon on the run, not if you want to live.”
She nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
* * *
At 10 P.M., Dreya, Rhys, and Quinn returned to Level 4. They showed their IDs and were allowed through. “Need a flashlight?” asked the supervisor.
“No, I have one.”
The supervisor glanced at the men already moving beyond the work lights. “Don’t get lost.”
They walked off into an orchard of palm trees that gave way to a tropical flower garden. Once they were far enough away to feel out of sight, they stopped. “Stay away from cameras, if you spot Givens, do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. Understand?”
They stripped and transitioned before she finished her speech. Got it. Hear you. “Be careful and don’t get caught.”
Quinn bounded off with Rhys above, skimming the tops of trees. It feels so good to fly! Run, run, you can’t catch me!
Stay in touch.
She passed through field after field, working her way from the tropics to the temperate region. When she got to wheat, she stopped and checked her watch. Almost sunrise.
Come back and dress before the lights come on.
She turned around and started back. When she was deep in the tropics again, Quinn stepped out from a bougainvillea bush, startling her so she squeaked. “Oh!” Give me a little warning next time.
He transitioned and she passed over his clothes. While he dressed, Rhys floated in silently and landed on the ground. In moments, he transitioned and was dressed.
“Any sight or smell of him?”
“I saw nothing,” Rhys said. “But there’s too much to cover and too many places to hide.”
“I came across his smell,” Quinn said. “I tracked his scent for a long time, but it faded out. He’s here somewhere. But like you said, the place is too big.”
She exhaled. “Great, a murderer on the loose. I wonder how many workers are out here at any given time.” She shook her head with worry. “And it’s not likely Pantheon will close down the entire station and this operation to flush out one murdering Draco Demon.”
“Depends on the value of life,” Rhys growled. “What did Jones say was their rating scale? ‘A’ Critical; ‘B’ Necessary; ‘C’ Disposable? How many ‘B’ and ‘C’ rated lives are worth shutting down the station and the surface? Like Lazar said, we’re up against that Pantheon bottom line.”
They walked back to the work stations and the elevators. The supervisor waved. “Find what you’re looking for?”
Dreya asked, “How many people on shift out there?”
“We have over eight hundred farm laborers. The first shift is four hundred workers, second shift three hundred or so, and night shift about a hundred.”
“Thank you,” Dreya said.
She entered the elevator with Rhys and Quinn to return to Level 3. “Great,” she complained. “First we had a potential eight hundred suspects. Now we have a potential eight hundred victims.”
8
Leonard Jeffrey woke with an adrenaline rush, knowing today was the most important day of his life. Once he returned to Earth, his life would get back to normal. “Coming here was supposed to be the opportunity of a lifetime,” he grumbled. He swung his feet out of bed. “Instead, it’s been the mistake of a lifetime.” He walked to the bathroom, humming.
The travel list comes out today and my name is on it.
“Going home,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste. He grinned with foamy lips and thought of the fresh breeze coming off the ocean. The first thing he was going to do was hit the beach and sink his feet in the warm sand.
Nothing like sand between your toes to remind you of Earth.
The virtual reality rooms here on station offered a great imitation of life on Earth, but they were an imitation.
I want the real thing. I want to go home to Earth.
He spat the toothpaste and wiped his mouth. “Going home and nothing’s gonna stop me.”
After breakfast in the cafeteria he walked over to the posting board, adrenaline driving his heart with anxiety and excitement. He read the list through … and read it through again. “My name. It’s not there. I’m supposed to be on this list.”
He closed his eyes. A roaring hum filled his ears and his stomach pitched. For a moment, he thought he would throw up. He swallowed and clenched his hands into fists.
Can’t go into Limbo. Can’t sign another contract. Can’t stay another five years working in purgatory.
The roar dimmed in his ears and he exhaled, thinking, there’s a mistake, that’s all. He opened his eyes and read through the list again. He definitely was not on the list. Holding on to his composure with stiff lips and a rigid back, he turned and walked away.
“Travel office in HR. That’s who’s in charge.” His insides quivered all the way to Level 1. When he reached for the door to HR, his hand shook. He scanned the directory and saw Chuck Meyers, Travel Coordinator. He gave his name to the receptionist and waited.
Limbo.
Only an evil organization like Pantheon could come up with Limbo. To remain on station after your contract expired required a delicate balance of credits and contract dates. If you don’t get out right away, Pantheon’s logic is, if you don’t leave, you must want to stay—to stay you have to work. Details like complications from overbooked exit lists didn’t seem to matter.
“Mr. Meyers will see you now.” The receptionist pointed. “Last door, end of the hall.”
He gulped, rose on unsteady legs, and followed her directions. The hall extended, seeming endless. He reached Meyers’ office, out of breath and with soaked armpits. “I’m Leonard Jeffrey, Mr. Meyers.”
“Come in. Sit. What can I do for you?”
Leonard eased into the chair. He licked his lips. “I saw the list. I’m not on the list. I’m supposed to be on the list. I was scheduled to be on the list,” he protested, slapping his thigh. Breathless, he asked, “What happened to my seat, Mr. Meyers?”
The friendly façade on Meyers’ face deflated like a balloon with a slow leak. “Let me look,” he said. He tapped his computer keyboard. “Leonard Jeffrey.” He shot a glance at Leonard, but looked hastily back to the computer screen.
“Let’s see, here you are. Yes, you were on, but changes above you led to a bump. You are now at the top of the next flight. No chance of getting bumped there. You’re all set to go—next flight.”
The roar filled Leonard’s ears and seized his vocal cords. In his mind’s eye, he jumped up and planted both hands on Meyers’ desk, shouting—
“If I stay till the next flight, I fall into Limbo—I’ll have to sign a new contract to earn my flight home. That’s five years, man. Five years of my life in this hell hole because someone above me either got paid or got laid.”
But he didn’t stand and he didn’t shout. Instead, his brain telescoped to a small point of memory.
Someone got paid or someone got laid.
The girl in the elevator. The one crying and missing an earring. He remembered thinking at the time someone got laid.
I was right, someone definitely got screwed. Me.
The roar in his ears coalesced to a ticking. He blinked, coming back to Meyers. He licked his lips again, and stood. “I see.”
Meyers’ tense face smoothed out like warm pudding. “You’re first out on the next flight. Relax.”
Leonard backed up. The ticking in his ears picked up the pace. Pressure filled his head.
I’m getting on that flight—whatever it takes.
He left Meyers and went back to his residence. He poured a stiff glass of bourbon. The ticking had turned back into a roar, filling his ears. The pressure in his head was building.
“Un-fucking believable. Did anyone bother to ask me, ‘Hey Leonard, you good with thi
s switch?’ Does anyone in this hell-hole care what impact a travel bump has on a man’s life?” He swallowed the burning liquor, willing it to erase his future. “No one asked me.”
He flopped on his couch and took a long pull on the bourbon. “I guess if I had the right equipment I could screw my way back onto the list.” His leg jumped with agitation as he stewed.
“Yeah, that’s it. Get back on the list. I have to get back on the list.” He refilled his glass and walked back to the couch. “But how do I do that?”
I can’t screw or buy my way back onto the list. So I need to remove one of the names above me.
“How do I bump someone? There’s got to be more than one way back on the list.” He put a finger on his chin, tapping. Removing someone started with deciding who to remove. He knew of only one person he wanted to change places with. He put his drink down and went out the door, hunting.
Her name was in the residential directory, coupled with one of the dragons, a David Armstrong. “Odd, women don’t usually bail on a dragon lover. Wonder why she’s so determined to leave.”
The Entertainment directory told him she danced today in the Vegas Nightclub. He headed to the entertainment district.
The Vegas shows run 24/7; she was in the early daytime show. He collected a bourbon neat from the bartender and sat at a little table off to the side. With a mind focused on how many credits he needed to get off station, he nursed his drink.
The girl was Hilde and she was beautiful, lean and leggy with long black hair. Leonard had seen her lover, David. As demons go, he was a beautiful specimen.
Dragons made it difficult for a human to have a woman; their legendary reputation in the sack was irrefutable. “So, she’s beautiful, can leave Draco anytime she wants without Limbo, got a great lover, and she screws me over to get my seat. That just isn’t right, man.” Either he figured this out or he fulfilled another five-year contract.
The dance skit was over. Before the dancers left the stage, a dragon strode up and shouted, “Hilde!”
It was Armstrong, the lover. The girl’s face was stricken immediately upon seeing him. Leonard leaned forward to listen.
“You’re on the travel list?” Armstrong asked. His face was crumpled, as stricken as hers.
“I’m sorry, I was going to tell you, but the list went up while I was at work.” Tears poured from her eyes, matching her lover’s face. “I can’t stay,” she pleaded. “I love you but I can’t stay in this place all my life.”
“I love you. I want to marry you. How can you do this? Am I not good enough for you?” His face was turning red, anger blooming. For a moment, he appeared on the verge of shifting, a dangerous event for a dragon in emotional distress. He choked back his tears and slammed his fist on the stage at her feet. “How could you?” He turned on his heel and stormed out.
Hilde remained on the stage, her head bowed with tears hitting the floor until another dancer came out and took her backstage.
Leonard pondered this new information. He smiled, a plan coming to mind.
* * *
Dreya rolled over in bed and threw a leg over Quinn’s furry haunches. He grunted and scooted closer. Half asleep, she reveled in the secure sensation of having her animals with her at night.
Quinn’s fur was silky and his body heat warmed her. She stretched a hand out and found his head. She scratched. He released a long groan and stretched his hind legs out, shaking, inching closer until he laid his head full in her hand.
Her fingers played idly with his head, her mind still adrift. In this state, their minds were open to her. Quinn’s legs twitched as he dreamed about chasing down prey. Rhys’s wings shivered and she saw his mind’s eye from high in the sky, piercing the ground with his extraordinary bird vision.
This unbreakable connection between them warmed her soul. The emotional satisfaction invaded her heart and mind, binding her to them even more. Nobility was strengthening their pack bond, tightening the family.
And we have yet to mate—forever.
So many changes had already come to her life. Once she abhorred eating with others, now, since Nobility, she never ate alone. Nor had she slept alone since Nobility; both were with her every night.
Rhys squeaked and hopped down from the headboard. All that thinking, you woke me up.
Sorry. Come close. She pulled him in so that he nestled next to her torso. His fast bird metabolism fired up; he was like a running motor. She draped her arm over him and stroked his body until he flopped his head over onto her chest.
They were her family now, and she theirs, with a connection that couldn’t be broken in life. Whatever challenges came, including Lazar, they would face together. She worried over what Lazar meant by ‘need another one’, and feared his reference meant another dose of Nobility.
Stop worrying.
Not worrying. Just circling the topic.
Feels like worry in my head.
Quinn stretched and yipped. You two talk too much.
She opened one eye. “You had fun in the outback last night?”
The most open space we’ve seen since Nobility.
Rhys pleaded, When we go back to Earth, can we get a job out of doors?
She sympathized with him. As a bird, he struggled more with being inside than Quinn. Rhys’ sense of claustrophobia filtered into her mind.
Can we hit the fields again tonight?
They chimed in unison, bombarding her. “Yes, unless Givens turns himself in.”
Even if he does.
Rhys and Quinn got up and played around with testosterone driven antics—joking, back slapping, and teasing while getting dressed. Before they stepped out the door, she turned and looked at them.
Nobility was slowly making other changes, more visible changes. Where they were handsome before, they were exceptionally handsome now. Rhys’ hair a deeper black, Quinn’s eyes a little brighter, their bodies just a bit leaner and stronger.
Pride lodged in her throat. As much as she hated Lazar for meddling in her life, the exceptional benefits were adding up.
In the cafeteria, they gathered at a table, leaving room for Simon. He sat and joined them, fitting in like they’d known him more than a few days.
“So where are we, boss?” he asked. He blew on his cup of coffee and gazed at her through the rising steam.
The searching look in his eyes was as piercing as Rhys’ bird vision. Simon was, like Jarvis, entirely too astute for her comfort. She forced herself not to squirm. As a diversion, she pushed her hair behind her ear and licked her lips. “We have a potential eight hundred victims with one suspect in the wind and scant chance to find him.” She glanced around the table, leaving room for anyone to contribute.
Simon offered, “I’m still working on bringing up a face in that airlock bay video; it’s a slow process. I don’t have the latest equipment. I’m also activating dormant cameras out in the fields on Level 4. Motion activated, maybe we’ll catch sight of Givens. At least then we’d know for sure he’s in the agriculture ring.”
At the mention of more cameras, she managed to keep from glancing at Rhys and Quinn. More cameras in the fields right now is not what they want. “How long before you get them functional?”
“By tonight.”
“Good,” she lied. “We’ll take all the help we can get.”
* * *
That night she, Rhys, and Quinn went back to Level 4. She approached the supervisor. “Everything smooth out here?”
“No problems since you were here,” she replied. “You expecting trouble?” She frowned.
Dreya could see the wheels turning in her head. That a violent murder occurred on station was not a secret. But like rats caught with nowhere to run, the community on Draco refused to panic.
“Not expecting any trouble,” Dreya lied again. “We’ll be back before sunrise.”
They went the opposite direction, going into the wild lands of acreage not under cultivation. The boys shifted and she collected their clothes.
“Remember to—”
Got it. We’ll be in touch.
Be careful she added.
The ground level going was rougher on this side; she stopped and rested, taking a drink. When she closed her eyes, she could see what Rhys and Quinn saw.
Quinn was running under the brush, slinking along with his nose to the ground. Rhys skimmed the tree line, occasionally lifting on a draft, his acute vision raking the ground with sharp movements. She rubbed her temples and scrunched her eyes. Bird vision made her head feel tight.
The time went fast and she checked her watch. Come back. Time to get dressed.
She turned around and froze. Givens stood in her path. His pants were torn at the knee and a feral look glinted in his eye. Blood stains covered the front of his shirt. She held her breath.
“Deliver me from the workers of iniquity; save me from the bloody men,” he said.
She blinked slowly, more to calm herself than him. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs and her mouth felt full of dust. His appearance was wild, yet he quoted the Bible. She opened her mouth, but he took one step and disappeared into the brush.
She put a hand to her chest and gasped, staring at the empty place where he stood.
Givens was here.
By the time Rhys and Quinn arrived, Givens was long gone. Quinn bounded up. Where? I’ll go after him.
No. Sunrise, time to leave.
They transitioned and dressed. “What did he do? Did he say anything?” Rhys asked.
“He was pretty scary,” she said, frowning. “But he quoted the Bible. He said ‘Deliver me from the workers of iniquity; save me from the bloody men.’ Then he slipped away. He had blood on his clothing.”
They made their way back to the work stations and the supervisor. “Find what you’re looking for?” she asked.
Dreya scanned over the hundreds of workers. “Everyone accounted for?”
