Resurrection Dawn

by Marc Secchia

Standard 1301.07.26.24 Estimated – Undercover Operation

  SAMODEÉ POWERED ALOFT, RISING into an early afternoon turned an eerie, orange-tinged gloom by the sheer thickness of the carnoraptor super-migration flying overhead. The rushing of wings was as great as any storm. No stopping this. They had made a respectable dent in the numbers, however. Time to hunker down and start working on an alliance.

  What happened to Tamanzi?

  AVACS craft and a few remaining combat flyers whizzed down the tunnel, interspersed with Dragons. They came in thick and fast, a stream almost touching one another’s muzzles and tails. The golden Serpents undulated away underground, but Ssirinssar waited near the entrance, clearly seeing to the safety of everyone else before he would even consider his own hide.

  As the Dragons and Lightning Pygmies up top peeled away after their final attack, Alodeé formed those blades in her mind. Contain it. Keep it close, cool, efficient. Focus on the orange ranks now swelling as they gave chase.

  Alo – Ssirinssar!

  Her mother’s desperate wail had barely risen from her mind when Alodeé lashed out at an enemy lurking at the very fringe of her awareness. Something oily, cold and deeply alien washed over her, seeming to suck energy out of her body. A raw scream ripped out of her throat. The thing writhed under her attack, its death throes clawing at her mind. Song rose. Somewhere inside of her there was a Dragon and light and …

  Alodeé slumped, panting heavily as four dark, oily patches splashed on the ground beside Ssirinssar.

  The great Serpent Dragon shook himself. “Alodeé …”

  What just hit me?

  “Obsidian Shaman Flyers,” he said melodiously. “You saved my life.”

  I … thought you did? Oh. Good result –

  GO!! he roared.

  Good thing Samodeé was alert, because – she frowned – time had distorted, somehow? What the freak were those things? Some kind of acidic metal compound living in a semi-fluid body, was her best guess. A body that generated weird, wacky physical and psychic energy fields and had just given her the mother of all migraines.

  Last couple of Dragons incoming. Samodeé poured flame over the attacking carnoraptors. The Oraman regiment fell back steadily, protecting Ssirinssar’s tail as he smoothly shifted away into the underground ship. Check the doors. Yep, ready either side. Here were the support I-beams prepped to be nano-welded into place immediately. Four Dragons and a squad of engineers stood ready, cables running from their equipment away down the corridor. She glanced up and around them – oh, crud!

  Move it, Mama Dragon!

  Samodeé dived on top of Ssirinssar’s back, grunting an apology as a titanic tide of orange poured over the entrance. Whirling off his back, she cracked open her jaw and hit them with everything she had. Seen in the half-dark of bodies eclipsing the remaining daylight, Alodeé saw the colours swirling in her Dragon flame, so many brilliant shades of orange, yellow and white, even a hint of her natural emerald. The fury of her fires raged in the entryway, setting the bodies alight and igniting the creatures still trying to force entry.

  “Come on, hot stuff.” Alodeé patted her neck. “Walk backward for me.”

  GNARRR!!

  “I know, but we have to shut up this roost.”

  Backing up together, Alodeé would have stumbled, but for a strong arm that stole about her waist. “Lean on me, Alo. You look terrible.”

  “Tomaxx. Thanks. Got a bit rough … outside.”

  “Alo – no kidding!” Removing his helmet, he bent to whisper in her ear as they backed up past the engineers. Dragons pushed the doors upright. The high-pitched whine of nano-welding picked up immediately. “Am I seeing things or does this Dragon – and you – I mean? Right?”

  She froze for a sec, then sighed. Better start on the right foot. “Keep it under your helmet, alright?”

  His eyes widened.

  “I promise I will explain everything just as soon as I can.”

  “About the kiss –”

  “You’re having second thoughts?”

  “No!”

  So vehement, he blew her hair over her eyes! She chuckled, “I see.”

  “I’m glad you do. Because there are more where that came from … ah, if … you’re alright with it, Alodeé? I’ve had a lot of time to think, you see …”

  Sweetest tank beneath the planetary rings! Warm and tingly feelings churned around her heart, setting it off at –well, this had to crack the 800 barrier, minimum. She breathed back, “Isn’t it unlike a proper Oraman to be so meek, mild and unassuming?”

  “Oh, I’m a very improper Oraman,” he confessed. Wicked quirk of the lips!

  “Mmm, I’m liking you more by the sec, Mister –”

  “Brace!” roared the Dragons.

  Bodies thumped against the doorway, shaking it violently. A Dragoness of Teal shoved a thick beam into place with her shoulder, wielding a welding tech in either forepaw. Guess the alliance was in good paws already. Yep and Mom had a mental smirk for her; clear reminder about that ‘total dish’ comment related to this man of chiselled jawline and high, slanted cheekbones … oh dear, guess Mom received all her feelings loud and clear.

  Turning about, they marched together into the depths of the artificial hill.

  Her ear Comms unit came to life. “Alomonster? You there?”

  “Coming in, Dad.”

  “Last but not least, eh? Guess it runs in the family. All good? I felt you cry out earlier, like you were hurt?”

  “Yep, one last tangle with the cause of this migration, Dad. We need to talk.”

  Not as many of them as I thought. Where are all the rest? Did the Shaman things let us off easy … or is something else going on? Alodeé scratched her cheek and discovered she had pulled open a cut. Great.

  “You’ll have to give me a min. Arrangements. Plus, I’m due to get bawled out from a dizzy height any sec now.”

  “Switch back to photon cannons if you like.”

  He gave that a piratical chuckle. “Oh, you’re a sly one, Alo. Nice touch. Locked us all in with several thousand Dragons and these little lightning people. What could possibly go wrong?”

  She did not dignify that with a comment. Far too nervous.

  The tunnel opened out into an area that had previously served as a hangar. It had now been returned to its original purpose. Only, no-one had ever imagined hundreds of Dragons lining a hangar floor, a few of them helping to shift AVACS craft out of the way, a couple of others introducing themselves to the openly dumbfounded Oraman troops.

  Tomaxx said, “We share a few words, did you hear? Oraman and Dragon-whatever-ese.”

  “Pyromelodic Ultraflutic Crystese,” she said absently, sensing something right across the hangar floor, 200 mets away. “PUC for short.”

  “Alright, Alo?” he inquired.

  Glancing up, she saw her father swivel as if pricked by an invisible talon. Oh, crud. Here we go.

  Samodeé stared at Dymand. Her Dad stared at the Dragoness of Emerald. His eyes flicked to Alodeé, then back to her Mom. Did she imagine a crackle in the air? A frisson of recognition?

  Men and women in suits and uniform talked earnestly to him up on a metal platform that stood a handful of mets above the hangar floor. Dad had apparently forgotten they existed. His eyes! Oh how those dark eyes gleamed, his bronzed skin turning pale, his knuckles whitening upon the portable holo reader he clutched in his hands. Samodeé’s breath rasped once, twice, as her gaze remained fixated on that man in his combat armour, the CLB-4001 holstered diagonally upon his back for a change.

  This reunion was not about to wait, was it?

  Reaching out, Alodeé shoved the stunned Dragoness in the haunches. “Walk.”

  Her mother stumbled and almost fell on her nose. Then, walk she did. One giant paw ahead of the next. Her awkwardness turned into fluid, beguiling ease as her eye fires brightened. The rhythm of her movement became sinuous, a Dragoness stalking her mate, an almost unbearable expression of passion, yearning a
nd loss. All across the hangar, the Dragons stilled. Ssirinssar gazed on, serene. The Humanoid crews and soldiers fell silent, too, sensing tension in the air, turning to watch her approach.

  Dymand’s colleagues turned also, their faces curious, shocked and confused.

  The holo reader snapped in his fingers with a sharp crack!

  He knew. That was how she knew he knew. No need for explanations. The lump of his throat worked; self-consciously, he smoothed his sleek black hair and straightened into a posture Alodeé did not think she had ever seen in her father before – a younger man’s nervous posturing as the girl of his dreams approached. He could not tear his eyes off her.

  Guess there was rather a lot of Mom these days.

  At a Dragon’s pace, 200 mets was hardly a moment. Alodeé floated across. A floor and Tomaxx’s strong arm existed, but she was not sure she felt them.

  Samodeé slowed as she approached the platform, searching with her eyes.

  Dragoness and man gazed at one another in awe.

  Husband and wife.

  His throat worked again. “Are you … do I know … you? Samodeé?”

  “D-D-Dymand?” she stammered.

  Without blinking, they moved together – him to the safety railing, her to lower her muzzle toward him. Almost touching, but not quite.

  “Samodeé?” he repeated, his question trying to firm up into a statement but not quite making it as yet. His daughter knew that feeling all too well! “I’d know those eyes anywhere in the galaxy.”

  Alodeé distinctly heard her mother’s fires blush within her body.

  My Dymand. You look … handsome.

  “How can this be?” he asked, his voice cracking as he looked her over and then his gaze dropped to Alodeé. “How? Alo – what?”

  This is real, Dad. Trust me.

  He nodded slowly. Guess the telepathy was quite the giveaway, wasn’t it?

  The man standing alongside Dymand’s elbow spluttered, “This what? Are you freaking insane?” When he received no answer, he said, “First, you have us switch off the cannons and take in all these beasts; now you’re saying this monster’s your dead wife?”

  “Yep, that’s about right,” he drawled.

  The man cursed.

  “In the last 10 secs or so, I’ve learned that this world is called Resurrection Dawn for a reason,” he added dreamily. “Samodeé, you look totally … amazing.”

  As he spoke, the official reached for his palm blaster, roaring, “You traitor! I’ll finish this!”

  Alodeé sprang for his throat in a blur, but Dymand was far closer. His fist blurred in a short, brutal uppercut. The man hit the metal flooring with a loud clang and did not move again.

  “Guess that’s been coming for a while,” he said, and shook his wrist. “Dang it, that hurt.”

  Whipping beneath the railing, Alodeé helped herself to the blaster and then stood up beside her father. “So, introductions are hardly necessary, I feel, but here we go. Dymand, meet Samodeé, Dragoness of Emerald. Samodeé, meet Dymand, your smirkin’ merc and hus-bandit – I’ve been wanting to say that, oh, forever!” She flushed at the squeal in her voice. “Oh and Mom, this fine young gentleman still looking at his arm, wondering where I vanished to, is Tomaxx. I would also like you to meet Ssirinssar of Gold, the leader of the Dragons, Serpent Dragons and Lightning Pygmy forces. He’s a good egg.”

  “You are incorrigible!” her father spluttered, planting a smacker on her cheek. “Everyone, this is my daughter Alodeé, who, as you’ll remember, we set out in search of a couple of months back. Pretty rough trip, explain later,” he said aside. “If I’m not mistaken, it appears she’s also responsible for saving all of our skins.”

  Cheers resounded around the hangar.

  “Just a passenger on a wild ride,” she said, examining her toes for defects.

  Dad smacked her on the shoulder. “Chin up, you.”

  “You starting with me?” Chuckling, Alodeé said, “I think it would be good for the leaders to discuss some ground rules. You probably weren’t really ready to take in a few thousand more mouths, but I know Dragons only need to eat once or twice a week. Unless they like carnoraptor gunge?”

  “About as much as lumoslugs.” Samodeé pulled a face. “However, in a pinch …”

  “Dad, I can call in the Lightning Pygmy and Dragon leaders. Ssirinssar is right here, so if you have the leaders from Central –”

  “That’s us, young lady,” said one of the men, Controller Yazin. “Plus a few Oraman to make up the general heft. Tomaxx, could you call Giantixx over as well, please? Oh and get a security detail up here, please and clap our precious Elder Farinku in restraints. I’m declaring the investigation into his conduct up at Hazmuri Falls official.”

  “Check, sir,” he saluted smartly.

  Obedient, that one, Samodeé observed dryly.

  Doesn’t kiss too obediently, mind, she shot back, merely for the blood-fizzing pleasure of seeing both her parents blush at the same time.

  Dymand stepped politely on her foot. “Any more orders, Alomonster?”

  “Oh no, Dad,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I’ll leave you to attend to the important details. I’m famished.”

  Dad touched his Comms. “Would someone please feed my daughter before she eats me?”

  Laughter echoed around the hangar.

  Yazin touched his shoulder. “That’s the all-channels Comms, Dymand.”

  “Oops.” He coloured, then threw up his hands. “Oh, feed it to the canids! Settlement Central, listen up. I have an important announcement.” Pausing, he grinned at Samodeé. “Today, I am the happiest man on this planet, because my wife is alive!”

  That fairly much brought the ceiling down.

  * * * *

  Tomaxx tracked her down at Medic Tamanzi’s bedside. Alodeé had been sitting with her for a long while, thinking and grieving. Tamanzi had said she was unlucky in love. Just how much, no-one could have imagined. Now, she had paid the ultimate price. The monitors registered zero brain activity. Medically dead, but kept alive by the support medbot. Her face looked serenely beautiful.

  “Hey. You alright?”

  She glanced up. Tomaxx wore standard-issue trousers over his combat skin and a light blue T-shirt that glued itself to his muscles in enough places to make a girl look twice. Oh, whatever. Three times, with a pause to mop up a great deal of imaginary drool …

  “Yep.” Sigh. “No, not really. Will you sit with me? Do you know what happened to her?”

  “Some.”

  Pulling up a chair, he reversed it and sat legs akimbo, arms dangling over the edge. He wound his fingers into hers. “She’s really your mother, Alo? I mean, the likeness is pretty freaky. Plus, I noticed she’s a bit different to the other Dragons. Extra set of fancy wings, differences in body shape …”

  “I believe so. I mean, I’ll tell you how I found her. It’s a crazy story.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Do you believe us? Plenty of people don’t, I’d guess.”

  Reaching into his back trousers pocket, he pulled out a small, portable holo reader. “Your Dad asked me to share this with you. It’s a genetic print-match – your Mom’s. I’ve not read it, as I wanted you to read it first.”

  She scanned the figures. Four times. “Must be a mistake.”

  “Is it?”

  “Read this.”

  After scanning the figures and the brief report below, Tomaxx shrugged. “The doctor’s explanation is pretty clear and totally mind-blowing. Your mother is 100% Humanoid and 100% Dragon at the same time. The correlation of the Humanoid genetic strain matches at the atomic level to the trillionth degree of accuracy. She could not be more Samodeé. Look at this detail. You know the standard double-helix DNA strand? Well, at the sub-molecular level, the imaging suggests that she now has a quintuple helix. The additional helices being light or crystal, the tech could not figure out which.”

  Alodeé blinked. “Grief, have you been stud
ying –”

  “Comparative Humanoid anatomical molecular biology is a bit of a … hobby. Weird, right?”

  “Very, not.” She chuckled at his woebegone expression. “Maybe I like a hunky nerd. So, you can tell me all about my anatomy? I mean – help! I didn’t just say that, did I?”

  Guess she now had a pink Oraman on her hands. For her part, she burned up to the tips of her ears.

  He grinned, “I am far too well brought-up to ever suggest such a thing.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun at all.”

  “My interest in your anatomy is purely scientific, I assure you.”

  “Rotten liar.”

  “Amongst other things,” he agreed. “Moving swiftly on to safer ground, a summary. The hulking creature on paws who gave me the evil ‘that’s my daughter you’re holding’ glare is 100% scientifically proven to be your mother, plus some extra.”

  “Wow. I guess your life wouldn’t be worth living if she’d seen that kiss?”

  “Probably not.” He raised her knuckles to his lips. “Alodeé, forgive me, but I’m finding it hard to sit here cracking jokes, in front of Tamanzi, I mean. Or to admit how much I want to kiss you again, but can’t. Not before –”

  “Sorry. Subject avoidance.”

  “Ah!” His preoccupied frown cleared. “I guess we just deal with things in different ways.”

  “Me chunky Oraman – charge, hammer, destroy! Me little Alodeé – duck, avoid, procrastinate.”

  His grin widened.

  Now she seriously wanted to kiss him silly. Bad Alodeé. Down, beast-girl.

  Tomaxx said, “Tamanzi’s late husband was a researcher named Jamy-tar-Bakurini, of the Bakurini Brain Interface fame. If you don’t know the history, basically, he was researching not interfaces so much as controlling the brain through implantation of control chips and override mechanisms. His work was eventually discredited and banned throughout the Sentient Planets because his subjects had a way of dying or going mad. He never got it right, although he tried – a lot.”

  Alodeé winced. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. When we flew out in search of you – I mean, your Dad, he was incredible. Implacable. He talked anyone and everyone around into supporting a research slash find-my-daughter trip. We modded up his AVACS and figured out something absolutely key, which no-one had pinpointed as yet – the exact way that Resurrection Dawn interferes with our nanotech. Asmurti, Isska and your father basically built new, resilient shipboard systems from the ground up in a matter of a couple of weeks, while stuff boiled up at Hazmuri Falls because you’d blown half of Yane’s face off.”