by Leslie Chase
Not without Number Five here, she decided. A stupid, damaged, almost useless machine it might be, but it represented a pretty big investment on the part of her family. She wasn't going to leave it out here to freeze over.
Plugging her suit into the robot's computer brain, she took direct control over the systems and sighed with relief as the engine started. The robot's own power source would last for months without recharging — as long as she could draw power from it, she'd be fine. Assuming it didn't decide to drive into a crevasse she couldn't see, anyway.
Clambering up onto the robot's bulky body, Gillian set it moving back towards the farm. The vibrations of the motor and the ice crunching under the treads echoed through her helmet, and there was nowhere designed for a human to sit. The handholds she clung to were meant for someone working on the machine, not riding it.
Still, it was faster than walking. Fast was good. Gillian looked around — the cable linking her suit to the robot's brain was too short for her to clamber to the front of the robot, so she couldn't look ahead. Instead, she looked south, in the vague direction of the nearest other settlement. Somewhere out there, Fuller Station waited, the first stepping stone back to civilization.
Something caught her eye, movement crossing her field of vision, and she frowned. Too small and fast to be a skyship, but it was definitely something. She was ninety percent sure it was something, anyway. A shooting star? Some kind of spaceship?
She focused her attention on the dark sky, but whatever she'd seen wasn't visible now. Maybe I imagined it?
As she was about to give up, something flashed across the blackness. A bright line of light in the distance, cutting through space.
What the hell is that? Bringing up her binoculars, she focused quickly and gasped at what she saw.
Flying towards her were dragons. Two of them, each flying north towards her and her farm. As she watched, the lead dragon twisted aside, dodging a blast of flame that slashed through the space he'd just been in. The dragon that had attacked him swooped closer.
Gillian's heart pounded as she watched the chase, wondering what was happening. Why were they fighting, and if they had to fight, why do it over her family's land?
2
Zardan
The bar was called the Last Stop, which had to be some kind of human joke. Everyone at Fuller Station was passing through to somewhere else. It was cold, poorly maintained, and miserable — no one lived there because they wanted to. For Zardan, though, the bar's name might be truer than for most. The dragon shifter warrior only had one more destination ahead of him.
Zardan stared out of the window, looking north. The Martian horizon was close, and he couldn't actually see the icecap's glaciers, but he knew they were there, just out of sight. His next flight would get him there, take him home.
It was a miserable thought, but he'd come this far already. He wasn't about to change his mind at this point.
"What'll you have?" the bartender broke into his thoughts, almost startling him. Most humans wouldn't interrupt a dragon shifter that casually, and Zardan had expected some more time with his thoughts. The human paled and took a step back as Zardan's glare landed on him, leaving a fresh flash of guilt in the dragon's mind.
It's not his fault, Zardan told himself, restraining his automatic response with difficulty and forcing a smile. It didn't seem to make things any better. The young human flinched away from Zardan as he showed his teeth, so he gave up on the attempt.
"Beer," he said, hoping that answering the question would make the human less frightened. If nothing else, it gave him the opportunity to go away, and that was the best that Zardan could do for him. The kid looked as though he was torn between taking the offered escape route and asking what kind of beer. Fortunately, his urge to leave won out and he hurried off.
As though I'd know one human drink from another, Zardan thought sourly. 'Beer' was as close as he had to a preference, or at least one that could be found on Mars. He remembered enjoying mead when he'd last visited Earth, but that had been more than a thousand years earlier. As far as he knew the humans hadn't brought any with them to Mars.
Looking around the bar while the human fetched his drink, Zardan grimaced. The rest of the scattered clientele seemed just as lost in their own thoughts as he was, at least. He wasn't used to being this close to people, and it wasn't comfortable. A few of the humans were staring, but none looked like they'd have the courage to bother him. Good. At least I'll have some privacy while I get ready.
The strangest thing was that he wasn't the only shifter here. At the back of the room two dragon shifters sat at a table, talking quietly with a human in a suit. They might have been trying to be discrete, but that wasn't really possible here. Not when the smallest of them would tower over any human, and their wings added even more to their height.
Zardan considered joining them, finding out what they were doing so far from the Imperial regions of Mars. Not that they needed any reason, of course — all of Mars belonged to the Dragon Empire. Still, most of them stuck closer to the Imperial capital. Even those who'd turned pirate tended to be closer to major trade routes, not out at a backwater place like this.
And that was one of the good things about being out here, Zardan thought, picking up his beer and dropping some money on the bar. Turning away from the other dragons he took a seat at the window, his back to the room. Let them approach him if they wanted, he didn't need to go and look for more of a connection to the world he'd lost.
A glance back told him that he'd not gone unnoticed. One of the shifters looked up from his drink and glowered in Zardan's direction. Zardan tried to place his face — all the dragons on Mars knew each other, after all. Every one of them had been in the Dragon Guard assigned to protect Prince Verikan during his conquest of Earth.
Of course, a lot had changed since then. The fall of the Dragon Empire, the death of Mars, and the thousand-year Great Sleep in hibernation before they'd been revived. But they were still the same dragons he'd served with, back when they'd arrived in the solar system.
Karaos. He managed to put a name to the face and was instantly glad that he hadn't gone over to speak to the dragons. He'd never known Karaos well and that wasn't just chance. In the Dragon Guard, Karaos had a reputation as a cruel opportunist. A noble who'd risen through the ranks by treachery and connections rather than merit. His position as the liaison to the navy had given him a chance to make his mark as a smuggler rather than a warrior.
Not that he wasn't dangerous in a fight. Part of Karaos's reputation came from the duels he'd fought and won, by fair means or foul. And the look in his eye was this close to a challenge. Zardan narrowed his eyes. He didn't want a fight and he had no idea why Karaos might, but he wasn't going to back down.
After a moment Karaos broke off the staring contest with a wary nod. Zardan kept his gaze on the other dragon until he turned back to his table. That was odd. What have I done to piss him off?
With a shrug, Zardan turned away. It didn't matter: he wouldn't be in Fuller Station long enough for it to make a difference after all. Let that be one more unsolved mystery he left behind.
Turning his eyes north, he sipped his beer and grimaced. Perhaps I should learn the names of some human beers, it would let me never try this one again. Somewhere out there were the lands which had belonged to his family, the small estate his aunt had kept on Mars when it was the furthest outpost of a galaxy-spanning empire. Gone now, buried under the miles of ice that had formed when the planet's atmosphere died.
But it belonged to him, now, at least as much as anything did. It gave him a direction to head in his wanderings, something to look forward to. Better that than looking back at the dead he'd left behind him.
Finishing his drink with a snarl, he stood and stalked out. This was just putting off the end of his journey, and it wasn't going to get any easier. Time to get this done.
The blinding white of the planet's northern ice cap extended into the distance under Zardan
as he flew, his wings spread wide. Gliding like this took little energy and he could soar for as long as he could hold his breath in the thin air. Hours where he didn't need to speak to anyone, to think about anyone else. Where he could just be alone with his thoughts.
They weren't happy thoughts.
A thousand years of sleep separated him from the world he knew, from the family he loved. Everything was long gone to dust and ruin, and no one even knew why. All that they knew about the fall was that ships had started bombarding Mars without warning. The Dragon Guard and their charge, the Imperial Prince Verikan, had only survived by going into suspended animation.
In the thousand years since then, no one had come looking for them. No one had investigated the loss of Mars, no one had come to find the prince. They had to assume that they were on their own now, that Mars was all of the Empire that survived. That Verikan was now the Emperor, as unprepared for that role as he was.
Worst of all, they couldn't even find out what had happened. Not without a starship, and Mars had never had a shipyard capable of building one of those. Whatever fate befell the Empire and Zardan's family, it was a mystery and looked like it would remain that way.
My family's lands would have been somewhere around here, he thought as he circled. It was hard to be precise — the last time he'd been here, all those centuries ago, an atmosphere shield had protected the planet. There had been landmarks and navigation satellites had hung above to guide him. Now, his implanted computers had nothing to connect to and the air had almost all escaped. The ice cap below was so cold that what remained of the atmosphere froze to it during the winter, and the glaciers had long since covered whatever might remain of his estate.
Zardan's mind shied away from the question of what had happened to the people there. Some things he wasn't ready to think about.
Far below him, something stood out against the ice. Looking more closely he saw a green shape against the white expanse. Some kind of human machine, standing on the lands that were once his.
Anger flared in his heart. Even the grave of his family was being disturbed by the apes from Earth, the primitives who had clawed their way into space while the dragons slept.
Snarling, he banked in that direction. Zardan didn't know what he'd do about it, but he wasn't going to let it be. He couldn't.
As he swooped lower to get a better look, he realized that he wasn't alone in the sky. Lost in thoughts of the past, he hadn't noticed the two dragons following him. The same shifters he'd seen in Fuller Station? Zardan couldn't be sure, in their dragon forms he couldn't identify them, but it didn't seem likely that there was another pair of dragons this far north.
Seeing them up here was more than strange. They were far from any air source he knew of out here, and while a dragon could hold his breath for hours at a time, there wasn't much reason for them to linger out here. Even he was only here because of his family's estate — and his desire to be alone.
Whatever they want, I'm not interested, he thought, turning away and hoping that they'd take the hint. If they wanted to talk, they had the wrong dragon.
But a quick glance told him that they were following anyway. They soared higher as they approached, an aggressive move that threatened to trap him between them and the ice.
Turning, he snarled at them, letting his dragon's flame show in a burst. It was an unmistakable way of saying that he wasn't interested in conversation, and the only polite response would be for them to turn away. And one of them did, turning away northward and swooping down closer toward the ground. The other stayed high, watching Zardan and flying towards him. It seemed they wanted to run him off. As though this was their territory. Zardan's rage burned at that; these lands were his, not theirs to claim.
But he'd need to fight them for it if he wanted to keep his family's lands. Was that worth the risk of spilling dragon blood? When his estate lay under a thick layer of ice, and only a few hundred dragons survived on Mars, it was hard to justify taking any chances over this dispute.
I should just let it go, he tried to tell himself. It's not as though I care about this land, not really. It belonged to my family a thousand years ago, and that's not worth killing dragons over.
The fire in his heart wasn't listening to reason, though. This was his territory and his legacy. It was all he had left, and there was no way he was going to give it up to these interlopers.
He banked around, following the dragon who'd turned away. To his surprise he saw that another dragon had joined it, and the two of them were sweeping across the landscape in a hunting formation. Where did that one come from? Zardan asked himself, and what are they hunting?
There was no prey to be found here. Nothing moved, except for the human machine, and that would be poor sport at best. Its green standing out against the blinding white, easy prey for the two dragons bearing down on it. This time, though, Zardan looked closer, and what he saw woke him from his funk.
The machine wasn't alone. Riding on its back was a human, wrapped in one of their ridiculously bulky space suits. A human female, he could see that much from her shape. She seemed to be oblivious to the dragons swooping towards her. At least, she was making no move to run.
They must have seen the human too, but still they approached low, like hunters planning a kill. Zardan's fury grew — no one was going to commit murder on these, his family's lands. There'd been too much death here already.
His blood singing with the fire of combat, Zardan raced towards the dragons, wings beating furiously. It crossed his mind that he didn't even know who he was fighting, not for certain. One of them was probably Karaos, but the other two he couldn't even guess at. Am I about to kill dragons I can't even name to save a human?
He snorted flame, rising to meet the one who'd stayed back to watch him. Not my problem. If they didn't want this fight, they shouldn't be hunting on my land.
And if they did want a fight, he wasn't going to deny them. Outnumbered he might be, and tired from his long flight, but the rush of battle was in his veins and he almost smiled as he rose to meet the one watching him.
Their first pass was fast, a brutal assessment of each other's skills. Claws scraped over dragonscale as the attacker tore at Zardan's side, and his teeth snapped at a wing only to be blocked by the foreleg of his enemy. Then they were past each other. Zardan tasted his enemy's blood and the scratches along his side burned, but neither had inflicted a dangerous injury.
His enemy snarled and turned, expecting another pass, but Zardan didn't have time for that. Not if he wanted to save the human. With a powerful beat of his wings he chased the hunters, sweeping down from the sky towards them.
The fact that he didn't care if the human saw him gave him an advantage, but it was a small one, and they already had a lead on him. By the time he approached them, they were almost on their prey. Zardan put on a last burst of speed.
The human had seen him, at least, and so had some warning. But she didn't seem to know what to do, standing on her slow-moving machine and staring in his direction. The dark glass of the suit's helmet kept him from seeing her expression, and he could only hope that she overcame her shock soon enough to leap to safety. Standing where she was, she was an easy target for her hunters.
At least they hadn't seen Zardan yet. The sensible move, he knew, would have been to swoop onto the back of the second hunter — the leader might not notice that. But that would have abandoned the human female to her fate, and Zardan wasn't willing to do that. Instead, with a final effort, he pulled forward to dive onto the leader.
The impact shook them both, and the dragon twisted under Zardan's claws. Together, they crashed into the ice, hitting and sliding over the slippery surface as they tore at each other in a sudden spasm of violence. This wasn't a quick exchange but a deadly duel, each trying to get purchase on the other's throat as they fought.
Zardan grinned, feeling alive for the first time in months. For a moment he even thought he might win, and if it had been a one on one fight
he would have. But the other two dragons swooped down to join the fight, crashing into him and carrying him off his prey. Outnumbered three to one he knew he didn't stand a chance. Claws dug into the membrane of his wings and ripped, sending a wave of agony through him before he could twist free.
At least I'll be with my family soon, he thought as a burst of flames washed over his flank. The pain was incredible, but that didn't stop him from digging his claws into the face of the dragon burning him and tearing. The look of shock and horror on his enemy's face was something that he could treasure as the darkness crept into his vision.
There wasn't much point in keeping his breath back now, so he let the fires in his heart free, breathing out the last of his air as a superhot plasma that could cut through steel. It struck his enemies, scattering them back, and they took to the skies to get away from him. He didn't blame them — a dragon warrior who didn't care if he lived or died was a deadly foe, even outnumbered.
He tried to launch himself after them, to chase them off. But his wings weren't cooperating, and instead of taking to the air he crashed down into the ice again with a thump. None of his enemies seemed to want to come back and face him, though. They were content to let him die of his wounds rather than face his death-rage.
Good. At least my end had some meaning, Zardan thought as he slumped down onto the cold, hard ice. His eyes flickered shut, and when he opened them again he saw the human female approaching across the ice warily. With a weak wave of his wing, he tried to tell her to go, to get as far away as possible in case the hunters returned. But she paid him no heed, getting closer and peering down into his eye.
This close, he could see through the darkened glass and make out her face. Wide eyes stared at him with wonder and compassion, and Zardan felt a wave of peace wash over him as he faded into the dark. At least his last sight would be of something beautiful.