“Thank you, Roshanak,” Jaci said past the lump in her throat.
“We … need to get going,” Bright said. “It’s a long flight to the south. She’ll be safe there.”
“Call me if you ever need help with her leg,” Jaci said, watching Bright climb onto Roshanak’s back. “Don’t disappear for three years before you contact me again.”
Bright blushed, looking down at her hands guiltily.
“I definitely won’t let that happen again,” she said. “You’re my best friend, and the best engineer I know.”
Roshanak growled as though in agreement. She reared up on her hind legs, spreading her wings to their full span. With one, two, three beats of her wings, Roshanak was airborne. She hovered in the air for a few seconds, she and Bright looking down at Jaci one last time. Then, she straightened her body and soared over Jaci’s head to the south. She watched them fly high over the fields and farms of the countryside before they disappeared into the gathering clouds.
Jaci pulled out her phone, dialing her aunt’s number.
“Hey, Auntie, can you come get me?” she said.
“Of course, sunshine. Where are you?”
“I’m … out in the countryside … by the highway …”
“… Why?”
Jaci giggled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
About C.B. Carr
I am a recent graduate living in Panama City, Florida. This is my first story I’ve ever submitted for publication, and I’m looking forward to doing more in the future. Although I went to school for political science, writing is my passion and something that I truly enjoy.
In the Hearts of Dragons
by Stephanie Wagner
As the docking bay doors slid open, the first thing Marisol Ellison noticed was the scent of the air. Unlike the dry, sterile atmosphere on the shuttle pod from Earth, the air on board the Dragonship was green, fresh, alive. Gentle breezes stirred the silky, dark hair around her shoulders, and the sunlight panels on the ten-meter ceiling warmed the tawny-copper skin of her face. Peering over the entrance platform railing to ground level, she could see groves of trees, wide swaths of grass, and patches of flowers and garden plants scattered here and there.
“Impressive, isn't it?”
Marisol turned to see a tall, pale young man with short light brown hair, one of the new crewmembers she hadn't met on the shuttle ride up. He wore a slightly sardonic smile as he took in her disbelief at the Dragon. Marisol shrugged and smiled. “I guess you don't realize what it's like inside these liveships until you're in one. I've studied the genetic schematics and biology, watched the virtual tours, but seeing this much life, inside another living creature, in space, well—” She shrugged again. “It's nothing like the techships that run cargo around Earth and the solar system.”
The rest of the new crewmembers were filtering out around them, each showing a measure of the amazement Marisol had felt at seeing the inside of the Dragonship for the first time. They all turned as one, hearing a shouted greeting from the path below them.
“Hello, my friends!” Rolling up the ramp in a lightweight carbon fiber wheelchair, the speaker was a dark-skinned man of about forty, with a gleaming white grin and dark eyes dancing with excitement. “Welcome to our Dragon. I am Dr. Noah Ekwensi, and I'll be showing you fledglings around and helping you get settled in. When you're ready, follow me.” Marisol and the others gathered their few bags and fell in behind him. “It looks like most of you have gotten your first look at our outdoors.” He looked back at them and winked. “Or as close as we get to outdoors here in space. The whole first level is soil-based, where we grow our trees, keep our livestock, and have most of our meals and social events.”
“You keep livestock on the ship?” asked Yumiko Miyamoto, a petite, vivacious solar panel engineering apprentice. Marisol had become quite fond of the gregarious girl since meeting up for the shuttle flight several days ago.
“Only small animals, but yes. Chickens, ducks, rabbits. Goats for milk. They help balance our ecosystem and give us some variety in our protein beyond the algae and aquaponics tanks. You'll find them rotating around the pasture areas down here.”
Dr. Ekwensi continued pointing out features of the ship—amphitheater, meal hall, artisan workshops—and Marisol found herself matching them to the images and blueprints she had studied over the last four years. Science labs on the second floor. Vertical farms built-in around the perimeter. Two years of undergrad work with a focus in Dragonship biology and engineering, and two more years of advanced apprentice study with Earth-based mentors, and now she was actually here, living inside one of the creatures that had fascinated her since childhood. Her fingers itched to get her scanners running.
Marisol brought her attention back to the present as Dr. Ekwensi stopped in front of one of the ramps up to the living quarters. Making her way to her assigned rooms, she palmed the door lock to confirm her identity and flopped face down onto her bed, exhausted.
* * *
Marisol's first week on the Dragon flew by in a blur of names and faces, finding the bio-gen labs and meeting the onboard scientists, eagerly trading details of their fields of study and current projects. She could have stayed there for days, absorbed in her new experiments, but eventually Yumiko sought her out and cheerfully dragged her off to join her work party for an evening of weeding and raking the outdoor gardens. The familiar work relaxed her, and she laughed and chatted with the others nearby. As they were finishing up their area, they were met by two more people. One was the tall, pale young man who had spoken to her when they arrived, and the other was a shorter, curvy, middle-aged woman with dark hair pulled up in a loose bun. Marisol's group greeted the newcomers, and Marisol waved and stepped forward. “Hi, I don't think we've officially met. I'm Marisol Ellison. You're new here too, aren't you?”
He nodded and shook her hand. “Yes. I'm Alan Russell, studying neurotech interface design and engineering. Nice to meet you.”
Marisol turned to the woman, who smiled and shook her hand warmly. “I'm Ilona Alessi, pilot.”
Marisol gasped. “The Dragon's bondmate? I've been wanting to talk to you since I found out I was coming to this ship! I've been studying the biology of the Dragons' telepathic connection to their bonded pilots, but books and essays can only explain so much, even the ones written by people who were bonded themselves, and I've really been hoping I could actually talk to you so I could ask some questions about the process, and …” she trailed off, realizing she was starting to ramble.
Ilona laughed. “What enthusiasm! I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. Perhaps, since you're so interested in the subject, you'd like to see the Dragon's Heart?”
“I'd love to!”
“That's the point of interface where the pilot commands the ship, right?” said Alan.
“Hmm, to a point.” said Ilona. “It's not like sitting at a console and steering the controls. The Heart is full of sensory and telepathic connections, and that makes it possible for the bondmate's mind to merge with that of the Dragon. After that, the two are able to fly the ship together. You're welcome to come and see it as well, if you'd like.”
Alan inclined his head and they set off down the path. The trail wound in gentle curves through fields and trees, patches of sunlight and dappled shade.
“So, how did you become the pilot?” Marisol asked.
“Well, I went through quite a lot of training,” said Ilona. “Most of the time it's much easier and safer for a Dragon to bond with someone who has been trained in the mental control and focus it takes to form the telepathic connection. There's also personality evaluations and counseling to make sure you're the type of person who can handle the bond without being overwhelmed and losing yourself. Ultimately, though, it's the Dragon's choice. I was only one of several bond-trained people on the ship when the previous pilot left to join his husband's land-side community, but luckily the Dragon chose me.” She smiled. “It would be the same if a pilot
died. The Dragon chooses a new bondmate and makes a new connection.”
Turning a last corner, they reached the Heart of the ship. A glass-walled hexagonal structure surrounded a central pedestal with a glowing pale purple sphere embedded in the top. Marisol stepped through the doors, awed. The glow seemed to pulse slightly, almost in a heartbeat rhythm. Books and holoscreens had not done it justice. “It looks so … so alive!” Marisol said, then blushed at the ridiculous statement.
“That's because it is. It's the living mind of the ship,” Ilona chuckled. “The physical part, that we can see and touch and connect to.”
“May I touch it?” asked Alan, gesturing toward the sphere.
“Of course,” said Ilona.
Alan stepped forward and placed his hands on the sphere. His eyes unfocused, his face blank and still. They waited in silence for several minutes, then he blinked and stepped back. “Didn't feel anything, I'm afraid.” He smiled tightly.
“Don't feel bad,” Ilona said. “Most people don't, unless they've been trained. It's safer for everyone that way. Marisol, would you like to try?”
Marisol froze for a moment then nodded hesitantly, placing her hands flat on the sides of the sphere. She watched the glow inside softly pulse. For several moments she felt nothing, breathed a sigh of relief, then like the brush of a wing she felt a tickle in her mind, something gentle and curious and definitely other, and she barely had time to panic at the extra presence before it was gone. She stumbled back from the center, almost tripping over her feet. “I felt it. It touched my mind!”
Ilona's dark eyes widened. “That is unusual. Perhaps you have some natural telepathic ability. Or perhaps it just likes you!”
Marisol laughed. “Well, no offense to the Dragon, but I think I'll stick to studying its biology. They are amazing creatures, but I don't think I could handle another being in my mind. I'll leave that to the professionals.”
As they headed back along the path, Marisol glanced over her shoulder for one last look. The pulsing glow seemed a little brighter, a little faster than she remembered, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling it was watching her go.
* * *
Marisol dreamed of walking through a forest. There was something she was supposed to find, something that should be just behind the next tree but kept disappearing. She started running, but it only danced away faster. Hopelessly lost, she searched and searched, and eventually came to a clearing. She stopped, looked up, and saw a deep black sky, studded with millions of diamond-bright stars. Mesmerized, she found swirls of galaxies, bright cloud nebulae, planets and comets and things she had no name for. As she gazed into the sky, she felt a presence behind her. Finally, she knew she had found what she was searching for. She stretched out her arms, and it leaped to her breast.
The next thing she knew, the presence was in her mind and she was not simply looking at the night sky, she was in the night sky. She soared through space, slipping through the currents of the void like a bird on the wind. She adjusted her wings, drinking in the solar radiation for energy, powering up her quantum drives for the jump to hyperspace. She felt joy, excitement. This was what she was made for. This was her purpose.
Marisol jerked awake. She breathed hard, unsettled after the most vivid dream she could remember having. She searched her mind—alone, no other presence. She lay back down, but it took her a long time to go back to sleep.
* * *
Morning found Marisol in the meal hall, yawning as she sat down with her breakfast. Yumiko was already at the table with Alan, engaged in a heated debate. “What are we talking about?”
Yumiko frowned. “ExoCorp's Delta colony annexed three more mining and shipbuilding settlements.“
Marisol shrugged and stirred honey into her oatmeal. “Most of ExoCorp's colonies have been shrinking ever since the mega-corp splintered. Delta's taken every one it can get its claws into.”
“They've also started to send out communications to some of our ships and larger ports on Earth, wanting to open up trade with us.”
Marisol paused. “That's new.”
“They've got resources, but not the technology. If they got our hyperspace tech, it would give them a big edge over the rest of the colonies.” Yumiko raised her chin and scowled. “They might even be able to reunify.”
Marisol looked back and forth between them. “No one's agreed to trade with them, right?”
“No.” Yumiko sighed. “But Alan thinks we should open negotiations with ExoCorp Delta.”
“What? Why?”
Alan raised his hands in a placating gesture. “All I'm saying is they have materials and resources we could use. Think how much we could expand our land-side communities, build more ships, breed more Dragons. It could be good for us, give us some security.”
“Alan, the ExoCorp colonies get their resources by exploiting most of their people,” Marisol said. “It's essentially indentured servitude. We can't support that.”
“It's not nearly that bad,” said Alan. “I've studied them. Everyone has the opportunity to improve their situation. There are lots of stories about people who started out with nothing and ended up commanding whole mining colonies or fleets of ships.”
“And those who don't?” said Marisol, irritably poking at her oatmeal. “Last I heard, ninety-some percent of colonists spend their whole lives working and barely have enough to eat.”
“Most of what I've seen shows that the people who are actually motivated to work hard and improve themselves have good lives,” said Alan, leaning over the table. “Their fleets and colonies have reported significant growth in the past twenty years or so, and their scientists are close to several technological breakthroughs. If they're going to get there anyway, shouldn't we get something out of it?”
“Alan, ExoCorp isn't going to get anywhere. The only reason Delta is doing so well is because it's cannibalizing the rest of the colonies. It can only grow so far without hyperspace tech. Why would we want to give that to them?”
“And if they develop it on their own?” Alan clenched his fists, then laid them flat on the table. “If we open trade now, it's on our terms. We could grow enough to maintain a position of influence over them.”
Marisol pushed the remains of her breakfast away, not hungry anymore. “It took fifty years and most of the scientists on Earth to develop the Dragonships. The only reason Delta's trying to open trade now is they know they won't be able to engineer them on their own. It could be incredibly dangerous to give them this tech—we don't need to grow if it means bringing ExoCorp back to power.”
Alan got up from the table and slowly nodded to them. “It was just an idea. No harm meant—I won't bring it up again.”
Marisol and Yumiko nodded and got up as well, waving good-bye before hurrying off to their labs.
* * *
The weeks meandered on, Marisol volunteering in the gardens in her free time and taking on a project studying the organic solar paneling making up the Dragon's wings. She was deep in discussion with Yumiko and some of the other engineers, tossing around ideas for possible improvements, when the whole ship shuddered and began screeching its alarm klaxons. The lights and computer screens flickered, and the ever-present hum of the quantum drives died. Marisol clapped her hands over her ears, but it seemed the screaming alarm was inside her head, it was still so loud. She felt a burst of fear, pain, something horribly wrong. A moment later, Yumiko was yelling to the senior engineer, “What's happening? Why did we stop?”
“I don't know,” Dr. Shepard yelled back. She hit the communication panel on the computer terminal. “Observation station, Dana, what's going on?”
“I don't know, Val!” A woman's voice crackled through the speakers. “We didn't hit anything. Everything was clear. We just dropped out of hyper in the middle of nowhere and we're not moving. Something must have happened to Ilona or the Dragon would still be flying.”
“Shit.” Dr. Shepard switched the communication panel to ship-wide broadcast and yelled
over the still-blaring alarms. “Everyone, attention! The Dragon has dropped out of hyperspace but appears to be undamaged. We believe something may have happened to our pilot. Any med-trained people report to the Heart as soon as possible. That is all.”
With that, she ran from the lab. Marisol and the others followed, and it seemed the entire ship was converging on the little glass structure. Shepard elbowed her way through the crowd, eventually making it to a clearer area near the doors. Inside, Dr. Ekwensi examined the prone, crumpled body of Ilona Alessi, surrounded by a number of other med-trained people. Marisol spotted Alan pressed against the back wall of the enclosure and made her way through the crowded space to him.
“She just dropped,” he was saying to the doctors, voice catching, eyes averted from the sight. “I was talking to her while she flew the ship, and she just … just collapsed.” Marisol put her arm around his shoulders, squeezing sympathetically, and he stiffened and turned his head away.
“It looks like a ruptured aneurysm,” said Dr. Ekwensi, putting away his portable scanner. “There must have been a weakness in one of her brain's blood vessels we missed at her last checkup. Gods, what a shame.” He rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head.
“Don't blame yourself, Noah,” said Shepard, placing her hands on either side of the Heart. She frowned and concentrated for a few moments. With a last trailing wail, the alarms cut out and faded into silence.
“Can you make the bond?” Ekwensi asked. “You had the best communication with the Dragon after Ilona.”
Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology Page 3