The Falken Chronicles

by Piers Platt

  Fine. Try holding on now.

  Falken aimed the truck at another tall rock column, gauging the angle. The dragon opened its jaws, preparing to strike, but they were already beside the formation, and Falken scraped the side of the truck along the sheer face of the rock, swiping the dragon off in one fell swoop.

  “Almost there!” he called out. Hang on, guys.

  Suddenly, Falken felt a rush of wind and heard a thunderous flapping of wings and a cry of pain from Raynard. The first dragon had attacked them again, this time from a near-vertical dive at full speed. It crashed down into the middle row of seats and impaled Raynard’s right leg, pinning it to the seat with its hind claws. The impact slammed the truck downward, and Falken heard the shriek of metal on rock as the truck bottomed out on the ground. Over his shoulder, Falken could see the dragon’s head swivel, its jaws bloody from eating proxy meat. He ducked as the beast’s tail whipped around and slammed into Shep’s head, knocking him unconscious.

  The dragon focused on Kuda next, who yelled in alarm and held the last set of proxy legs over himself, like a shield. The dragon bit down, shaking its head to tear off a chunk of meat from the proxy’s thigh.

  “Falken!” Vina screamed.

  “I know!” In the distance, Falken spotted the research center’s vehicle bay, a bunker-like building protruding from the rocky base of the mountain. The bay’s armored outer door was swinging slowly upwards, revealing several trucks parked inside next to an airlock.

  The dragon bit down again, tearing the rest of the proxy legs out of Kuda’s hands. Vina was beating at the dragon’s belly with Falken’s noise cancellation staff, while Ed cowered in fear, holding both arms over his head protectively. The dragon ignored them both, tilting its head up to swallow what remained of the proxy. Falken aimed for the vehicle bay, pressing down on the accelerator, but it was already floored. Then the truck slowed down.

  What the …?

  On the display screen, Falken saw a warning symbol appear.

  >>>Batteries depleted. Leaks detected. Would you like me to find an authorized service center?

  Falken swore as the truck slowed, then jerked to a halt. He reached into the vehicle’s glove compartment and yanked out the emergency kit, fumbling until he found a flare. Pulling the cap off, he slammed the flare against the dashboard and it hissed to life, bright red flame sputtering from one end. Falken unbuckled his seat belt, clambering up onto the seat behind the dragon. Above him, the dragon was rearing back, preparing to deal Kuda a killing blow. Falken snarled and grabbed the beast’s wing, pulling himself upward and jamming the fiery flare into one of the open sensory glands along the dragon’s neck. It screamed in pain and anger, and threw Falken off – he landed on his back on the hood of the truck. The dragon beat its wings, roaring in anguish, and then lifted off, shaking itself in a vain attempt to get rid of the flare. It fell to the ground a dozen paces away, and lay there hissing, biting at its own neck.

  “The truck’s dead,” Falken said, pushing himself off the hood and onto the ground. “Everybody out, let’s go!”

  “Shep’s hurt!” Kuda said, pulling his mask off and slipping it over his brother’s unconscious head.

  “You gotta carry him,” Falken said, pulling open the door next to Raynard. The photojournalist’s leg was bleeding heavily – he held it between shaking hands, and Falken could see multiple deep puncture wounds, each several inches across.

  “Hurts bad,” Raynard said. “I don’t think I can walk.”

  “I got you,” Falken said. “Ed, Vina – you help Greban.”

  “Take my mask,” Greban said, handing it to Raynard. “I’ll share with Ed.”

  Kuda jumped off the truck and pulled his brother out, stopping to take a deep breath from the oxygen mask, before putting it back over his brother’s head. Then he grabbed Shep under the arms and began dragging him toward the bunker. Falken unbuckled Raynard and then bent over, putting the other man’s torso across his shoulders, before lifting him in a fireman’s carry, an arm in one hand, and his injured leg in the other. On the far side of the truck, he saw the dragon was still writhing in pain, distracted by the embedded flare.

  He’s gonna be pissed when he gets that thing out.

  “Ed, come on!” Vina shouted, helping Greban down out of the truck. They hobbled a few paces, Vina supporting Greban under one shoulder, while Greban used the noise cancellation staff as a cane in his other hand.

  The older man still lay huddled in his seat, sobbing, his arms held up over his head.

  “Ed, move!” Falken yelled, grunting under Raynard’s weight. “Vina needs your help.”

  Ed seemed to recover then; he sat up, wide-eyed, and surveyed the scene. His eyes seemed to focus when he caught sight of the bunker ahead of them. He tumbled out of the truck and ran toward Vina and Greban, but instead of stopping, he brushed right past them, sprinting toward the airlock.

  “Ed!” Vina yelled.

  “Son of a bitch!” Falken swore.

  He took a deep breath, but the air in his mask felt suddenly thin. Falken continued forward and took another breath, but the taste in the mask had changed, and he felt a tickle in the back of his throat.

  Fucking out of air now, too?!

  He tore the mask off, letting it drop to the ground. Ed had already disappeared inside the bunker – Falken could see him beating on the airlock’s inner door. Kuda had stopped for another breath of air; he and Shep were just inside the vehicle bay, but still twenty or thirty feet from the airlock. Vina stopped to hold her air mask to Greban’s face for a moment, letting him breathe. Falken held his own breath and hurried on, catching up to Vina and Greban.

  “Put me down, I can crawl,” Raynard groaned, from over Falken’s shoulder.

  Falken shook his head silently.

  The hell you can. Falken looked at the airlock. Not much farther. You can make it.

  Then, with an earth-trembling thump, another dragon landed directly between the four of them and the bunker. It shook itself, then furled its wings and paced toward them, jaws wide. Falken heard a snort, and turned to look behind them – the injured dragon had rid himself of the flare, and was stalking toward them from the truck. Falken’s lungs had begun to burn, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

  He turned back to face the first dragon, and saw Greban take his arm away from Vina’s shoulder, straightening up. He turned to the other three and smiled, quickly, then reached down to touch the noise cancellation staff in his hands.

  “Go!” he yelled, and Falken saw him switch the staff into “lure” mode, the device’s speakers now broadcasting the sounds of an injured faun. At once, both dragons’ heads snapped toward Greban, who braced himself, and then half-stumbled, half-ran a dozen yards away from the other three, gasping at the pain in his sprained ankle.

  The dragons pounced nearly simultaneously. In a daze, Falken heard Vina scream. He pushed her toward the airlock, gasping ineffectually for air. They ran, Falken stumbling once and nearly falling, but she pulled him up again, and he steadied Raynard across his shoulders. His vision began to blur, the edges of his sight darkening. And then they were inside the vehicle bay, and, after what seemed an eternity of steps, inside the airlock, too. Falken collapsed to the floor, his chest bursting. The last thing he saw was one of the dragons, flying low through the vehicle bay directly toward the airlock, as the outer hatch began to slide closed.

  Chapter 20

  “Falken!”

  Falken gasped, feeling cool, fresh air fill his lungs. Vina knelt over him, shaking him urgently. In the background, he heard a dull thudding sound – he realized it was one of the dragons, trying ineffectually to break down the airlock door.

  Falken sat up, holding his head. He saw Brondi and Luthena, the two research center scientists, lifting Raynard up between them. The photojournalist moaned in pain as they jostled him, and then managed to lay him on a medical gurney. Beyond, inside the research center’s main hallway, Falken could see Kuda c
atching his breath, leaning against the carved stone wall, his unconscious brother at his feet. Ed stood off to one side, his oxygen mask held in one hand.

  “You bastard!” Falken pushed himself off the tiled floor and strode over to Ed. The older man backed away, but Falken grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him close.

  “Greban’s dead because of you,” Falken growled.

  Ed shook his head. “I … I didn’t do anything.”

  “You ran instead of helping,” Falken said. “You killed him, sure as pulling a trigger. And I’m going to see that you go to jail for it, you selfish asshole.”

  Ed snorted. “I did what any reasonable person would do. And my lawyers will have no trouble proving it.”

  Falken snarled and wrapped his fingers around Ed’s throat, lifting him off the floor. “There was a time when I would have dumped your ass right back outside,” Falken said.

  “Falken!” Brondi called, concern creasing his face.

  But Falken ignored the researcher and tightened his grip. “Or killed you myself.” He saw Ed’s eyes go wide, his mouth agape. “You’re lucky I’m not that man anymore.”

  He let go, and Ed fell to the floor in a heap. Falken turned away. He crossed the hallway and knelt next to Shep.

  “He’s still breathing,” Kuda said. “He moaned a second ago. I think he’s coming to.”

  Falken pushed open one of Shep’s eyes. “Concussion,” he said.

  “Will he be okay?” Kuda asked.

  “Has he had any head injuries in the past?” Falken asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Kuda said.

  “Then he should be okay. Just make him comfortable.”

  Brondi and Luthena passed by, pushing the gurney between them, with Vina in tow.

  “Heading for the infirmary,” Luthena told Falken.

  “I’ll come,” Falken said.

  They hurried down the long hallway, its stone walls scarred in spiral patterns from the massive drill bits that had carved the research center out of the mountain. After passing several side tunnels, they turned into a larger, circular cavern, lit by wall sconces. In the center of the room, a small conference table cluttered with papers, test tubes, and various tools sat facing a bank of vidscreens. One of the screens showed scenes from various security cameras both inside and outside the research center, while another appeared to have a large spreadsheet open on it. Luthena and Brondi wheeled Raynard through the room, and into the infirmary’s surgical bay. The room’s lights flipped on, bathing the bay in bright, white light.

  Luthena donned a pair of sequined e-glasses, which had been dangling around her neck from a string. Falken had used a similar model when he worked in the center himself, dissecting animals for study – they overlaid information on what she was seeing, augmenting her normal vision and displaying data from the research center’s computer.

  “I need surgical guidance,” she said. “Victim has blood loss and open puncture wounds on his right thigh.”

  The research center’s computer chimed to confirm her request. “Assessing patient now. Stand by for detailed treatment instructions.”

  Brondi was pulling supplies out of a medical locker, setting bandages, sutures, and blood transfusion equipment on a rolling tray.

  “You guys need help?” Falken asked, feeling suddenly helpless.

  “Three’s a crowd in here, Falken,” Luthena said, cutting Raynard’s pants leg with a pair of scissors.

  “Okay,” he relented. “Holler if you need a hand.”

  “Will do,” Brondi said.

  Falken backed out of the surgical bay and took a seat at the central conference table. For a moment, he just stared at the table, lost in thought.

  “Is Raynard gonna be okay?” Vina asked.

  She had taken the seat next to him – Falken hadn’t even noticed.

  “Well, Luthena and Brondi are xenobiologists, not surgeons,” Falken said. “But they’re pretty damn close, with the computer backing them up.”

  “That’s good.” She seemed to hesitate, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Falken, I’m … I’m sorry about Greban,” Vina said.

  Greban. Falken felt a lump form in his throat. He clenched his jaw.

  “That was incredibly brave, what he did for us.” She sighed. “And what Ed did doesn’t take away from Greban’s sacrifice at all.”

  Falken nodded. “That’s just Greban. Always putting other people before himself.”

  “Well, I won’t soon forget it. Or him,” Vina said. “And you, too. You got the rest of us here safe,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “You helped,” Falken pointed out. “Keeping the proxies, that was your idea.” He brightened for a moment, and smiled at her. “And I saw you hitting that dragon with the staff. What happened to the woman that was too afraid to take her proxy out of the truck?”

  She smiled back. “I guess a lot’s changed since this morning.”

  Falken exhaled slowly. “This morning? Christ, that’s right. Hard to believe we were out on safari just this morning. Long day.”

  “Yeah.”

  A thought occurred to Falken. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to see that they were still alone. “Vina, I don’t trust Ed.”

  “Well, neither do I,” she said, frowning. “Not after what just happened.”

  “There’s more,” Falken said, dropping his voice low. “I think he may have crashed the Ecolympus.”

  Vina’s frown deepened. “It wasn’t an accident?”

  Falken shook his head. “I don’t think so. And I caught Ed messing around by the engines before we made the trek here.”

  “Why? Why would he have crashed us?”

  “I don’t know. But just … let me know if you see him do anything else suspicious.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Should we tell the others?”

  “Maybe,” Falken said. “If we get a chance.” Falken caught sight of a thin, red mark on Vina’s collarbone – her shirt was ripped, and the edges were stained with blood. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Hm?” She glanced down. “Oh. Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine. When you chased off the dragon that landed on us, he gave me a little nick when he took off. But it’s nothing.” She smiled. “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”

  Where have I heard that expression before? Falken wondered.

  A flashing indicator on one of the vidscreens caught his attention. Falken found a controller sticking out from under an open manila folder, and clicked on it.

  “—Junkies, over. Come in ORC,” a female voice called. On the vidscreen, Hylie’s face appeared, her brow furrowed.

  “Hylie, this is Falken,” he replied.

  She looked up, and relief washed over her face. “Falken, it’s damn good to see you again.”

  Behind her, Falken saw Quiss appear on the screen. “Where’s Greban, eh?” Quiss asked.

  Falken’s face darkened. “We got cornered outside the research center,” Falken said. He felt his throat tighten, and shook his head, unable to continue.

  “Greban saved us,” Vina finished for him. “He drew them away so we could get inside.”

  “Aw, no ….” Quiss said.

  Hylie put her hand to her mouth, aghast. Falken felt a tear roll down his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Falken,” Hylie said finally, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

  He looked up – Shep and Kuda were walking into the room. Shep had a hand held to his temple, where a nasty blue-black welt was forming. They took a seat at the table, too – Falken could see the exhaustion on their faces. Ed walked into the room last – he avoided looking at Falken, and found a chair by the wall, taking a seat.

  “The rest of us are a little banged up,” Falken told Hylie. “I’ve got one guest in surgery now. What’s the ETA on the Liberty Belle?”

  “She should be dropping into orbit within the hour,” Hylie said. “You guys have been through hell … but you’ll be o
ut of there soon.”

  “Yeah,” Falken said. “I’m going to sign off now.”

  “Roger,” Hylie said. “Adrenaline Junkies, out.” The screen returned to views of different security cameras.

  “How long did she say until the Liberty Belle gets here?” Shep asked.

  “Another hour,” Falken echoed. Shep and Kuda shared a brief look, but said nothing. “How’s your head, Shep?”

  “Hurts like hell,” Shep said. “But I’ll be okay.”

  “How do we get on the ship when it lands?” Vina asked.

  “It’ll land on the landing pad we saw outside,” Falken said. “But we won’t have to go outside – it’ll dock with the research center via a boarding tube.”

  “Let’s not go outside again,” Vina said, with conviction.

  “Will the dragons attack the ship on its way in?” Kuda asked.

  “Sometimes they do,” Falken said. “But it’s not your usual long-range shuttle. The Belle’s got upgraded hull armor. She’s used to taking a bit of a beating from the dragons – it won’t be a problem.”

  “They’ve never had problems landing or taking off?” Shep pressed.

  “It hasn’t failed yet,” Falken promised.

  *

  Luthena stepped out of the infirmary bay nearly an hour later. She stripped off a pair of blood-covered latex gloves, dumping them in a nearby trash can, and sighed, running a hand through her gray hair.

  “How’s he doing?” Falken asked.

  “He’s stable,” Luthena said. “We got him dosed up on painkillers, so he’s a little out of it. But we stopped the bleeding, so that’s the important thing.”

  Brondi appeared a moment later, and patted her on the back. “Nice work in there,” he said.

  “And you,” Luthena replied. “Far cry from testing dragon blood samples, huh?”

  “Mm,” Brondi agreed. He scanned the survivors sitting around the room. “Well, welcome to the Olympus Research Center. Sorry that you’re visiting under such … unfortunate circumstances.”

  “Thanks for taking us in,” Falken told him.

  “Oh, please,” Brondi waved him away. “We’re happy to help. Did you give Hylie a call?”