Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology

by Claudie Arseneault

  The Dragon paused in thought. He reached out one long claw and, with an ease that defied the incredible size of the fallen shuttle, he set it back upon its framework. I now saw that Mr. Hankers was sitting within, coated in a thick blanket of broken glass and fuming anger.

  “Has your understanding caught up with your power, little one?” Aranai asked.

  Mr. Hankers didn't look as sure anymore. His fine suit was torn. His face was bleeding from a thousand small cuts. His hair was almost as frayed and wild as his eyes.

  “Shoot it! What on Earth are you all waiting for? Shoot that creature!” Mr. Hankers bellowed before ducking behind the control panel of the shuttle.

  The Dragon's claw folded around Mr. Hankers and the shuttle alike. It crumpled like a soda can.

  Guns were raised higher, but no shots rang out.

  “His understanding did not increase, so I decreased his power to change. If this balance is maintained, I will concede that my duty has been fulfilled,” snorted the Dragon. “I have done much damage already. Will you really still choose understanding over rebuilding your way of life?”

  “It doesn't have to be a choice,” I said. “The unstable fusion reactors have already been destroyed. After the damage they have caused, the people will not allow them to be rebuilt. I already have designs for a project that will harness the ocean currents for energy. If we are to rebuild our way of life, we will do so only through understanding.”

  The Dragon bowed its head in acknowledgement. A jump, and then one, two, three beats from its powerful wings, and it was already at the ceiling. Light scattered from its scales and bathed everyone watching. As the Dragon disappeared into the sky, the speaker system crackled to life one last time.

  “If you do not forget the curse I have brought, then I will not have been a curse. Move with care, my children. I will be watching.”

  About Tobias Wade

  As a child I constructed a spaceship capable of superluminal speeds powered by a fusion core reactor. The submission was denied by NASA on the grounds that it was made entirely of LEGOS. In high school I was told that I could do anything I wanted in life, while only being taught everything that I didn't want to be. I probably deserved the detentions I received. In college I completed two Bachelors of Science in Psychology and Physiology and worked as a researching neuroscientist.

  During my psychological studies it struck me as odd that I could learn so much about why humans behave without really understanding the intricacies of human nature. It occurred to me that I had learned more about the depths of human experience from reading Dostoyevsky than I ever had from my text books, and I was inspired to write.

  Fighting Fire with Fire

  by Gemini Pond

  Taneen tells us stories of a time when the earth was dying, when the desert encroached on fertile land, stealing its nutrients and replacing them with arid sand. Looking around the sprawling orchard before me, I cannot believe it ever looked different than it does now. He says these stories are lessons, that the desert is always hungry and we must always be diligent. I think the old dragon just likes to hear himself talk.

  As if my thoughts summon him, I see a great shadow pass over where I am standing. Taneen also says there was a time when people ran in fear of his presence, but that was before he offered his help to combat the growing desert. First, he had watched as our forefathers slowly planted individual trees along the desert line, tending each one as they went. They were the front line in the greater plan to create a band of trees thousands of miles long and thirty miles thick. The leaders of more than twenty countries agreed to the plan, but it was the people who made it work. Taneen says he admired their tenacity as they dug one hole at a time and cared for every single tree. He offered them his help, dropping thousands of seeds across the fields and using his massive claws to dig holes faster than a single person could.

  A moment after he passes, the wind catches up and buffets its way through the trees, almost knocking me to the ground. “Show off,” I mutter before hurrying towards the square. Despite my earlier musings, visits from the dragon are few and far between, and his flair for the dramatic keeps us entertained.

  When I get to the square, though, the atmosphere isn't like it usually is when Taneen arrives. Instead of children climbing his golden scales and trying to pounce on his long tail, he is perched in a corner with the council. Anxious eyes fix on him as his deep voice murmurs to the others. I approach my friend Bukky and lay my hand on her shoulder. “What's going on?” I ask.

  “Eno,” she responds, putting her hand on top of mine, “I don't know. I thought I heard them mention a fire, but there's no smoke that I can see.” Her brows crease in worry. “We've never had a fire before, what if it destroys all our hard work?”

  “There's no way one little fire can destroy generations of growth,” I scoff, but my bravado is mostly for her. I don't know how much damage a fire could do if left unchecked, though Bukky is right and there is still no sign of smoke in the sky.

  Anxiousness grows as the crowd builds, and I'm almost certain everyone from our village has gathered in the square by now, drawn by Taneen's shadow and the hope of stories from our past. Instead, they are met with whispers of a fire, and eyes nervously scan the sky, trying to find any hint of impending flames. It feels like time stands still as we wait for word of what is going on.

  Finally, Taneen and the council turn toward us, and we can all sense the concern radiating from them. It is the council leader, Ade, who speaks to the waiting crowd.

  “I'm sure you have heard from the whispers of your neighbors,” he begins, “Taneen is not here for a social visit. He brings word of a fire being brought this way by the wind. He tells us it began just on this side of the Wall, near the desert, and will probably be here in two weeks. Within the next few days if the winds pick up.”

  “What do we do?” a voice calls out.

  Ade glares in the direction of the voice, though I'm not sure if he's frustrated about being interrupted or about the frightened whispers it elicits from the crowd. “What we have always done in times like these: survive.”

  The crowd murmurs uneasily again, though the people sound less frightened than previously. Taneen shifts his weight and lifts his head high above everyone else. “I have watched Kebbil develop with the growth of the trees,” he says, and his great booming voice echoes around the square, though there isn't much to create an echo. “Before the trees, before the growth, your ancestors lived in what you call poverty. I would pass over this village and watch the young starve and the grown seek power through evil means to keep their families fed. As the trees were planted and the desert was pushed back, your people flourished. You grew healthy, you became whole. A Saharan Dragon is not meant to want the desert to stop expanding; yet watching you thrive has brought me more joy than watching my territory spread. It is why I joined your people in planting and why I continue to monitor the edge of the desert. I intend to make sure that what your ancestors wanted for you does come true and that you continue to leave this world better for your young. If your ancestors could stop a desert, you can stop a fire.”

  I can feel my pride swelling, and see that pride reflected on the faces of neighbors I have known my whole life. We are the same tough beings our predecessors had to be to stop the desertification of our village, our country, and our world. What is a fire but the desert with claws, heat and power seeking to destroy everything it touches? We defeated one; we would defeat its cousin as well.

  The winds are on our side over the coming days. While the fire does not slow, it also does not quicken its pace, moving through the forest that makes up the majority of the Wall. We are lucky we are so far from the edge where it began. Although we are at risk, none of the orchards are gone.

  Smoke appears on the horizon the day after Taneen bears his news and a stronger thread of fear weaves its way among the villagers. It only encourages us to work harder though.

  While Taneen flies back and forth to report
the distance and damage, groups of men hike through the forest to try to cut a path through the undergrowth and thin the trees to stop the fire before it gets close to us. Taneen helps gather buckets of sand to throw on the fire when the time comes. Ade contacts other village leaders and councils, utilizing the solar energy that works so well in an area with so much sun. Soon my small village is full of strangers here to prevent the fire from taking the homes we have worked so hard to create.

  By the fifth day, the smell of smoke permeates everything around us and the sky is hidden behind a curtain of darkness. Taneen is once again huddled with the council, though they are joined by men and women I do not recognize. There is an air of confidence to them that seems to set the crowd at ease. It is Ade who addresses us when they finish their meeting.

  “I look out at a sea of faces, and I cannot help but be honored that so many of you have come. Of course I see my friends, neighbors and family, but others are strangers who are drawn here by the same desire—to preserve the Great Green Wall created by our forefathers; some of the same technology that helped preserve our lives. It helped grow our pride in ourselves, in our communities, in our country and we will not lose that pride so easily! We will not lose our lives so easily! We will not give up all that we have fought for because a fire threatens us! We come from people who built everything from nothing, and we will live!”

  A cheer goes up from those gathered around me and I feel my heart swell with pride. We had risen above what other people thought we could not do; we broke so many stereotypes. Living on the edge of the Sahara had once been thought to be a death sentence, yet now we are self-sustaining. We are communities the rest of the world strives to be like: cooperative, supporting each other, and taking care of ourselves. We showed that humanity could turn the tides on the effect we'd had on the planet. We had every right to be proud and to take back our forest from the fire that wished to devour it.

  Once the cheering dies down, Ade addresses us again. “I will not force any of you to stay and fight this fire with us. Our children and the elderly are currently being evacuated to make sure we preserve our past and our future. We will need people to go with them and protect them. Guarding them is just as important as fighting the flames.

  “Those of you who stay may be putting yourselves in danger, but you are the only ones who can decide what to do with your life. We will be dividing up and taking on the fire in teams, with Taneen and council members as leaders. We ask that you please divide yourselves into groups of ten to fifteen, and a leader will join you shortly to tell you what your role is.”

  The crowd hurries to do what Ade has asked. I grab Bukky's hand and we join a group that has formed near us where we all make hasty introductions. There is little time to talk and learn about each other as we are joined by Taneen. He considers us one by one, bringing his great golden eye down to meet our own. He seems satisfied by what he sees and exhales a warm breath. “I am proud of all of you,” he says. “Dragons have long memories. I have watched each of you grow into the brave people I see before me today, who are willing to risk their lives to preserve their home. I am not surprised to see a single one of you here.” We all stand straighter in light of his praise and I can feel our resolve harden. We are going to stop this fire by any means necessary.

  A horn blows and we all turn to face Ade. He is with his own group and gestures to the others. My adrenaline spikes and I follow my group to pick up our supplies. There are buckets of water and some blankets for suppressing the fire, and we will be with Taneen, who will be dumping dirt on the flames from above. We also pick up shovels and axes, all the better to preserve the metaphorical line in the sand. Teams had been working hard to prevent the blaze from spreading, clearing dead branches and trees from the area between us and the blaze. What we were going to do was make sure the fire didn't cross the cleared area and try to beat it back.

  The hike to the area where we will fight the fire is not far, but with all of the buckets people are carrying, it feels longer. We start out silent, each in their own thoughts, but soon a group in front of us begins to sing. I smile, recognizing the folksy song children sing in the orchard. The music flows around us as more voices join in and soon everyone is singing about oranges and orange trees, which turns into a melody of welcome, and we cycle through pieces that bring us hope and happiness and remind us of our strength as a people. Taneen roars his approval from high above us, shining like a second sun.

  The smoke in the air is making it hard to breathe and my eyes are stinging by the time we come to an area that is less dense than the rest. This is where my people have been hard at work to make sure the fire is contained. Although I don't see the flames, I feel like I can hear them. The singing slowly dies as people break off to do their assigned tasks. Taneen lands in front of us and looks us each in the eye again. “Humans cannot fly,” he says matter-of-factly. “You will not be able to get above the smoke. Your leaders provided something to go over your mouths; you should put those on now.” We sift through the pile of blankets and find small wool rags. “Dip them in the water first,” Taneen instructs, and we do, tying them over our noses and mouths. The air feels cleaner the moment I do. “Remember,” Taneen begins, “you are looking for places where the fire is trying to jump the line. If it gets too dangerous, you are to follow the boundary until it is less so and let me know of that area. If it gets much too treacherous, head back to the village and let the others know. Am I clear?”

  We each nod and pick up our buckets again. Water sloshes and sand slushes, and for the first time I wonder if I am brave enough to do this, but a look from Taneen silences those thoughts. It's like he's reading my thoughts and feeding me strength. Single file, we take off for the edge of the trees where the sounds of fire are no longer just in my imagination.

  Crossing the open area that has taken days to create feels surreal. It is not entirely cleared of brush and trees, but a definite difference from the cover of trees I had just left. Above me, Taneen's shadow heads towards the desert edge to pick up sand to drop on the blazing fire. I see a small tendril of flames in front of me, coming to the edge of the line, searching hungrily for something to keep them going. A spark jumps to a low-hanging branch. I grab my ax and hack at it to keep the flame from taking the whole tree, pruning additional low branches once I dump some sand on the offending blaze. The fire is next to me, although the flames are low. I concentrate on trying to put those low flames out, dumping both water and sand on them, smothering them with thick blankets when I am able to. Whenever I see the fire try to leave the line, I chop or dig the area away from everything else and find ways to put the new flames out.

  Time stops functioning. Someone comes by and replaces my water buckets with new ones and I realize one of the teams must be on supplies and pumping water. After I first notice it, I am just grateful that my buckets never seem to be empty. I am aware of Taneen flying over me again and again, and am brought water to drink and food to eat, but mostly I am aware of the fire. I become used to the smoke burning my eyes and I have to repeatedly dampen the cloth tied around my face. That isn't important, though; only stopping the flames matters.

  I am covered in sweat and soot and ashes when Taneen lands next to me. I am in the process of slashing at some underbrush that is too close to where the fire is going, but it's hard to ignore the dragon when he is so close to you. “Come with me,” he says, crouching down. I am taken aback. Taneen doesn't allow people to fly with him often and I hesitate. He makes a rumbling noise deep in his chest and I realize he is laughing at me. “If I offer, it's allowed,” he says and I climb up with no further prompting.

  Taking off on Taneen is like nothing I've ever experienced. It feels like I leave my stomach behind and I gasp and cling to his neck. My eyes are forced shut by the wind and the smoke. It isn't until he tells me to open them that I do.

  “Take off your breathing protection.” Once again, I do as he asks. “I am trying to take everyone up, because too long in the smoke
is bad for humans. It is why fire has always been a dragon's weapon, especially in the Sahara.” I am hardly listening, though, staring down at what is below me. The sun is setting and all the people look like bugs, hurrying back and forth. But that is not what holds my attention.

  “We're doing it,” I say. “Taneen, the fire is so small now.” It is, too. Below me is a short line of flames, and none of it is moving past the line we put in front of it. My people fight to make sure it stays that way. “But … oh …” Behind that is destruction. Trees that had stood for years are ashes now, and the space between us and the desert feels smaller and weaker.

  Taneen makes a noise in his throat that stops my questions and begins his descent, flying a slow loop over the people. Without encouragement, I wrap the rag around my face again, and we are on the ground. The flames are almost dead in front of me and I realize with a start that this is where I had been fighting the flames just minutes ago. Why had it seemed like the fire was never ending when it was hardly there?

  “Look,” Taneen tells me as I climb down, nudging the ash with his nose. I bend down, moving ash aside as he snuffs it away and exposes a young tree. A smile lights my face and Taneen says, “It already begins regrowing. Keep working, little one, and soon this will all be over. I must help the rest of your people.” He moves a few steps into the cleared line and takes off again.

  With renewed hope, I attack the flames until the fire is the only light around me. I do not stop, though, and around me I am aware that no one else is either.

  As the night wears on, my eyes ache more and more from tiredness and smoke. I am given food and water, but quickly get back to the task, knowing I am almost done. Like before, I lose all track of time, until I become conscious of a warm glow around me.