Its head snapped down to strike as she pulled the trigger. Three shots slammed into the dragon’s eyes and mouth in rapid succession. It staggered, and she fired again. The gunfire echoed, sounding like an entire company had unloaded on the beast. Then, it fell and went still.
“Thank you. I’ll be here all week,” she told it.
It didn’t answer. That was probably for the best.
She stripped off her jacket, wincing at her wounds.
After a few pokes, she decided it wasn’t much worse than what a cat might do, if that cat were the size of a cougar. It stung more than it bled, and it needed cleaning, but she wasn’t about to bleed out.
That was good, since she couldn’t afford to hang around. She grabbed her knife and rifle and headed for the tree line. She’d worry about first aid when she got under cover.
The wind kicked up, her hair blowing into her face, grit surrounding her like a personal cloud. The air calmed before a violent wind hit. She tried to flee, but after a night of running and hiding, her sprint wasn’t much better than a brisk walk.
A huge claw slammed into her from behind and closed around her in a steel grip. The newcomer bugled, announcing its triumph to the sleeping world. The massive dragon beat its wings once, twice, and ascended with its prize cradled in one immense talon.
***
Julia opened her eyes to a sky streaked with purple and crimson. The local star was a pale disc behind a purple smudge. Judging by its position above the horizon, it was mid-morning.
The dragon was gone, but Dante stood nearby with his back to her. She lifted her head to figure out the reason for his scrutiny. If it weren’t for his fixation with the same thing, she’d swear she was hallucinating. The air in front of the cave had been torn open, the wound bleeding color into the sky. Outer space lurked on the other side, but it looked all wrong. She couldn’t gaze at it for long, so she stood and looked around.
The hole in the sky was miles away. She and Dante were at the edge of the forest where it gave way to the alien prairie. Further down the tree line, light reflected off polished metal; it had to be the shuttle.
Dante turned to her. He’d changed. His skin had a golden sheen and a leathery texture. His eyes were narrower, his pupils turned to slits. He was alien, but he was also recognizable as the ship’s Mike. It made her shudder. She’d dealt with aliens; this was different. This was a human with the humanity stripped away.
“Captain Ronasuli. Welcome back.” He bowed, smirking insolently. That expression brought some of the humanity back to Dante’s face, but somehow made the changes worse.
“What the hell is going on, Dante? What happened to you?”
“I evolved. And, I opened a door.” He tilted his head toward the rift.
Julia’s stomach turned as three dragons entered through the opening. They circled lazily before they flew off to the south. “Those are dragons.” She reached for her sidearm. It was gone, along with her rifle and knife. “You’re bringing dragons from the Astral Plane.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my crew.”
He shrugged.
Julia grabbed his collar. Up close, he looked even more alien. His eyes could have been carved from chunks of ice, and she saw a hint of scales around his jaw. “What happened to Ensign Song?” she demanded.
“She won’t be joining us.”
Julia felt sick. She’d left the young officer with the Mystic because it was supposed to be safe. Song was her responsibility. If something had happened to her, some of that blood was on Julia’s hands. She let go and stepped back. She couldn’t stand to touch him.
“What did you do to her?”
He didn’t answer.
“Tell me why,” she said. “Why would you do this? You were one of us!”
“I was never one of you. Humanity will always be flawed as long as you continue to see only your differences. Your shortcomings divide you.” He gestured at the hole in the sky. “You could be so much more. You could be like us, if you could see beyond your limits.”
She tried to tamp down her anger. Dante was working with the dragons. It didn’t matter why. Not yet. It mattered that one had brought her to Dante. He must have control of them. If she tried to run, she might get away briefly, but he’d just send a dragon after her.
“And you think sending a herd of dragons after us will help?” she said.
“I didn’t say it was for humanity’s benefit.”
Julia scanned the area for a weapon, even a rock would do. “What about you? Why did your appearance change?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “A side-effect. It isn’t important.”
“What do you want with me?” Keep him talking.
“The Earth Fleet will realize you’re missing and come to investigate. I will need you to speak for us to prevent a war.”
“If you didn’t want a war, you shouldn’t have attacked us. They’ll come sooner than you think. Side Liner will figure out what happened and call the mothership.”
“They would…if they were awake to do it. They’re in stasis, captain. They won’t be calling anyone for help.”
Julia folded, his words a punch to the gut. She’d put more hope in her crew than she realized. The last shred went out of her, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Dante turned away. He’d dismissed her as a threat. He underestimated her, the same as so many others throughout her career. He’d taken her people away, trapped her crew. She’d kill him then and there if she didn’t fear what would happen to everyone on the Side Liner.
She didn’t know how deep Dante’s changes went. If he’d been enhanced, she couldn’t take him hand-to-hand. She’d need a weapon or some kind of edge. She stalled for time.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked, removing all emotion from her face. She’d been developing a poker face for half her life.
He turned around, and when the Mystic looked at her, she was sure he’d see only what she wanted to show him.
“You’ll cooperate?” he asked.
“I’m not on your side, but I’ll help negotiate peace. I just want to get my people out of this mess. If that means working with you, that’s what I’ll do.”
He smiled. “I hoped you would see this logically.”
It made her skin crawl. She tried not to show it. “I’ll be honest. One of your friends tore me up bad. I need the medical kit from the shuttle.”
His expression closed. “I won’t allow you onto the shuttle, captain. I am not naïve.”
“I’m not asking you to. Just look at this.” She gestured at the scratches on her arm. She knew they looked worse than they were and would help sell her case. “I need to clean this. If I die of infection before the E.F. arrives, I’m no good to you.”
He frowned. “Very well. Stay here. If you leave while I am gone, there will be no truce. Every dragon on Cavey will hunt you down. If I can’t trust you, I can’t let you live.”
She sank to the ground and sat with legs folded, her hands clasped, and focused on looking small and harmless.
Dante left, but she knew she wasn’t alone. Every so often, a dragon flew overhead. She waved at each one and counted the time between. Ten minutes, she figured.
When Dante returned, Julia had found a semi-comfortable position stretched out on the ground. She sat up, and he tossed her the medical kit.
That was what she’d been counting on. The E.F.’s Field Emergency Medical Kit was the most robust first aid kit in the history of space exploration. It had treatment for everything from explosive decompression to a splinter. It even had an adrenaline shot, which she slipped out the moment he turned his back.
A dragon flew overhead. Dante still faced the rift. She stood and closed the distance between them, then jabbed the needle into his neck. He ripped the needle away, but it was too late. He staggered and fell to his knees.
If he was lucky, he’d just be disoriented while his body reacted to the adrenaline. If he wasn’t, it would ov
erstimulate his heart. And maybe, she hoped, he’d be too concerned with staying alive to worry about her.
Julia didn’t wait to find out. She ran.
The dash to the shuttle was the longest moment of her life, one she would dream about for years to come. She imagined dragons on her heels, or Dante waiting for her in the ship. She didn’t relax until she’d gotten out of the planet’s atmosphere and set a course for the mothership.
CHAPTER THREE
Outside the confines of the material plane stood another dimension, the Astral Plane. Galaxies spun in the vastness, part of a whole yet entirely separate from each other. Their fiery dance took the galaxies in patterns that mirrored the galaxies themselves.
At their narrowest, the spaces between these meta-stars would take several million human lifetimes to cross. When Dante tore the veil the Astral Plane quaked with the rift at the epicenter, the effect moving outward at a frequency too alien for mortal Mystics to detect. It beckoned the dragons of the Milky Way, enticing them to pass through the portal into the material plane.
But the dragons weren’t the only creatures to feel the pull of the rift. The wave rippled outward, escaping the galactic rim to make its way in the darkness beyond. The furthest edge of it splashed over a sleeping presence in the void.
The Wyrm had slept for ten thousand years, its mind turned inward after a long exile, until nothing but its hunter was left. Yet it was always on the edge of consciousness, denied true rest by its ravenous nature. The shockwave jarred it awake, and it opened one topaz eye.
It saw the cause at once. There was a passage between the Astral Plane and the physical world. It drew dragons like a new star, and the Wyrm felt the same pull. There would be power there. Sustenance. And most important of all, an end to its exile.
Dark wings flared out from its long body, and it slashed at its sleeping companions, harassing them into wakefulness. They woke snarling and ravenous, but their hissed threats died out when they saw the rift. They looked at each other and snapped their wings in wordless agreement.
They would take the rift and the world beyond. They would consume it, and spawn younglings to tear the child planets apart. All life, from the smallest weed to the wisest creature, would suffer–their guardian dragons along with them…
***
In the heart of the capital city the Academy of Mystics stood surrounded by acres of parkland isolating the school from the city’s noise. Most of the park was forest, intermittent clearings providing solace to wanderers. Some held fountains, some statuary. They made peaceful places to study, meditate, or simply find privacy away from both the city and the Academy.
Mystic First Class Coraolis enjoyed his lunch in one such clearing. He sat in the shade cast by an abstract sculpture. No one knew what it was meant to represent. Personally, Coraolis thought it signified something in the Astral Plane, although no evidence supported his theory.
He liked looking at it. He also enjoyed that particular glade’s privacy. This part of the park was remote and a bit of a hike to reach. He didn’t mind the exercise, and he found the reward well worth it.
He closed his eyes as his teeth sank into his sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly. Perfection. After a morning of teaching abstract concepts, simple pleasures like this brought him back to earth. He followed the bite with a sip of hot tea, then lowered the cup.
He knew he wasn’t alone. The powers that let him commune with other Mystics often let him know when another was near. He’d also heard leaves crackling under someone’s foot.
“No need to be shy. There’s enough room for two,” he said. “Come on out.”
He expected to see one of his students emerge from the trees with some burning question that couldn’t wait for office hours. A silver-haired Administrator came into view instead.
“Good afternoon, Coraolis,” he said. “We need to talk.”
Coraolis took a moment to get over his surprise. Rubin wasn’t part of the school administration, and he wasn’t on rotation as an instructor, like Coraolis. While any Mystic was welcome at the Academy, it was unusual to see one who worked with the Earth Fleet. He was rumored to be part of the Secret Council itself.
“Of course, Administrator Rubin,” he said, and smiled. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“No. Thank you.” Rubin looked at Coraolis’s lunch and slightly shook his head. “I have a directive for you from the Secret Council.”
Coraolis felt a jolt. This confirmed Rubin’s position. That was unexpected.
“A mission? But I have two years left on this teaching rotation,” he said.
He wasn’t arguing. He was pointing out the obvious. Every M1C cycled between three years flying with the E.F. and three years of teaching at the Academy. He enjoyed teaching. He liked taking new Mystics under his wing, and he often asked for partners fresh out of the Academy. However, little compared to exploring far corners of the universe, to being the first mind to touch a new world.
“This is a unique situation.” Rubin took a datapad out of his pocket and handed it to Coraolis. “Here. This has all the information you need.”
Coraolis scrolled through the screens and saw images of a planet called Cavey, a single Mystic, and an E.F. Captain. He paused, scrolled back, and skimmed over the personnel backgrounds.
“There’s only one Mystic listed here. Who was the other?” he asked. “Where are they?”
“There wasn’t another. M1C Dante—"
“Sir, excuse me, but that can’t be right. There’s always a second Mystic.”
“Not in this case.”
Coraolis raised his eyebrows. He waited, but the Administrator just gestured at the datapad. Evidently, he was to read it all in Rubin’s presence.
The report was just this side of unbelievable. Dante had torn a hole between the material world and the Astral Plane. Dragons were invading their reality. Several of Side Liner’s away team had been killed, and only the captain escaped.
“This is impossible.”
“You know better than that,” Rubin said, tapping his foot impatiently.
Coraolis frowned. He’d been ordered to keep quiet about the dragon who had found its way into the physical world. He’d been doing his best not to think about it, either. He’d hoped it was a fluke, or that the Secret Council had found a way to address it.
“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said. “It just confuses me. Why didn’t Dante have a partner? This happened because he didn’t have backup.”
“That is the Council’s concern. Rest assured, you’ll have a companion when you confront the rogue Mystic,” Rubin said. “You have your orders. Good hunting.”
Administrator Rubin departed the clearing. Coraolis skimmed through the information again, trying to make sense of it. A Mystic alone would be as good as dead. Mystics needed their partner’s strength to get through every mission.
He’d tell his students he wouldn’t be teaching the rest of their classes, but he couldn’t tell them he may never return. This news shocked him to say the least. Dragons. In the material world. And a Mystic gone rogue.
***
The Academy resembled a normal college campus in many ways with its buildings centered around a grassy expanse called the Quad. Four academic buildings arose at the cardinal points with dormitories, libraries, and cafeterias between.
The buildings glittered in the late afternoon sun. They looked sculpted rather than built, with sweeping lines and jewel-like facets. The design facilitated the solar panels that provided most of the power, making the design practical yet added to their profession’s mystique.
Coraolis normally stopped to appreciate the scenery, but not today. He only had a week to get his answers, and time seemed to accelerate. He’d tried talking to Rubin again, but the Administrator wouldn’t take his calls. Coraolis had one choice; to go forth with blind faith in the Council. He’d do what they would ask, although he felt compelled to do a little digging.
He saw Villalobos the moment he walked into the c
ampus café. She nursed a cup of coffee, a half-eaten key lime pie at her elbow, her nose buried in a book—something with pirates on the cover. She put it down when he slid into the booth opposite her.
“Good to see you, Cor.” She grinned. “Too bad you only visit when you want something.”
“Not true. I brought you pie on your birthday.”
She laughed. “Okay, yeah. At least you bring me interesting things when you come calling.”
“Interesting? I made that pie myself,” he pretended to be outraged. “You should be grateful! It’s the first one I’ve made in ten years!”
“Aha, that explains a lot.” She poked him and motioned for him to sit on her side of the booth. “Come over here, buddy. I’ve got something to show you.”
He moved next to her. From there, he could see everyone in the café, from the tired waitress behind the counter to the young Mystics wandering in and out. No one could get close enough to look over their shoulders.
Villalobos took a datapad out of her well-worn backpack and logged in. The screen was immediately flooded with nonsense letters and numbers. She pressed a few keys, and the screen faded into another set of data. She handed him the pad and went back to sipping her coffee.
His eyebrows went up. The pad was connected to the Secret Council’s mainframe. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed she’d done it since he called her, or that she’d made a secure connection from a campus café.
“This seems a little public for espionage, doesn’t it?” he murmured, looking over the interface.
“The noise means we can talk without being overheard, and everyone here is using the free connection. Even if they detected you, we’d be lost in digital debris.” She made a sweeping motion at their surroundings. “I mean, I had to make some adjustments on my end to take advantage, but we’re fine. Trust me.”
It was probably true; even the patrons engaged in conversation had a phone in hand, and he could see at least a dozen laptops besides. He still felt twitchy, but they were committing a crime. It was right to be nervous.
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