Dragon Fire (Galaxy On Fire Book 5)

by Craig Robertson

  “How are you all doing,” Sapale asked.

  “Fine now,” replied Caryp.

  “How so,” Sapale asked with concern.

  “Maybe we can get some sleep now that the moaning, pounding, and giggling is complete.”

  Sapale covered her mouth and turned away.

  “Who said it’s over?” I responded. I raised a finger in the air and gestured between Sapale and myself. “Androids here.”

  “Oh, that’s disgusting,” shot back the old bat.

  “Hey, don’t kid yourself. You would if you could,” I said with a wink.

  “I did, and I might yet still. But I’d be a lot more discrete. I can tell you that.”

  “TMI, Opalf,” replied Sapale.

  “I have no idea what that means. If you’re asking me to join you two in debauchery, you can forget about that right now.”

  I put my fingers in my ears. “TMI and distressingly gross.”

  The crone waved the back of her hand in our direction. “Rookies. You disgust me. Leave us alone to rest.”

  “I’ll be at the system controls if you need me,” replied Sapale, pointing over her shoulder.

  Caryp narrowed all four eyes. “That what they’re calling it these days?”

  I grabbed Sapale by the back of her pants and pulled her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here before she starts undressing.”

  Sapale wrapped her arm around my waist as we walked to the control station. We didn’t need to talk. I sat behind the main panel, and Sapale sat next to me.

  “So, was that the first time you ever flew a vortex?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You did it like a pro. I may have to get you your own.”

  “I’m fine in this one. Hey, in six months I’ll probably inherit it anyway.”

  “Oh, you do like to rub it in, don’t you, you naughty girl?”

  “Toño offered to let me test one way back when, but I said no. Didn’t think it would ever be needed.”

  “But I bet he programed a ton of sims into you.”

  “Gigabit of the darn things.”

  “Whatever happened to Toño?” I asked. I’d never heard any news about him.

  “No one seems to know. We didn’t. After he set me up in this android, we saw less and less of him. After a few thousand years, we lost track of him altogether.”

  “Into different things?”

  “To say the least. He continued to work tirelessly for the betterment of humankind. He pioneered new technologies, established top-level education for scientists, and continued to work with the political hacks.”

  “Some things never change, do they?”

  “Not politicians, flakes, frauds, or felons. And so it goes,” she mused.

  “Amen.” I toasted with my mug. She returned the salutation. “I wonder what happened to him, though.”

  “You don’t think he might still be alive, do you?”

  I shrugged. “We three are. If anyone could do it, he could. He’d not just replace parts, he’d design new ones and upgrade continually.”

  Sapale thought about that a minute. “Yes, he would, wouldn’t he? By now, he could be so far advanced, we look like horse-drawn buggies next to him.” Her eyes wandered.

  “Dude could be a demigod by now, couldn’t he?”

  Her eyes returned to me. “No, not Toño. He’s much too humble. He’d never go there.”

  “EJ sure changed a lot. Anything’s possible.”

  “Amen, I say unto you.”

  “Do you have a theory as to why he fell so far off the rails?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I sure thought about it a lot.” She got a distant look in her eyes. “Those first twenty-five thousand years he spent alone before he went back in time and gave you the membrane technology were tough on him. As you know, you don’t like to talk about stuff like that, so he didn’t. I was able to piece together a dour picture of his past. For a long time, he only had the Ark 1 ship, so his travels were painfully slow and lonely. When he finally managed to steal a fast ship, he was already pretty far down the path leading to a criminal life.”

  “Did he have a malfunction? A corruption or something?”

  She looked very concerned. She knew I wanted that to be the reason he degenerated into such a hateful pariah. I didn’t want to think it was something that lurked deep inside me too.

  “Maybe. But he positively would never talk about it. And he had his personal diagnostics encrypted, so I was never going to see them.”

  We sat quietly for a while. We both had a lot of thinking to do. That’s when the now-rested kids burst into the room, the older one naturally chasing the younger one. Pretty quickly, little Sapale vaulted onto my Sapale’s lap for protection from her older brother Irtopal. The senior Sapale snatched him up into a restraining hug. She warned them that if they didn’t calm down, she’d start kissing them. Irtopal squirmed just a little, and her assault was on. She kissed them on their heads, necks, and arms. The kids put forth a lousy defense and giggled like crazy. It was a joy to witness. This, I missed.

  Their mom came to try and establish control over her wild ones. Eaptetta was her name. Dad, who remained in the bedroom with Caryp, was named Qivrov. They seemed like wonderful people and appropriately doting parents. I collapsed back in my seat. It suddenly hit me how many perfect little families the Adamant had slaughtered in the name of empire. I almost lost it then and there. Those horrible sonsabitches had wiped out civilization after civilization. And it wasn’t the grand political institutions or the cultures that made me the sickest. No, it was the annihilation of the love so many families created and shared.

  My anger level rose to infinity. I began to shake. My vision went fuzzy. If I was still human, I’d have hoped and prayed I was having a stroke. But it was, for me, just another punishment of immortality. I was coming apart psychologically, damn it, not mechanically.

  “…sweet love, you’re scaring me. Jon, are you all right?”

  I scanned the space before my face without recognition. Then I saw her, my vision, my lighthouse, my rock. My Sapale.

  “There you are. What’s happened, wensilack?” That was a Hirn term of goopy affection, like our honey pie.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  She made a show of checking the chronometer on the display panel. “Nine hours. It took you all of nine hours to lie to me.” She smiled and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’ve seen that look before. It’s the angry-Jon-Ryan look.”

  “Those kids nearly died. If I wasn’t there, maybe they would have. Hell knows why the Adamant returned to the basement. Angel, those cruel monsters are extinguishing everything good and worthy in my universe. I hate them more than I’ve ever hated any person, place, or thing before.”

  “We all do. And the kids are fine. You saved them.” She tapped the tip of my nose. “That’s what you do. But don’t let hate control you. EJ did, and now look at him. Now I’m not saying I’m worried about you, not yet. But understand this, man of my heart. There is just as much good in the universe as there is bad. Actually, I think there is more good.” She held her palms up on either side of her torso. “It’s all a matter of balance.” Her moved her arms up and down like a scale. “The Adamant are in their ascendancy. Goodness and light are ebbing. But there will be a reckoning. The balance will shift, and the Adamant will have to settle the very large tab they’ll have run up. Trust me, you won’t want to be them when the hammer falls.”

  “Wow, you’ve become a Gypsy psychic since we parted. Can you make an okay living at it?”

  “You know a lot of women would be irritated by your remark. But not me. I missed you, Jon Ryan. You’re as cute as a bean on a bun.”

  “You talk about the Adamant’s downfall like it’s a done deal. Wishful thinking, says I.”

  “No, it is fact. Jon, I’ve known you a long time. I have faith in you. Maybe more than you do of yourself. If I were the Adamant, I’d sue for peace yesterday and make
the one term of their surrender being that we keep you away from them.” She shook her head. “Now they’re not nearly that smart, so it’ll take an ass-kicking to knock them off their pedestal. But topple they will.”

  “When I start leading the charge?”

  “No, sweet, you are the charge.”

  FOUR

  “This is the stupidest plan I have ever heard of, and trust me, I’ve heard a lot of doozies in my day.” Garustfulous was fuming.

  “Given the constraints I’m working with, I rather like it,” replied Harhoff quietly. He was having trouble not cracking a smile.

  “But damn it, I’m Adamant. I’ll not step out into public disguised as a slave.”

  “We’ve been through this a thousand times. You cannot be Adamant. You’d be subject to transfer away from my service and to bioscans whenever you enter a secure facility. I can’t protect you then. That leaves only three options: Warrior. Possible, but you’d still be visible to those who might recognize you, and they do bioscan the Warrior class occasionally. Kilip. Let’s just leave teacher of the young alone. Not going to happen. Descore. Perfect for your safety and cover. I’ve never heard of a Descore being interrogated, let alone bioscanned. A minimal amount of plastic surgery on your white mark, and you’re Descore—my Descore.”

  “This is beneath my dignity. It is insulting, verging on the unholy.”

  “Ah ah, Garustfulous, we already established you have no dignity. Pride, yes. Honor, no. I plan on keeping you alive and using you as a covert agent. The match is too perfect to pass up. And there’s only upsides for me. If you’re uncovered, I won’t be implicated in your ruse. I will have forged no documents nor deleted any computer files in your support. I have plausible deniability that you presented yourself to me as a Descore. No one will expect me to run a background check for one from your modest caste.”

  “Can I return to being what I am—an Adamant—someday? At least throw me that bone.”

  Harhoff pointed to a flask on the table. “Pour me some tea.”

  Garustfulous started to protest but realized this was a test. Huh. Not even an if you please. Oh well, courtesy would seem out of place directed at a Descore. He filled his master’s cup. A noticeable amount either missed the lip or sloshed over it.

  “Do practice in private, Jangir,” chided Harhoff. That was his new Descore name.

  “I haven’t had the surgery yet, you hound. Don’t call me that.”

  “The physician will be here in an hour. I have incriminating evidence of improper beliefs against him. We might as well get you into character.” Harhoff glared at Jangir.

  It finally hit Garustfulous. He bowed. “Yes, Master. Will there be anything else?”

  “No. Have a seat over there and keep quiet. I wish to take a nap. Wake me when the doctor arrives.” Harhoff curled up on his mat and was out in a flash.

  Garustfulous sat staring at him. His jealousy was as overbearing as his fatigue. But he knew Descore were only allowed to relax in their joint quarters. For the time being, he’d just have to pine for sleep as he seethed.

  FIVE

  “Opalf,” Sapale said to Caryp, “you have a tough decision ahead of you.”

  “I know. It is not one I planned on facing, but there it is.”

  “I asked Qivrov the same question, and he said his family would follow whatever you decided as clan leader.”

  She shook her head wearily. “That part never gets easier, child. Deciding what path to choose is hard enough when it’s just for oneself. Making critical decisions for others’ lives is worse.” Then she smiled faintly. “Here I complain because I was granted a choice other than death at the hands of the Adamant.”

  “If you’re not ready, there’s no hurry …”

  “No.” She cut off Sapale. “There’s only one course of action.” She turned to me and set her steely eyes to mine. “You will take us to the planet farthest from the Adamant advance that will sustain us. Then, even if you two fail to stop these pigs, we will be afforded as much time as possible to regroup. Do you know which site will be best, or is there exploration that you must,” she waved her bony hands in the air, “conduct?”

  “I have some good ideas,” I said softly. “With a little more—”

  “There is no more time for my people. This is what you will do.” She reached into her cloak and produced an ornate golden escutcheon. “You will deposit us immediately on a safe, distant world. Then you will take our clan medallion and return to Kaljax. In whatever time remains, you will round up as many Kaljaxians as possible. You will use whatever means are required. Showing this clan icon will convince all that you speak for me. Jon Ryan, we are in the final hours of my civilization. If we are to remain a viable race, you must spirit as many as possible to this safe, distant planet.”

  “I can help, Opalf,” said Sapale.

  “No. You will stay behind. When this craft returns, I expect it will be packed wall to wall such that people can barely breathe. You going means one less soul saved.” She looked at me like I was an idiot.

  “What?”

  “Why are you standing there gawking at me, as pretty as I am? Are we on this new home yet?”

  I jumped to. “No, ma’am, but we’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “Why does he insist on speaking in riddles?” she asked Sapale.

  “No one knows,” was her reply. Hey, I might resent that.

  I set us down on Kalvarg less than fifteen seconds later. Though technically still part of the Milky Way galaxy, the solar system it belonged to was a few kiloparsecs past the outer rim. At some point in the distant past, the entire system had been ejected from the galaxy by some perverse gravitational horseplay. Now it was an island of light in an immense sea of nothingness, heading farther into the void. Of course, if one was on any of the planets in the system one couldn’t tell anything was unusual, except for the near absence of stars in the night sky. Instead of bright pinpoints of light in the night sky, they would see the confluent stars of their home galaxy only in one direction.

  I’d never been there. The planet caught my attention on the Adamant maps only because it was so unusual. It was not just far away, it had several planets with independent sentient species. They ranged from primitive humanoids to advanced hexapeds to a far-advanced aquatic species. Kalvarg was the planet with the advanced water-based civilization. My hope was that they would not have a major problem with a sentient alien race occupying a small portion of dry land. I knew it was a big assumption. But I was also thinking of the annotation tagged to the system on the Adamant maps. Unclear when, if ever, this system will need to be assimilated into the empire. That meant it was slated for destruction either a long time from now, or never. That was win-win in my book for the Kaljaxians.

  In orbit, I became immediately impressed and encouraged. There were many artificial satellites. Most were communications and weather units. Some were orbiting space stations. That meant the civilization was a curious and advanced one. Also, the land masses were expansive and almost completely void of construction. Near coastlines and at scattered points elsewhere, small outposts or villages were present. But their sizes were always modest and isolated. They might have been scientific stations, sort of the reverse image of how it was on Earth. Humans had heavily populated continents with a few underwater scientific labs. The bottom line was that the dry land was open for the Kaljaxians to live on and cultivate.

  Normally I’d have contacted the local government and would have asked permission to land. But I didn’t have time. Typically, I’d alert them of my intent to resettle copious aliens too. Again, no time. If I was lucky, I had a few days left to me. The Adamant had overrun most of Kaljax at the point. There were a few unoccupied areas where I could collect Kaljaxians rapidly. After that, I was going to have to bob and weave into enemy territory to locate anybody left alive and not yet captured. If I took the time to play nice with the Kalvargians, it would cost lives. If they dragged their heels o
r put up resistance, many more would die. So, like it or not, I had to pull the classic hostile-alien-invasion card.

  “Als,” I said, “put us down near fresh running water where there is adequate cover. A temperate climate would be ideal, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “We anticipated your request and have made a selection. Shall we proceed?”

  “Is it near any coasts?”

  “No,” replied Al. “Why would that matter?”

  “In case the LIPS stage an armed attempt to repulse our refugees, I want them to have to trek across as much terrain as possible.”

  “Ah, in that case, we’ve chosen an alternate that is nearly as good.”

  “Put us there ASAP.”

  The wall opened to a hatch before my nausea settled.

  “Okay, Sapale, you’re in charge. Grab anything you might need. There’s a tent and rations in the back. Take all but one gun. Hopefully I’ll be back within half an hour with reinforcements.”

  “Will do.” She walked over to me, rose on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “It’s nice to be back in action with you.” Then she led her family through the opening.

  “Stingray, take us to the most populated area that is not currently engaged in active fighting.”

  “Of Kaljax, right?” she responded.

  “Yes, of Kaljax.” Silly computer.

  We landed in the middle of an open, grassy area in the center of a large city.

  “Als, I want to make a general announcement. Broadcast this on all local channels and put it on the public-address speakers too. ’I am Jon Ryan. I speak for Caryp of Clan Jarush-tah.’ I held up the medallion for the viewers on holo. ’She has sent me to rescue as Kaljaxians as possible. Come to this location for transport to a safe planet. Come quickly, and come with only weapons, food, and tents. There is a limit to how many I can transport. Space will be given on a first-come, first-served basis.’”

  I hit the off switch.