Dragons vs. Drones

by Wesley King

  Marcus, Dree, and Lourdvang had circled overhead for hours while Dree’s family made the ascent to the cave. It wasn’t an easy climb, but unfortunately without fire-resistant armor, none of them could climb onto Lourdvang. Only when Dree’s family was safely tucked into the cave did Dree, Marcus, and Lourdvang return to the den. They needed a plan.

  Dree’s mind was on her father. He had looked ashamed as he stood before Lourdvang and Erdath—afraid to meet their eyes and stealing furtive, bewildered looks, as if he was staring into the past and wondering if he could still return to it. At one point she had seen him wipe his eyes gruffly with his sleeve. She knew he was probably thinking of his dragon, Delpath. Delpath had been killed many years before by hunters, a few years after the split between humans and dragons, and she knew her father still mourned him every day. He refused to even look at the merchant stands in the city. When she thought of Lourdvang being killed for his fangs and scales and heart, she wondered how he could even look at humans without hatred.

  Marcus’s thoughts were elsewhere. The flight back to the mountains had been a silent one as he stared out at the devastated landscape. The drones had laid waste to some of the outlying towns as well, leaving hollowed-out ruins and bodies in the soil. Once or twice he thought he saw an almost ghostly black dot slip in and out of the clouds on the horizon. They were watching, waiting, and Marcus still suspected that the attacks would not end until Dracone was devoid of all sentient life. If he was right, the U.S. government could then waltz in through the portal, push the smoking ruins aside, and strip the world bare.

  The idea made him feel sick and ashamed. He wondered again if his father had known about all this. If that was why George Brimley had traveled to Dracone, and why he had never come back. Maybe he was just trying to save this beautiful world from his own people. Marcus wanted to believe it so badly that it already seemed true. His father was no traitor. He was a hero that had been betrayed by his own government.

  That hope was the only thing keeping Marcus going. His father was somewhere in Dracone, and Marcus was going to find him and help him shut that portal forever. But first he had to stop the drones.

  When they returned to the den, Marcus sought out Erdath to ask why he had decided to help. The ancient dragon had taken a long time to answer.

  “Because a decade of hate does not erase a thousand years of friendship,” he said at last, smoke curling out of his nostrils as if he was puffing on a cigar. “If we do not work together, we will both be destroyed.”

  Work together, Marcus thought to himself.

  “So what now?” Dree asked, her eyes on the flitting red and yellow birds.

  Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought maybe I could reprogram one of the drones, but how am I supposed to get one to stand still long enough to hook up my laptop? The only one that isn’t flying around shooting things is lying in the middle of—”

  Marcus stopped. He slowly turned to Dree, his mind racing.

  “You’re a welder.”

  Dree was already way ahead of him. “I wouldn’t know how to rebuild—”

  “You wouldn’t have to make it the exact same as it was,” Marcus cut in, running through the necessary logistics. The main computer processor would still be there. The propulsion engines. The weapons. “You could design it how you want.”

  He grinned, turning to Lourdvang and eyeing his massive wings and scales.

  “In fact, we could probably make some improvements.”

  Dree frowned, following his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

  “What if we combined the technology of the drones with the maneuverability and intelligence and fire of a dragon? A hybrid of the two. It would be far more powerful than the existing drones—it could wipe them out.”

  Dree was skeptical. The toy dragonfly was one thing, but building something the size of Lourdvang sounded nearly impossible. Everything would have to be on a larger scale. Still, if she had the drone structure to build upon, it might be feasible. It was ambitious, but maybe not impossible. Besides, she didn’t exactly have a better plan.

  “We would need more materials,” she said. “And torches.”

  “Can we steal that from Wilhelm’s?”

  Dree considered that. “Maybe, but I think we’d need more than he has in stock.” She suddenly thought of something. “The steel mill where my mom works—they have tons of raw metal and welding equipment. She told me it’s abandoned now—the drones hit it soon after she left. We could get everything we need there.”

  Marcus turned to Lourdvang. “We’re going to need—”

  “Dragons,” Lourdvang said. “I’ll get two of them to take you to the drone. They can lift it back here together. Dree and I will go to the mill to get the materials we need.”

  Marcus grinned. “Perfect.”

  “You’re serious about this?” Dree asked.

  “Very,” Marcus said, the grin slipping off his face. “In fact, it may be our only chance to save Dracone.”

  Lourdvang and Dree landed outside the steel mill, both of them solemn. The massive factory was abandoned, a smoking hole puncturing the side and revealing tangled clumps of machinery within. It had been built almost a decade earlier, at the beginning of the economic revolution, and it had been churning out steel products ever since.

  Dree slipped off of Lourdvang’s back and checked the evening sky, feeling her skin prickle. The city was eerily silent, which only made her more anxious. She almost wished she could see a drone. Not knowing where they were was even more terrifying. She felt like one was going to pop out at any moment and blow them to pieces.

  “Move quickly,” Lourdvang grumbled, obviously thinking the same thing.

  She darted over to the storage yard and combed through the stacks of processed metal. There were huge steel girders and frames and cart axles, as well as long sheets and tin roof slats. She laid the most ideal pieces into a pile, making sure they were arranged so Lourdvang could easily scoop them up in his claws. She selected thin sheet metal, pipes and pistons, and steel girders, as well as smaller scrap materials that could be crafted into the more detailed sections and inner mechanisms. She didn’t understand the drones, but she understood steel and movement and flight. She would have to build the dragonfly toy on a massive scale—capable of intricate in-flight maneuvers and yet sturdy enough to withstand missiles and machine gun fire. Marcus told her there wasn’t even anything like it in his world, and they were far ahead of Dracone in terms of technology.

  But Marcus pointed out that his world also didn’t have magic, and the dragons exuded it. With Lourdvang’s help, he was confident they could make it work. Marcus was a different person when he had a mission: He was focused and passionate and optimistic.

  He was pretty much the only one. Erdath and the other dragons had immediately dismissed the idea and thought that the mere notion of a dragon/drone hybrid was unseemly. But Marcus had at least persuaded them to help gather the scraps.

  When she had collected enough materials, Dree sprinted into the mill to find the welding equipment. The inside was still thick with dust and lingering smoke, blurring a scene of an obviously panicked escape. Scattered clothes and boots and tools lay everywhere, dropped onto the concrete and forgotten. Gloomy sunlight was pouring in through the massive hole in the wall, but otherwise the building was dark. It took her a while to track the equipment down, but finally she managed to find torches, spare tanks, and a few other small items that would allow her to craft the finer joints and gears: casts and scrap iron that she could use Lourdvang’s fire to forge.

  She passed a door in the dreary darkness and paused, thinking that it seemed out of place. There was a large DO NOT ENTER sign affixed to the heavy stainless steel, but it was hardly necessary. A massive padlock sat above the handle, and another bolt ran along the top. Nobody was getting in there without a key, though she didn’t see
a slot.

  Dree was just heading back outside when she noticed a huge shadow darkening the doorway. Lourdvang was huddled against the wall, clearly hiding from something. She gingerly stepped outside, following his gaze upward. There was a solitary drone far overhead, moving slowly and silently across the sky. She could see the fiery red eye scanning the ground below, and she wondered what it was looking for. What was it doing? Why not fire on the city now and finish its work? Why wait and watch in silence? It didn’t make any sense.

  “I saw it a few minutes ago,” Lourdvang said. “We’ll wait until it passes.”

  They waited there, huddled against the cool steel wall and watching the drone fade into the distance. Dree clutched the heavy welding equipment against her stomach.

  When the sky was clear, they hurried into the storage yard. Lourdvang scooped up the big pile of metal in his front claws while Dree lugged the bulky welding equipment up onto his back.

  “Try and take it slow,” she said, setting everything on her lap.

  “No problem,” he rumbled. “Other than the murderous drones patrolling the city.”

  “Was that sarcasm?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m learning.”

  Dree snorted as Lourdvang flapped his wings and lifted slowly off the ground, skipping his usual bounding leap. She tried to hold on to the equipment and still keep a hand on his scales, but she eventually gave up. She’d just have to hope he didn’t make any sudden turns, or she would go flying off his back with the equipment.

  Dree watched the horizon carefully as they flew out of the city, but other than a fleeting glimpse of black to the south, she saw nothing except exodus and mounting defense. The poorer people in the scattered towns and villages were heading downtown in great masses, seeking shelter in the so-far untouched shops and buildings of the downtown core. The ivory palace also remained intact, tall and gleaming in the middle of the destruction. But how long would that last? As far as Dree was concerned, they were all just sheep going to the slaughter.

  The sun was just starting to set over the mountains, casting a brilliant orange glow over the sky. They flew toward it slowly, Lourdvang obviously beset by the heavy weight. He was forced to flap his massive wings almost constantly to stay aloft.

  They were almost to the den when Dree saw the strangest sight of her life. In the distance, it looked like a great, lumbering dragon was barely making it across the sky, holding some sort of enormous prey in its talons. As they closed in, she realized it was two black dragons carrying the demolished drone between them, Marcus looking on in concern from the back of one. He was leaning over to keep an eye on the drone.

  “Careful!” he shouted over the wind.

  Dree couldn’t help but smile. Marcus was so intent on his project that he was yelling at a dragon, which was never a good idea. Perhaps there was a lot more to the gangly boy than met the eye.

  They all set down on the overhanging ledge at the same time, the drone clanging loudly off the stone just as Lourdvang released the huge pile of metal. Dree and Marcus leapt off their respective dragons, and Marcus hurried over to her, grinning as he looked at the materials. He was already running through a mental checklist.

  “Perfect,” he said. “Did you see that drone over the city?”

  Dree nodded. “What do you think it was doing?”

  “Surveying the next attack. Which means we have to move quickly.”

  He turned toward the cavern, but Dree grabbed his arm.

  “Do you really think this will work?”

  Marcus paused. “I have no idea. But we have to try.” He walked over to one of the two dragons that had retrieved the drone. “Can we get this inside?” he asked, inspecting the haul.

  The dragon growled at him, black smoke spewing like a fog and completely covering Marcus. Marcus slowly reappeared as the murky cloud dissipated. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he walked over to the pile of metal and started grabbing pieces. Lourdvang roared with laughter and then started to help.

  Dree just sighed. This was going to be interesting.

  She hurried into the cavern to prepare her tools. It was time to get to work.

  Chapter

  17

  The work was incredibly grueling. Night came and went by the light of a welding torch as Dree and Marcus disassembled the ruined drone, harvesting its processing core and other essential components and putting the hull aside to be rebuilt into their hybrid dragon. They were set up in a small side cavern where they would have some privacy, but curious dragons popped in constantly to watch. On the plus side, it kept the cavern warm.

  Dree was astounded by the seemingly infinite pieces within the drone. Her creations were much simpler, but Marcus said the mechanisms could still be combined with the electronics and power cells of the drone technology. With his programming knowledge, her welding skills, and Lourdvang’s inherent understanding of dragon flight, they had a slim chance of making something that could actually fight the drones.

  Dree was unconvinced, but she was certainly going to try. It weighed on her constantly that her family was huddled in a cave, safe but stuck in the darkness, far from home. And even there, the drones would find them eventually. Nowhere was completely safe.

  As they worked, Marcus outlined what they knew about the drones.

  “There are three types,” he said as he carefully removed some of the inner mechanisms. “The red-eyed ones—Trackers. We know they keep a watch on the city, maybe looking for targets. They have dual machine guns and light missiles.”

  “I know,” Dree said dryly. “I’m looking at one as we speak.”

  Marcus ignored her. “Then we have the white ones—we’ll call them Destroyers. They seem to swoop in for the major attacks. Probably heavy armor, definitely heavy-duty machine guns and missiles.” He removed a delicate wire and placed it in the pile. “And finally we have the little ones—Researchers. I think they’re just collecting data and surveying the countryside. Maybe for resources. I doubt they’re armed, but it would be light weaponry if they are.”

  Dree thought about that as she removed an armored plate.

  “So they have three types, and we have a hybrid that probably won’t even work.”

  Marcus sighed. “Yep.”

  After they had disassembled the drone, aided at times by Lourdvang’s fearsome claws, Marcus took the processing core and sat in the corner with his laptop. He managed to extract the main processor chip from the drone’s core and plug it into his computer. An endless stream of code popped up on his screen, and he took a breath. This was not going to be easy.

  But he had the picture of the coding on the wall, and he suspected the clue to all of this was hidden somewhere in there. It would just take hours—or days—to decipher. While he worked on that, Dree began the most complex welding job of her life. She had no schematics or designs. She was working solely on instinct, along with the gentle advice of Lourdvang, who watched over everything. He had never seen her weld before, but he had an innate fascination for building. It wasn’t a dragon trait.

  Late into the night they took a break to sleep, and Dree and Marcus lay down on the hard stone next to Lourdvang—both using their packs as pillows. It was cold up in the mountains, but with Lourdvang there, it was like sleeping next to a burning hearth. Marcus fidgeted on the ground, staring up at the shadows. Everything was pitch-black.

  “Your family seemed nice,” he said. “You look like your dad.”

  “People tell me that sometimes,” Dree said. “Do you miss your family?”

  Marcus paused. “I don’t really have one. My dad’s best friend has been taking care of me since he left, but my mom died when I was very young. I never knew her.”

  Dree glanced over at his shadowy form. They were close—only a few feet apart—but she could barely make him out. “How long has your father been mi
ssing?”

  “Eight years,” he said quietly.

  “And you have been searching all this time?”

  “I’ll search the rest of my life, if I have to.”

  “How do you know he’s alive?”

  “I just know.” Marcus looked at her. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “You said the name Gavri earlier, in the school. Who is that?”

  Dree was silent for a long time. She didn’t talk about Gavri with anyone—not even Abi. But for some reason it was easier to talk to Marcus. She felt comfortable with him, like she somehow knew he would understand her pain and guilt better than most. “My little brother. He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said. “When?”

  “About seven years ago. I was five.”

  “What happened?”

  Lourdvang shifted beside Dree, obviously wondering if she would confide in Marcus. Lourdvang knew the story—all of it. He knew how much it tormented her.

  “He died in a fire,” she said finally. “My house burned down.”

  Marcus glanced at her. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

  Dree didn’t know why she said the next thing. It just came out.

  “I started it.”

  It tore Dree apart to admit it, and she immediately wondered what Marcus would think of her. That she was a murderer. A freak. Maybe he would leave.

  Marcus just lay there for a moment, unsure of how to reply. “Why?”

  “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice cracking just a little. “I was angry. My parents sent me to my room. I felt this . . . heat, and I couldn’t stop it. I let it pour out onto my bed, and the fire started spreading everywhere. It moved so quickly. I didn’t know what to do—I just froze and watched it. When I finally realized what was happening, I ran to get my family. My dad dragged me out, but Gavri . . . he didn’t make it. They had to leave him behind.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them. In the darkness she could finally cry again. She could let it out—the memories that followed her everywhere.