by Cara Bristol
“They believe Rhianna is you?” her father asked.
“Unless she tells them otherwise, yes.”
“Is there any doubt?”
“Shouldn’t there be?” Helena snapped. “We blindsided her. She was shocked, but she went along with it. I think she’ll continue the ruse.” She pressed her lips together.
“How many dragons did you see?” asked her father’s chief adviser Jackson Biggs.
“One. The Draconian minister. He rattled off his name in Dragonish, so I couldn’t catch it, but it was Qatin something.” She paused. “He appeared in human form.”
“His humanoid shape. They call it demiforma. Half shift,” Biggs corrected her with only the slightest trace of condescension in his voice since the president was present.
In private, he wasn’t so polite. He and Helena often had butted heads. He’d been the architect of the “the plan” in its original and amended forms while she’d been its most vocal opponent. She’d lost, and he’d never let her forget it. Not that she would. What have I done? How did I become the kind of person who betrays her best friend?
Biggs’ lip curled. “They still look like dragons.”
“No.” She slapped her palms on the conference table and glared at him. “I mean, he looked human.”
Once she would have found satisfaction in one-upping him, but rivalries no longer mattered. There could be no good outcome to his plan, only bad and worse.
“No tail, no horns?” her father asked.
“No. Other than being taller and larger than the average man, he could have been one of us. He even had brown eyes.”
“We could have been infiltrated,” Biggs said. “There could be dragons on Earth, living among us. We need to do a sweep of the citizenry, round up anyone suspicious.”
“That would be no one and everyone.” Swallowing her fear of him, she glared and said, “You could be a dragon.” He was certainly dangerous enough. “I’m telling you the Draconian minister was indistinguishable from human. You can’t detain innocent people.”
“For the safety of the nation—”
“Helena is right,” her father said. “Besides, I’m certain if the Draconians had planted spies, they’ve extracted them by now. They wouldn’t leave their own people to be killed if they attack.”
“They might sacrifice them. We keep referring to them as people,” Biggs said. “They’re not people. They don’t think or act like us. They’re fire-breathing, vicious reptiles.”
And I sent my best friend on a one-way trip to an entire planet of them.
It offered little solace to her conscience that she’d risked her safety by trying to talk Rhianna out of going. She’d had to couch her warning in such a way that Secret Service agents who might have been loyal to Biggs wouldn’t realize what she was saying—but, unfortunately, Rhianna hadn’t caught on, either.
“Why don’t we give them Elementa?” she said. “That’s what they want.”
Biggs shot her a scathing look.
The president shook his head. “Not an option. They pose a grave danger, and Elementa is far too close to Earth. It’s one thing to have enemies; it’s another to have them move in next door. We’d live under constant threat of attack.”
The planet was actually quite a distance away, but there was no point arguing over the definition of close, not when the location wasn’t the real reason they wanted Elementa. Nobody would admit the truth because what did it say about a nation that risked an entire population for a shot at military superiority?
She gestured at the subterranean briefing room. “We’re under threat of attack now! Look where we are! We’re hiding a mile underground. If we’d let them have what they wanted, we could have avoided all of this.”
Biggs’ lips curled. “That kind of naïveté results in poor interplanetary policy. Once again, let me point out they’re not like us. It was only a matter of time before a conflict arose.”
“This is more than a conflict. We’re facing annihilation!”
“It won’t come to that. The plan is going to work.”
“For the love of god, if we hadn’t taken Elementa, we wouldn’t have needed to resort to this.”
“This is the new reality, the new future. The dragons may not be the biggest threat out here. Other aliens could be worse. We have to prepare to defend ourselves,” Biggs said.
“If we don’t focus on now, there may be no future!”
Her father spoke. “Helena, I appreciate your concerns, but we must safeguard our interests. When we claimed Elementa, we had no idea the dragons were interested in it. What’s done is done. We can only move forward.”
“Now that we know, we should give it back. It’s not worth the risk,” she persisted.
“Which circles back to the main problem of having them so near: we would be under constant threat,” her father said. “We can’t trust them. They aren’t like us.” He paused. “This assignment was difficult for you, but you can’t allow emotion to interfere with decisions. Sacrifices must be made.”
“It’s not right,” she said. “Rhianna was never informed she wouldn’t be coming home.”
“It’s necessary,” he replied.
“We couldn’t stop it now even if we wanted to,” Biggs said. “The asset is on her way to Draco.”
“The asset has a name. Rhianna. She’s my friend.”
“I’m sorry,” her father said. “I know how much she meant to you. I liked her, too. She was a lovely woman.”
Helena choked back tears. Her father spoke of Rhianna as if she’d died. She hadn’t. Not yet, anyway. But, if she got an audience with the dragon king? “Would you be so matter-of-fact if I was headed for Draco?”
“I would never have sent you. We would have found an alternative.”
She slammed her fist on the table. “Then why the hell didn’t you?”
“Because the alternative is surrender,” he said quietly.
She wanted to believe her father had the best intentions—saving the world—but she wasn’t sure. He’d allowed himself to be influenced and manipulated by Biggs, whom she’d grown to fear, although she tried not to show it.
Biggs had “served” in various advisory capacities throughout her father’s political career. She used to believe he’d ridden her father’s coattails, but she’d learned the hard way he wielded the real power.
He had been the first to suggest Rhianna could be useful to the administration.
The friendship had been honest and true. Helena had laughed at meeting her doppelgänger at a college sorority function. Not only did they strongly resemble each other, they’d dressed alike.
Raised in politics, Helena had many frenemies but few genuine friends. She’d intended to join her father’s administration after graduation; she’d been groomed for the role and assumed one day she might run for office herself. After swimming with sharks and tiptoeing through political minefields on a regular basis, having a friend, a real friend, meant more to Helena than Rhianna could possibly know.
She was open and real in a way other people in Helena’s life weren’t. And Helena had been open and real with her. Until recently.
I’ve become what I despise.
The beginning of the end started with the best of intentions. Helena had invited her new friend to her home, at the time, the governor’s mansion. Of course, the similarity in their appearance had been noted and joked about. Over the years, the Marshfields had taken Rhianna under their wing. Helena had thought it was generous and kind the way her wealthy father helped her friend of modest means fund her education. She’d found it amusing when her friend stood in for her as a body double at public functions when she needed to sneak away early. What a lark!
No lark. A trial run. Biggs had been testing to see if Rhianna could pass for Helena. The nudge into Draconian Relations, the scholarship, the job offer—all had been bestowed so Rhianna would become indebted, would owe favors. That’s how
the game of politics was played.
Back then, relations with Draco had been amicable, and Biggs couldn’t have predicted how they would deteriorate, but even then, he’d been looking ahead like a master chess player, setting up moves no one else could see yet.
His criticism of her as naïve rankled because it was true. By the time she realized what was happening, Biggs had Rhianna locked on his radar screen. The dragons had threatened to attack, and Rhianna and her family had been offered refuge in Bunker One in another calculated move to ensure she owed the Marshfield administration more than she could repay.
So, when she’d been asked to accompany Helena to Draco, how could Rhianna refuse?
Helena had been kept in the dark as to the true nature of the plan.
Once she’d considered herself an equal, integral member of her father’s security cabinet. Blinders off, she saw through the illusion. Only one player counted.
Biggs. Officially, his title was chief special advisor. Unofficially? Whispered gossip dubbed him “the fixer.” He fixed problems. Fixed meaning made disappear. Problems meaning people.
When the dragons had requested Earth send a consort, Biggs had jumped on the idea and suggested the president’s daughter. Attractive, smart, savvy, connected to one of Earth’s most powerful leaders, Helena would make a good impression.
Of course, no one would risk the life of the first daughter, so in Biggs’ plan, a body double would be substituted…Rhianna. However, they were certain no matter how much she “owed” them, she wouldn’t agree. So, she would have to be unwittingly drafted.
Helena had railed against the idea and refused to dupe her friend.
Whereupon, privately, Biggs had taken her aside and explained how problems could be fixed.
Then she learned who ran the country, and it wasn’t the president.
Under surveillance, her private apartment bugged, Helena never had an opportunity to warn Rhianna. But, she refused to betray her. Secretly, she decided to go to Draco with her. Her father wouldn’t be pleased, and Biggs would go ballistic. But, on Draco, Helena would be out of reach. Ironically, the alien planet might be the safest place to be.
Then, the day before departure, the president recorded his message, and Helena was briefed about the rest of the plan. She tried to record another message for Rhianna.
“I am sorry,” her father said again. “It may not be a consolation now, but her service will not be in vain. War will be averted. Billions of lives will be saved. Her family will never want for anything.”
If you didn’t count wanting their daughter and sister back.
“If there’s nothing else, I have an outfit to burn.” She pushed back from the table and left the briefing room.
Chapter Nine
“Don’t what?” K’ev asked as he entered the lounge.
“Nothing. I was talking to myself.” Rhianna fiddled with her hair, adjusting it to cover her ears. Still glossy and almost crackling with vitality, it looked more brownish with red highlights than the blazing, fiery orange he remembered. Did her coloring change naturally, or had she done something to alter it? Did it feel as soft and silky as it appeared? In demiforma, hair was wiry and coarse. Full dragons had only a few stiff bristles.
Touch. Touch Rhianna, the dragon urged.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We passed through the fold in space.”
Her mouth drooped, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. “I realized after a while what was happening. It was freaky.” She scooted forward to place her feet on the deck and stood. “Am I okay? I’m not distorted, am I?”
He chuckled. “You haven’t changed. The compression warp doesn’t alter molecular structure; it only feels like it does. If you travel often, you acclimate. You’ll be fine now. This leg of the voyage will be smooth.”
“This leg of the voyage?” She picked up on his wording right away.
“There’s been a change. We’re not going straight to Draco.”
“Where are we going?” Wariness wafted off her.
Distrust ran so deep between their peoples that a simple statement about a change in itinerary aroused suspicion. Did natural dishonesty cause humans to automatically mistrust others? After an initial cautious amity following the first contact, relations between Draco and Earth had deteriorated rapidly. The humans had reeked of untruths, distrust, and disrespect. Dragons noticed their scents did not match their words.
“We’re taking a slight detour.” He flared his nostrils, paying close attention to the smells. “The king is sending me to Elementa.”
“What’s that?”
He detected no lies. She didn’t know what Elementa was. Odd. “It’s a planet,” he said. “The king believes your people may have established a colony.”
She canted her head and frowned. “A colony? On another planet? Impossible! We haven’t colonized anything. Other than Draco, years ago, Mars is the only other planet we’ve set foot on. And we haven’t colonized it. It’s not habitable.”
“Neither is Elementa—for humans.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Your Earth government has. They staked a flag with intention to claim it, and we have reason to believe your people may be attempting to colonize it.”
“I don’t know where you got your information, but it’s inaccurate. If we’d colonized another planet, I would have heard.” She motioned between K’ev and herself. “When contact was made with Draco, everybody knew. It was the event of the century. The discovery and colonization of another planet would be just as big.”
“I never said Earth discovered Elementa,” he corrected her. She gave her people too much credit. However, she emitted no scent of deception; she believed her words. Apparently, Earth’s ruling authorities had no qualms about deceiving its own people.
She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re contradicting yourself. First you say Elementa isn’t habitable for humans, and then you say Earth has colonized it. How could we colonize a planet that isn’t habitable?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out. Elementa is a lot like Draco is—or was. Volcanic. Hot. There’s water, but it’s steam or, if liquid, scalding. The atmosphere is a mix of oxygen and nitrogen, but also some other gases, which, if you are exposed for a length of time, are harmful. Living there long-term would require significant terraforming or construction of fully-contained bio habitats.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t sound like anything we would be interested in.”
“Elementa is rich in noble metals Earth considers precious: gold, silver, platinum, palladium, osmium, and rhodium.” He didn’t reveal anything her government didn’t already know.
“Oh…” she said with far less conviction. “Why do you care if we have colonized it?”
“Because Draco found it first.”
“You want the metals.”
“We desire another home.”
“What’s wrong with the one you have?”
“We’ll leave that discussion for another time,” he sidestepped. Earth had no idea how critical Elementa was to dragon survival—and he intended to keep it that way. He doubted the king would allow Rhianna to return to Earth, but who could know for certain? He wouldn’t give the enemy information that could be used against Draco.
“How long before we get there?” she asked.
“We arrive tomorrow.”
“How long will we stay?”
“Long enough to get answers.”
“And then we go to Draco?”
“Yes.”
“How long is the flight from Elementa to Draco?”
“Two to four days.”
“So Earth is closer to Elementa than it is to Draco?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Is there a reason why you can’t answer them? I am your intended consort.” She looked at him from beneath her las
hes.
“Helena was the intended consort,” he corrected, but a sudden heat licked at his loins, and his dragon growled as visions of coupling with her filled his head. He pictured mounting her, driving into her soft body, marking her with his scent. “You are—”
How would he introduce her to the king? He had a strong premonition his father at best would consider her only as a hostage to be leveraged. Lust receded under concern. She would become a prisoner of war. And if the king proceeded to destroy Earth, he might also order Rhianna’s execution. What would be the point of keeping one lone human alive?
His dragon went wild, snarling, fighting for dominance, to force a shift so he could defend Rhianna from the threat. It was all K’ev could do to contain him.
With a strangled cry, Rhianna stumbled backward. His dragon roared again, this time at her fear. She looked terrified now. In attempting to protect her, the dragon had frightened her more.
Sacred fyre! K’ev swore silently. “You heard that?”
She swallowed. Slowly she nodded. “In my head. You roared.”
Only the rare mated pair could communicate telepathically. Despite what his dragon thought he wanted, Rhianna had no fyre. She could not be their mate. She never should have been able to pick up on the subaural vocalization.
“That wasn’t me. It was my dragon.”
“You are the dragon.”
Duality proved a difficult concept for singular beings to grasp. “We are one and the same, and we are separate. Two fyres burning as one flame able to manifest in two bodies.” Or more. Draconians could shift into many forms, but typically adopted only two, full dragon and the half-shift demiforma. “My dragon is instinctive, perceptive. The man is civilized, rational.”
He wanted her to respect his alter-self, have a healthy awe of him, but flinching and cringing every time he communicated his presence wouldn’t serve any purpose. “I think it’s time you met him,” he said.
Yesss. Meet Rhianna!