Friendly Fire

by Michelle Levigne

  M'kar pried one eye open. Maybe it was good Tahl took away the magic potion. Otherwise she would be out all night. Better a residual ache and control of her brain and body, than blissful escape and waking up to find whatever nasty surprise Granny deposited in her blankets. Fewmets were fewmets.

  This close, all she could make out was a warm brown shimmer, like moonlight on multi-faceted jewels. Whatever Tahl had put in that shot to take the place of Brea's magic anise potion, M'kar wasn't sure she liked it, playing games with her eyes. She wrapped her hand around the brown shimmer.

  That wasn't drac hide, but something rounded, with facets like a huge lump of jewel, warm, just the right size to fit in her cupped hands. She knew what it was, but something whispered at the edges of her mind, pulling her thoughts away from the present.

  "Ver' f'ny trick." Her mouth felt full and numb at the same time.

  Instinct said get up, get her hand off the brown jewels, and get out of the tent. Get some fresh air. Just move.

  A sound beyond hearing filled her head, wrapped around her heart, and tugged on her soul. She would have resisted, but the distinct impression was of a baby crying, cold and lonely and afraid. Who could resist a sound like that? She liked babies. Especially baby animals. Soft and sleepy and cuddly and furry …

  "Snap ou’ 'f it, st'p'd," she growled. M'kar blinked and shook her head. She knew she was trying to stand up, but her body just settled back down and curled itself around the glowing brown shimmer. So pretty and warm …

  Granny popped into the air just beyond arm's reach. Her eyes spun in green and pink and lavender sparks. Commands exploded into M’kar’s head. She sat up, fumbling to scoop up the egg. Dang it all, a drac egg, right here on her cot and it was about to hatch! The egg split and shattered open in a dozen places, jewel-toned bits of sparkle turning into dust as a damp, wriggling, chirping bundle of brown baby drac uncurled into her waiting hands. Chimes sounded in her head and she clutched the newborn against her breastbone, overwhelmed with the sensation of hunger and panic and glee that enfolded her brain. Granny snagged her shoulder. Fortunately, not the sore one. M'kar somehow got to her feet, cradling the baby drac close, and let Granny lead her out of her tent.

  She blinked and looked around and groaned as the light from the rising sun poured straight into her eyes. Weren't the moons overhead just a few seconds ago? How had she gotten over to the other side of the camp, to the fire pit? Someone had left a pile of cushions by the ashes when they went to bed last night. Why wasn't she in her bed?

  A whistling little snore and sense of warmth tucked up under her chin rocketed her brain into gear. The last few hours snapped from blur to sharp focus. M'kar slowly lowered her hands from the warm, velvet-textured bundle of baby drac tucked into the neck of her shirt. Now that she was more awake (at least, she thought she was awake and not having a really weird dream), she felt the delicacy of the newborn's bones. The feathery ridges along its tail and backbone. The flexible needles of its talons. The fluttering of its heart and whispering tickle of its breath against her skin. She braced herself and leaned forward, sliding the drac out onto the cushion where she had curled up. Then she sat up and looked around the camp. Thank the Fates she slept in shirt and pants during landing parties, rather than her sleeping shorts and shirt, both worn so thin they were little more than semi-sheer rags. Not good to be caught outdoors the next worst thing to naked, while she tried to explain to her crewmates how she had ended up a new mommy to a baby drac.

  Gonna find Granny and wring her neck. No way she's gonna move fast enough or teleport far enough to escape me.

  A smile caught up one corner of her mouth as she looked at the delicate little brown bundle that had shifted in its sleep, seeking the warmth of her thigh.

  Then I'm gonna hug her. Then strangle her again. Then teach her to speak so she can explain to Genys, because I sure can't.

  Definitely, it was good Tahl took away the anise potion. Their captain would need the whole bottle by the time she was done handling this mega-headache problem. And talked Fleet into letting M'kar stay on board the Defender with a miniature dragon riding her shoulder.

  M'kar's head hurt, crammed full of all the things Granny had shoved into it, to teach her how to be a good mother to a newborn drac. With the old matriarch's guidance, they had gotten to know each other, prodded and shoved and slapped and coaxed through a process that was still fuzzy.

  Other information had been forced on her, when she was busy digging her psionic heels in to keep from being drained dry by the voracious appetite of the little brown. Clear in M'kar's head was a cavern full of eggs in different stages of maturity. Granny showed her how all the remaining dracs from all over the planet had flown their eggs to a series of underground caverns. Granny's tribe had sheltered there from the planet's fierce mood swings of weather, down through the ages. Teleporting was fine for mature dracs, and even for adolescents, and newborns could do it if their lives were in danger. Teleporting an egg, up until half a moon before hatching, would kill the baby.

  When the Hivers in their violently clashing colored skinsuits landed all over the planet, seeking out the drac colonies and blasting their nesting spots, the matriarchs and oldest and wisest, and strongest, had gathered up the eggs and went flying for their lives. They had been living in hiding for many days, until they met up with the dracs Granny sent out, responding to M'kar's questions about enemies landing elsewhere on the planet. Those matriarchs and elders and their surviving eggs had come here, when Granny assured them that they were safe. The big two-leg-no-wings had a screaming pillar that sounded like an entire tribe of dracs, and it kept away the killer-stinger-spinners. There, the eggs and the surviving tribes would be safe.

  M'kar shuddered, feeling the despair and desperation and exhaustion of the dracs. She cuddled her little brown and choked back sobs. She didn’t dare make a sound, because it would turn into a full-fledged Nisandrian battle cry and vow of bloody vengeance.

  Not a good way to wake up her crewmates.

  Her stomach chose that moment to pinch and growl. Her mind was still in close link with the drac, and she felt an echo of her hunger stir in it. Now was not the time to find out what a hungry baby drac sounded like, demanding food. She had an impression of piercing squeaks and squeals that could make ears bleed and maybe shatter the viewport on the shuttle. To feed him, she needed her hands free. Would he ride on her shoulder right away, or should she fashion a sling?

  No time like the present to try. M'kar lifted the drac to her shoulder and tried to uncurl him. The head drooped down over her front and the long tail draped down her back. The drac snuffled a little, then claws dug in, taking a foothold.

  "Take it easy on the clothes, okay?" she whispered.

  One luminous eye opened just a few centimeters from her own. She fell into the rainbow sparkles and heard the multiple chords of the drac's mind. Granny's scolding filled her mind and she reacted to those lessons and warnings crammed into her aching head just a few hours ago. M'kar clamped her will down on the baby's mind. He chirped once, raised his head, then grinned in an entirely doggy fashion, that long forked tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

  "You are too cute for your good and my sanity, you know that?" she muttered. M'kar grinned back, although she didn't let her tongue droop out. She had to set a good example for her baby, after all. "All right, Junior, first lesson." Taking a deep breath, she pulled back and focused her will into a single point, as Granny had taught her, then used it like a teacher's wand, to catch the attention of the student, to press the image of what she wanted into the churning consciousness.

  A triumphant chortle filled her throat when the little brown drac sat up and retracted his talons enough to only grip her shirt, not the skin underneath. Then after a pause and mental struggle, followed by a physical one, he wrapped his strong little tickly tail around her neck once. A moment later, he braced himself with one little taloned forepaw entwined in the messy braid wrapped around her head.


  "Oh, very good. You are so smart. What a good boy." M'kar chuckled as she realized that yes, her baby was a boy, even though she still had no certainty how to determine male from female. She just knew. Or maybe it was more accurate that the drac knew what he was. "I don't suppose you know what your name is, do you?"

  That got a curious little chirp, and a nuzzle against the upper curve of her ear, but no real answer.

  "All right. We'll figure it out over breakfast, shall we?"

  Happy little chirps and chatters answered her. Dracs knew what breakfast was.

  Breakfast wasn't just a tactic for keeping her new baby from disturbing the rest of the camp. And just where were the sentinels? Why didn't anyone see her stumble out of her tent at the local equivalent of three in the morning, in a thirty-hour day?

  The answer came when she stepped into the shed and found Decker pouring the last of a pot of caf into a cup. He slipped the lid back on, then put it into the sling that went across his chest. He turned and looked at her and his gaze only flicked over the little drac on her shoulder.

  "L'sa snores, doesn't she?" He gestured at the pot, and when she nodded, he put it back in the slot in the dispenser unit and hit the commands for another pot.

  "Snores?"

  "L'sa. I've heard she used to share a cabin on board, but nobody could put up with her. One of the guys in Engineering had to put extra stabilizers in the bulkhead around her cabin to counteract the tremors. The vibrations disturbed everyone on the decks above and below her, not just on either side."

  The food dispenser unit grumbled for a moment, spitting caf paste into the clear pot, then streaming in boiling water with enough force to mix it up.

  "My hero," she said on a moan, and nearly pulled the pot out before it was done mixing up the brew. M'kar seriously considered drinking straight from the pot, no cup, no cream, no sweetener. She didn't even like caf, except for the energy and heat. Both of which she needed right now. "Honestly, I don't remember hearing anything. The only thing that made the ground shake for me was this little guy."

  "I noticed Granny came back, but none of the others. What's with the mini version?"

  "Meet my new son." M'kar muffled a whimper when the food dispenser unit chimed, signaling the caf was done. She reached past Decker and slopped far too many precious drops as she hurried to the other end of the long table to get a cup. Forget a cup -- how about a bowl, just put her face down into it and slurp it up like a dog?

  "Not funny. Always knew you Nisandrians were weird, but …" Decker's head shaking slowed and his eyes got bigger. "You're not kidding, are you?"

  "Granny bombed me with an egg on the verge of hatching. When you saw me leaving the tent, I was pretty much on autopilot while she rammed drac parenting classes into my skull. Excuse me." She put the pot down, picked up the cup with both hands and poured half the scalding brew down her throat. The baby drac chirped and leaned forward, trying to get a look into the cup when she lowered it again. "None for you, Junior. It'll stunt your growth."

  Decker snorted. "What do the little menaces eat?"

  "Anything and everything. Including things that are bigger than them."

  "Could use them for pest control on the big freighter ships, then."

  She only held back her shriek of "Not on your life," because her head still throbbed. M'kar bared her teeth and staggered over to the chest of ration packets. While some of the combinations provided by the self-proclaimed culinary experts of Fleet Supply Chain were highly questionable, they were nutritious, of good-quality ingredients, and didn't need to be heated. She scooped up three packets and nudged the chest so the lid fell down in place again, then snagged a platter off the serving table on her way back out of the building. Easier to clean up after a messy baby's first meal if she didn't have to do anything but rinse the plate.

  Sh'hari was just stumbling out of the tent M'kar shared with L'sa and two life sciences ensigns when M'kar crossed the camp back to the campfire circle. The other occupants of the tent followed her in various stages of undress as Sh'hari headed for the next tent in line. Then she looked around and saw M'kar coming.

  "Where were you?" She tried to leap over a crate someone had left just sitting out. She caught herself before she went nose-first into the sandy soil, did a somersault, and hit the ground running. "Tahl --" Then she stopped short, staring at the drac sitting on M'kar's shoulder. "Oh. Heck."

  "Hey," Decker called, on the other side of the camp, heading back to his sentry post. "Just thought of something. Didn't you say the eggs come in threes?"

  "Tahl?" M'kar didn't wait for the response from Sh'hari, who shared Tahl's tent. She ran into the tent, clutching the plate and food packets against her chest with one hand, bracing the baby drac with the other.

  "What do I do?" Tahl didn't look afraid to people who didn't know her. She sat up perfectly straight, legs crossed in a complicated position that looked like some mystic on the mountain ready to deliver mind-stretching wisdom to the masses.

  However, M'kar did know her, and the flushed streaks across forehead and cheeks were telltale signs of great stress.

  Her arms were crossed over her chest, cradling a shimmering green egg.

  "Is it normal to hear a baby crying? She's talking to me before she's even out, isn't she?"

  "Uh, yeah, that sounds pretty normal. If there is such a thing anymore." M'kar settled down on the cot facing Tahl's.

  Hanni and Anyette, the other two occupants of the tent, stayed on their cots, scientific equipment in their hands, recording everything. Again, M’kar was grateful she had slept in her day clothes. If this ended up being a training record for future drac adopted parents, she wouldn’t have to worry about her clan finding out and going on a brutal quest to avenge her honor. Or jerks trying to contact her for a date, after seeing her in what amounted to ragged underwear.

  Concentrate, you dimglow!

  The drac chirped agreement. M'kar snorted and reached up to slide him off her shoulder and put him on her lap.

  "You got any advice for your little sister's new mommy?"

  "How bad was it? You did say there's a brain-draning factor in all this?" Tahl said, watching the little brown curl up with his head on his forepaws, staring at the green egg.

  "Not bad, but I had Granny coaching me. Where is she?" M'kar knew it was utterly stupid, but she half-raised off the cot to look for the silver drac. As if she were hiding in the support bars of the tent or sitting among the tangle of blankets on Tahl's cot.

  "Excuse me?" Hanni scooted closer, without leaving her cot. "How can this be happening to Tahl? We all have no psi worth registering, so we're supposed to be safe from drac invasion, right?" She waved her sensor wand at Tahl, managing to convey with her confused frown a multitude of questions. "She just said she's getting things from its mind. She knows it's a girl."

  "What are you going to name her?" Anyette asked.

  Tahl snorted. One side of her mouth quirked up. "Let me meet her in person, first, okay?" She sighed. "Actually … I do have psi. A huge chunk of it."

  "Ankuar don't have psi. They're proud of it," Sh'hari said.

  "They slaughter, on an altar, with a big scary ceremony and a lot of public display, anyone who shows any sign of psionic Talent," Tahl said. "Thank Enlo, I have a lot of rebels in my family. We keep track of all the outlandish, insane theories and teachings from the so-called degenerate races on the other side of the galaxy. Meaning all of you. My older sisters loved fiction. The more the pillars of society railed against them, the more stories they bought from smugglers and begged our uncles to bring home from trips outside the solar system. It helps to have almost all the ambassadors for the entire planet come from your family. I knew exactly what was happening to me when my psi woke up." She stroked the egg with her fingertips, her expresson softening. M'kar could have sworn the light from the egg shimmered in her eyes for a few seconds at a time. "I had enough sound teaching in all those decadent, highly immoral stories to help me trai
n my Talent, and I used it to escape Ankuar."

  "And you forgot you had psi when Genys made it a stipulation that everyone who joined me down here couldn't have it?" M'kar shook her head. Then she saw the other corner of Tahl's mouth quirk up and she nearly collapsed backwards on the cot. "You wanted this to happen?"

  Chapter Fifteen

  "I was curious if it could happen. I certainly didn't think it would happen on the first night. Especially when Granny ignored me just like everyone else."

  "No, she didn't," Sh'hari said. "I remember, when you climbed out of the shuttle, Granny flew around you a few times. Then she ignored everyone else. But she vanished for almost the whole night. Where did she go?"

  "Where's the third egg?" M'kar said, thinking of what Decker had said.

  That question got shoved aside as the green egg let out a chiming sound and the jeweled facets shattered into dust, just like the brown egg had done.

  Granny? Where are you? We need you!

  Her head ached and the little brown crooned and climbed up the front of her shirt. Those newborn talons were worse than baby fingernails. First thing to do was trim them. Or teach baby to fly instead of climb. M'kar ignored the pain the best she could and cuddled her drac as she focused, sending out the call to any drac minds that might hear. Shouts outside the tent warned her, just before a swirl of red and black bombed through the opening of the tent and two adult dracs settled on Tahl's thighs. They each rested a forepaw on her wrist and gazed into her eyes, their own eyes whirling rainbows. A poison green drac lifted its head from the cloud of shell dust settling around it and crooned. A fatuous, un-Ankuar expression softened Tahl's regal face.

  "Turn those things off," she snarled to Anyette and Hanni. This was worse than being caught in her underwear. This was Tahl’s soul being exposed to the universe and recorded.

  Remembering a little more clearly now how it had progressed for her, M'kar got the other occupants of the tent to help. They settled Tahl for a long nap while her brain processed everything downloaded into it. Then she shooed everyone outside. She finally got her drac fed. He gobbled up his first meal, licking the plate clean and then toppling over with a little burp-sigh of contentment. That gave her his name. Maybe Dulit had influenced her, naming his drac Poki, after a child's story character. Her brown was the gluttonous, cheerful, mischievous Barroo from stories told to her in her nursery on Nisandros. Her father had taken the folklore character, a master of mischief, and cleaned up his actions and reputation. Then he turned him into someone who could be loved even as children learned not to follow his example. The Barroo known on Nisandros had an appetite that could be quite inconvenient and destructive, and claws long enough to skewer two grown men at the same time. He also had a brutal temper and a thirst for vengeance. M'kar silently begged Enlo that her Barroo would be the childish, adorable version … maybe ninety percent of the time. Common sense said she would need him to be fiercer than a dragon at some point. Maybe she wouldn't trim those talons after all.