RAWN

by Burrows, Bonnie

  “You personally battled Sabian a few times during the Chimerian conflict, after the day he murdered Phifer,” Joanna recalled from her research.

  “Yes,” replied Rawn. “And each time, he escaped—until that last day, that final battle.”

  “The day you faced him at the Chimerian Warp Nexus.”

  “That was the day,” said Rawn, a faraway look coming over him, as if he was being transported back there as they spoke. “That was the day everything could have fallen: Earth, the Commonwealth, every planet that we held and all our allies in the quadrant. The Chimerians were about to use their warp nexus, an array of hundreds of artificial wormholes drawing all the power of a blue-white star.

  Through that nexus, they could have opened wormholes in coordinates all over known space and struck at us everywhere at once. That nexus had to be shut down, no matter what it took to do it. The Knights and the Corps both attacked; it was one of the few times the Dragon Corps was

  diverted from defending our own planet. It was a two-pronged attack. The main force was to strike at the power station drawing energy from the star, which was the stronghold of the High Chimerian himself. The other force was to attack the control station, where Sabian would deploy the Chimerian forces through the wormholes. I personally led the assault on Sabian.

  “It was a terrible battle. Ships and crews on both sides were destroyed. Space was filled with debris and bodies. And I battled my way through it all, determined that this time—this most important time—Sabian would not escape me. This time, nothing would save him from me. We both knew we were facing our last stand. The control station was under attack by our forces from all sides and from inside. We were tearing it asunder. And on the bridge platform, I faced Sabian once again.

  We battled more fiercely than ever before. I met every shape that he took, every form that he tried to use to overwhelm me. By fire and blade, I finally struck him down. But it seemed to be too late. In spite of all the damage we had done, artificial wormholes were forming and the Chimerian vessels were set to swarm out all across the quadrant and sweep over every world we knew.

  There was only one thing to be done. I took my own ship into the central wormhole through which the power of the entire nexus flowed. And I used the Odysseum power source of my own engine core to collapse it. The feedback imploded the entire nexus and destroyed the technology drawing on the star.

  “At the end of the battle, the High Chimerian and Sewall Sabian were dead, their attack on the quadrant permanently crippled, the Chimerians either randomly scattered across space or destroyed, or their ships blown to nothingness.”

  Soberly, solemnly, Joanna added, “And you were…gone.”

  “I was gone,” Rawn said, shutting his eyes against the memory. “I thought I’d done

  exactly what I set out to do, given my life to stop the Chimerians once and for all. I was

  prepared to die, knowing it was in the best possible cause. I thought of Dr. Phifer and hoped he’d have been proud of me. The whole universe around me first went stark white, then blacker than space. And then, suddenly, somehow, I was still alive—but lost.”

  “You ended up like some of the Chimerians, thrown to a random part of the galaxy, a

  remote part of the Perseus Arm of the galaxy.”

  “And I was fortunate not to have been thrown farther than that,” said Rawn. “But it was far enough that, with the depleted power of my Odysseum engine core, it was a longer journey home than anyone had ever had to take through space alone. I was cut off with limited

  provisions, unable to call for help over that distance.

  There was nothing for me but to start for home and look everywhere I went along the way for fuel, food, and supplies—and be on the lookout for unknown aliens who might consider me a trespasser in their space. I was in a danger as great as the one I’d helped to defeat, and I knew it would be years before I’d see the end of it.”

  Almost hesitantly, Joanna mentioned, “But…it must have been overwhelming. It must have been…terrifying.”

  Rawn went silent at that. He looked down at his emptied breakfast plate, but actually

  focused on nothing. Joanna could practically feel his mind turning in on itself. She almost

  regretted bringing it up.

  “I mean…,” she went on, carefully. “As we were saying before, a Knight has his training and is expected not to back down from any situation. But still, to be so far from home, so

  suddenly and completely on your own… Anyone would be terrified. It’s natural.”

  He faced her again with the most haunted look she had ever seen in his dark eyes. It was all that Joanna could do to make herself not want to go to the other side of the table, to put her arms around him, to embrace away all the memories that must have arisen in him now. How could he have borne up under it? How could she bear to see him remember it now?

  In a voice firm but quiet, Rawn answered, “You’re right. It is natural to be frightened, terrified, in such a situation. We Knights act fearlessly as we are trained to do. We are trained to put fear aside or to fold it up and put it in a box inside us. We are trained that to ignore fear is unwise; fear is a part of the nature of all things that have minds and hearts.

  We act fearlessly, but we do know fear. We simply learn not to let it govern us. We learn to act through it. That is the way that any foe is faced and conquered. But the foe that I faced then, after disappearing through the nexus, was different than any other I had ever faced; different than any adversary that any other Knight has ever known.

  My enemy that time, and for all those years, was space itself. Distance, vastness, isolation—being totally alone. It was an enormous foe, and a terrifying one, but that was the way that I made myself see it: as an enemy to be conquered.”

  Still sympathetic but now fascinated, Joanna leaned forward, intent on hearing more. “You must have had something, though, to take your mind off what you were facing. To have to deal with that constantly, all that time, for all those years, would make anyone insane.”

  “True. My ship’s memory did have a store of literature, art, music, things that would be used to fill the lull times on a long-term solitary mission, and I used them. There are so many cultural things that I have completely committed to memory now, from having read and listened to them over and over; they are like a part of me.

  And where I could, I also recorded transmissions that had leaked out into space from other planets as I passed them. I’ve been exposed to the cultures of many other worlds in my travels.”

  “And you actually visited some of those planets, didn’t you?”

  “Some of them, yes—when I judged it was safe both for me and the inhabitants. My time alone was not completely lonely. I did a good deal of exploring. My ship’s logs contain a full record of the places that I went, the beings that I met—and sometimes battled or fled from. The Spires and the cultural and scientific bodies of the Fleet and the Commonwealth are taking a huge interest in them, I’m sure.”

  Totally captivated now, Joanna said, “Everyone else will be too. You’ve been to places no one else ever has, seen things no one else has ever seen—all on your own. Really, all the time you were away, you went from being a Knight to being an explorer.”

  “True. But it was not easy in any way. There was always one danger that I could never flee: the danger of gene blight so far from home, with no one knowledgeable in Lacertan medicine to help me. The breakdown of my own body could have ended my voyage, and I’d have been lost forever.”

  “Mentor Oda talked to me about that, the things you must have had to do to keep yourself alive. I can’t even imagine…” She did not add, I can’t even imagine that body breaking down. But look at you. You’re magnificent. To see you now, with that body—that incredible body—no one would even know what you’ve been through.

  “I did what I must,” said Rawn. “As any Knight—or any man or woman—must do. In matters of life and death, there is no other ch
oice. It’s live or die, and you do what you must.”

  Joanna nodded, understanding. “Yes…” After a beat, she asked, “Wasn’t there ever a time when you were tempted to stay on one of those planets, try to create a new life for yourself?”

  Rawn went silent again, retreating back into deep thought, obviously remembering things—things that perhaps he was not yet prepared to share. Perhaps even things he was not ready to share with present company. He returned with, “There were times, yes. There were places that made me want to stay. Places and…people. There were…temptations.”

  At this, he did not meet her eyes. There were memories behind those eyes, behind that look, that Joanna could tell were for Rawn alone—at least for the time being. Some of those memories, she guessed, must have been of women—females of species unknown to any world in Commonwealth space. Distant, alien, exotic females, who might show a man or dragon things that Joanna, or any woman of Earth, could never guess.

  Where had he been, this Rawn Ullery, and with whom had he been there? With what alien women on unknown worlds had he lain, and what things had he known and shared in their beds? And what was it that now uncurled and stung inside Joanna at the thought of it? Envy? Jealousy? She had no reason, no right to feel any such thing. And yet…

  Finally, he said, “I could never stay on any of those worlds. For reasons of my own life, I could not stay. And had I tried, not only would I have eventually faced death from gene blight, but I would have been forever the stranger, the alien; always out of place, never truly, completely at home. In time, I might have made a home somewhere out there, but it would never have taken the place of the home that I left.

  In the end, it was always down to knowing where I belonged, and it was still a long journey away. So, in the end, I always returned to the journey, leaving behind friendships briefly made, and leaving behind…companions. There were many sad partings. Sad, but inevitable.”

  “Still,” said Joanna, “it must have been hard, going back to space by yourself time after time, having to leave people behind. You needed your home, true. But I know a Knight has…other, different needs.” She tried to put that as delicately as she could, but the meaning still came through.

  Rawn agreed, “We Lacertans are a very physical people. That is most true of the Knights and the Corps, and most especially true of the males. I don’t exaggerate or boast; this is the way we are. You may have heard it said that we dragon males are the most powerful in two places: in battle and in bed.”

  Thinking back to her friend’s remark about Lacertan Knights and “things that began with the letter F,” Joanna discreetly replied, “That’s not exactly the way I heard it.”

  He arched his eyebrows slightly. “No? However you heard it, it’s no boast. It’s true. We are intense, and we never have enough. Does it disturb you that I’m telling you this?”

  Since she was the one who mentioned it, all that Joanna could say in response was, “As you said, everyone knows all about your…intensity. And as a mediate, I’ve heard things much more disturbing than that. The other things you’ve been talking about, for instance.”

  “Yes. I have a long recovery to look forward to: recovering from the time I’ve been away, and putting my life back together after so very long; starting to do again the things that I did before that last battle with the Chimerians. It’s a time when I’ll have to learn to be again who I once was before I was lost.”

  “I’m sure you’re still everything you were before you gave up so much. You’re still the man and the dragon you’ve always been.”

  Thoughtfully, Rawn replied, “But the long time away, the long time alone with only myself to rely upon…it may have affected me in ways I cannot appreciate yet. As a Knight, I’m taught to be strong and resilient. But to have to be so strong and so resilient by oneself for so long…it may have taken a greater toll on me than I can guess, changed me in ways I do not yet know.”

  Joanna said, “I’m sure there’ll be therapy for you. There’ll be counseling; you’ll be

  assigned someone you can talk to about everything you’ve been through.”

  “Yes,” said Rawn, “I will have counseling, perhaps for a long time to come. The

  experiences I’ve had, the isolation, the physical duress, I will have to speak about them with someone on a professional basis. It will be a condition of my full readmittance to the

  Knighthood. But I will need more than treatment and more than therapy to return completely to myself. There will be…other needs to which I’ll have to give proper attention.”

  Taking the meaning of that, Joanna said, “I know you’ll have no trouble at all with

  everything you need. There’s so much admiration for you out there, all over space. The whole quadrant will be waiting to open itself up to you.”

  With a subtle smile, Rawn replied, “Things ‘opening up to me’ sounds very appealing.”

  “They will,” she said. “Absolutely.”

  “I’m grateful to know it,” said Rawn. “I’m grateful just to be home where, as you say, so much is waiting for me. The thought of home waiting for me is how I survived all these years. Do you know, in the time since I arrived at the spacedock, I haven’t even flown in the sky of my world yet? For so long, I’ve missed the feeling of the air of Lacerta rushing over my scales and under my wings. Just now, all I want to do is fly. Miss Way, have you ever flown with a dragon?”

  The question startled her a bit. “It’s Joanna, please. And no, I never have.”

  He smiled a bit more broadly, temptingly. “Can I offer you the experience? Would you like to share with me my first flight back in my home sky?”

  Now, she was really taken aback, completely unprepared for any of this. “Oh, I don’t know…”

  “You’re not afraid…?”

  “No, of course it isn’t that.” Or was it? Joanna had never flown outside of an aircraft or spaceship. It was something she had always meant to try, of course; wing gliding was a popular human pastime, especially aboard space habitats. But to try it now? With him? Really?

  With a gentle insistence, Rawn said, “After what we’ve been through together, and

  knowing that I am a Knight, you know that you can trust me.”

  Blinking, still not quite believing the proposition, Joanna said, “Yes, I know I can trust you…”

  “If I kept you safe and did not drop you at the spacedock, I’ll surely not let you fall here, in the sky of my home. And it will be good for your story. Fly with me, Joanna. Let me take you up over the Spires, over my world. Share my homecoming flight with me.”

  Still a bit hesitant and not knowing why—or perhaps knowing exactly why—Joanna asked, “You’re sure you don’t want this flight to be just for you?”

  Confidently, Rawn replied, “It will mean even more to share it with the woman that I rescued. Please.”

  Joanna considered and found no good reason to turn him down. “It would be good for my story,” she realized. “All right, Sir Rawn, I accept.”

  Raising a finger in gentle admonition, he said, “Please…just Rawn.”

  “All right. I accept…Rawn.” And she felt the warmth of a smile come over her face. They stood up from the table together, and Rawn said, “We may take off now.”

  “Okay,” she said, “first, let me switch to POV.” She said to the device floating at her shoulder, “Epaulette, switch recording interface to eye lenses.”

  “Transferring,” said the little brooch-like device, and reattached itself to her vest. At the same time, Rawn noticed a pair of tiny flashes in Joanna’s eyes, the sign of the AI connecting itself to the micro-cameras in her contact lenses. This way, the AI would capture her flight with the dragon man directly through her eyes.

  “Now I’m ready,” Joanna said.

  The mediate and the Knight smiled at one another, and Rawn gestured to the balcony.

  _______________

  Once again, Joanna knew the mix of sensations of being borne alof
t in the arms of the transformed dragon Knight, but under very different and far less dire circumstances. There was no spacedock crumbling around her and jagged, ragged debris raining down everywhere she looked; no upheavals and bursts of fire. It was not a matter of life and death. If anything, it felt more like simply a matter of life.

  With nothing around her but Rawn’s massively muscled, scaly dragon arms, Joanna found this flight a completely different experience from her last one. When he first took off with her, there had been the unsettling and queasy feeling of the ground dropping away and her

  stomach wanting to stay with it, but that quickly passed with the sound of the mighty beats of his wings, the whoosh of air, and the blur of buildings and trees before her eyes as they quickly gained altitude.

  Then, everything was quiet. Well, not exactly quiet, but the odd sort of silence of being high over the ground and having her ears filled with the open air. Joanna was reminded of how