NaNoWriMo: Day 29
The penultimate chapter! I can't believe it that with this chapter, the word count just went over 60,000. This is now officially twice as long as the longest thing I had previous written. I'm not sure one chapter is going to be enough to end it all, though! I'm definitely thinking of tacking on a nice little epilogue to go along with it. :)
Prompt 29: Survivors
"Fire the grappling guns!" Dread Wing roared at the dramen slaves, followed by the hiss of the lines as they shot from Warnado toward the derelict Airlandis, partially submerged in the Warp Winds. Dread Wing had no intention of surrendering the capital of his new empire to the accursed winds and scavengers of Old Earth. No, the prize was his for the taking, and he would have it no matter the cost.
Winches groaned as the slaves tightened up the slack on the lines, and slowly, ever so slowly the golden dome broke through and emerged from the clouds. Dread Wing growled at the damage evident on some of the towers surrounding the central dome. Several were missing entirely, having been snapped off by the brutal force of the winds.
"Fryte!" Dread Wing yelled, as his lieutenant came scuttling into view. "Supervise the remainder of this exercise, and kill any of the slaves who falter. As soon as the city is out of the Warp Winds, alert me immediately - I must be the first to set foot in my new seat of power."
Fryte bowed and groveled, practically kissing Dread Wing's boots. He was trying any way to curry favor with the Lord of Warnado after somehow managing to let all of the Dragon Flyz slip through his scaly fingers. Dread Wing was also furious that somehow Gangryn had managed to not only get himself killed, but also be the likely cause of the city's fall into the Warp Winds. But what angered Dread Wing most was the fact that nobody under his command understood technology the way Gangryn had. The spindly inventor had been the source of many of Dread Wing's greatest schemes, and Dread knew it would be next to impossible to replace him. And by that same token, repairing the city to its glorious grandeur could prove too great a challenge.
Dread Wing strode back through the hallways of Warnado toward his throne room. He needed to think. Without Airlandis ready for habitation, he would have to stave off Vidak and Kreigo's claims for much longer. What he needed was a new target to turn their energy toward. The humans had escaped in their steel wings for now, but to where? It was necessary that he find out. Curse Nocturna for abandoning him! This would have been a perfect mission for the wily, blue-skinned female. It would require a delicate hand and no small amount of cunning - something he knew Fryte lacked in abundance. No, he could not send his last lieutenant on this quest.
Dread Wing sat in his great amber throne, contemplating the question for a very long time. His reverie was interrupted, however, when the call came through from Fryte. "We have pulled up the city, my lord!" the mutant crowed, obviously pleased with himself.
Putting aside his concerns, Dread Wing grinned. "Blackheart and I shall be there momentarily, Fryte. Ready your dragon and a selection of other warriors." Dread Wing spread his wings and took off, calling mentally to Blackheart. They met in the air above Warnado, the great red dragon blowing a jet of flame from his mouth to greet his master. Dread Wing alighted on the saddle, scratching the beast's neck in a gesture of true affection. "Onward, Blackheart!" Dread crowed. "Today we claim our birthright!"
*****
Orak groaned as he woke up. His head was pounding, his entire existence felt made of nothing but pain, and the master technician really wished he had a glass of scotch right then and there.
Picking himself up and brushing the dust from his jacket, Orak peered down the empty access tube he had been in. The last thing he remembered, he had gotten his crew safely to their escape vehicles before turning back toward the reactor chamber. By dragondom, he wasn’t going to let Gangryn get ahold of that technology without a fight!
Except that Orak had never gotten his chance. The city had experienced the worst airquake Orak had ever felt, and then world had turned end over end. Orak knew what that meant: at least some of the turbines had gone out during the battle, pitching the city about like a kite in the wind. But Orak could still feel the gentle hum of the turbines beneath his feet, which meat at least some of them were still operational.
Clasping his aching head, Orak started back on his way toward his precious amber reactors. Debris littered the maintenance access tube, slowing Orak’s progress. When he finally reached the reactor room, the master technician employed a few of the more colorful expletives in his vocabulary.
The main reactors were fried. Literally, it looked like an explosion had gone off right next to them. Cursing and muttering to himself, Orak took a closer look at the half-melted plasteel that used to be his reactor. Well, at least the secondary reactors managed to avoid the feedback loop and were able to stay online. Probably the only reason we’re not sitting in some lava pool right now.
Orak opened a vox channel to Skywatch. “We’ve got a problem down here,” he grumbled into the mic. Except that his transmission was met with nothing but static. “Damn airheads,” he muttered. “I know there’s a battle going on, but you think they might like to know if we’ll be able to stay aloft. Computer,” he said, addressing the verbal command protocol built into Airlandis’ systems, “route me through to whatever is the new command center. Priority Alpha.”
The computer attempted all possible locations including the Council Chamber and Dragonator Command, but there didn’t appear to be anyone at those locations. Orak was beginning to get worried. “Computer…are there any life signs aboard Airlandis other than me?” Orak asked.
“Affirmative,” the eloquent voice of the computer replied. “One life sign aboard the city, very faint.”
Well, it looked like Orak was one soul away from being all alone on an abandoned ship. “Computer, locate the life sign and give me directions.” When Orak had finally found a data pad that wasn’t destined for the scrap heap, he downloaded the directions and grabbed the emergency med kit from underneath his desk, glad that Miriam had convinced him to keep one on hand ages ago.
As he walked the golden halls of Airlandis, Orak was left speechless at the damage. The smooth golden walls were cracked, and debris littered the floor. Sometimes he had to take alternate routes because hallways were completely blocked.
Finally, after passing through the dome (which looked damn strange sans biospheres floating around in there), Orak pulled open the door to the dragon dock. The life sign was somewhere in here.
“Anybody here?” Orak called out. He heard a faint moan from one of the pens, and ran toward it. What he found there was heartbreaking. “Oh, kid,” he murmured.
Apex was a mess, her body covered in bruises and lacerations, her leg twisted at an odd angle. Blood flecked her lips, and her breathing was shallow and labored. “Can you hear me, Apex?” Orak asked, gently squeezing her shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered open. “O…rak,” she whispered. “S…sorry about your reactor,” she said with a cough, a trickle of blood running down the side of her mouth.
“Don’t you worry about that, kid,” Orak replied. He pulled out the contents of the med kit, and grabbed the analgesic, and used the jet-injector to deliver a dose. “We’ve got to get you to a medical capsule.” He was no physician, but Orak knew that if Apex didn’t get help, and soon, he would lose her.
Apex slowly raised her arm, and pointed at a storage room. “One…in there…for emergencies…”
Orak nodded. He ran over to the storage room and pressed the open button, only to be greeted with a dead locking mechanism. Cursing, Orak tore the panel off the wall and wired the door open. Inside, along with tons of overturned supply containers, sat a medical capsule. Orak ran a quick systems diagnostic, breathing a sigh of relief that it had a self-contained power unit that didn’t depend on getting power from the main generators.
Getting back to Apex, he gingerly loaded her onto a hovercart for the short trip to the capsule. Once she got there, he helped Apex inside. “You’ll be all right, kiddo,” Orak said, before closing the glass and allowing the sterilization protocols to take over. The glass frosted over, obscuring Apex’s form inside.
“Oh, I wouldn’t make promises you are unable to keep, old man,” Orak heard a deadly voice say from behind him. Turning around, the master technician found a plasma cannon pointed right at his face. And the hand that held the weapon belonged to none other than Dread Wing standing at head of a squadron of Dark Dramen.
“What do you want, monster?” Orak spat, crossing his arms.
Dread Wing raised a scaly eye ridge in apparent interest. “Is that any way to refer to the new Lord of Airlandis?”
Orak barked a laugh, past the point of caring. “Lord of a dead city? Have fun with that.”
Dread Wing growled. “Oh, I intend to have much more than fun - I intend to use this city to wipe out the last humans and establish my new empire. And you are going to help me.”
“Like hell I’d help you, Dread!” Orak yelled, pushing a finger into the mutant demon’s chest. “Get your flunky Gangryn to do your dirty work!”
Dread Wing heaved a sigh before removing Orak’s digit. “Gangryn unfortunately vaporized himself along with your reactor. Therefore I shall make you an offer, old man. You repair the amber reactors, and I shall not immediately kill your friend currently in the capsule.” For emphasis, Dread Wing shot the ground next to Orak, leaving a smoking, melted hole in the plasteel.
Orak realized that Dread Wing didn’t know that it was Apex inside. If he did, not even repairing the reactors would compare to his desire to off one of his greatest enemies. Orak would have to buy time until the capsule had healed Apex sufficiently for them to escape together. Sighing at being put into this position, Orak looked up at Dread Wing’s triumphant face. “All right monster, but I swear if you or any of your flunkies so much as touch that capsule, I’ll activate the self-destruct and blow us all to hell.”
Orak got perverse pleasure from the irritated look that crossed Dread Wing’s face.
*****
Summit slammed his fist on the table, uncaring that he was visibly upset and furious with the Council. “My family doesn’t fall in the column of ‘acceptable losses.’ If not for everything they did, we wouldn’t be having this discussion!” he spat at the Council member who had criticized his plan to lead a search party to find Aaron, Z’neth, Peak, Nora, Nocturna, Cifex, Apex, and Orak.
“Look at this logically, Summit,” Joshua interjected, trying to lower the tone this discussion had bred. “All our scouts report that the Skywatch Tower has been completely blown away. The chance that they survived is almost infinitesimal.”
Iranda spoke up, her voice shaking. “Is that what you said after I disappeared too, Joshua? Am I not living proof to never give up looking?”
Joshua sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that your family has done many great services to this community, but we simply do not have the resources to commit right now. Our society lies on the precipice of collapse at this very moment.”
As the Council members nodded one after another around the table, Summit gave them a dark look. “If that is how you feel, fine,” Summit said. “But as the ranking Dragonator Commander, in light of recent events I do not share my father’s esteemed opinion of this Council, and am therefore doing what should have been done from the beginning of this conflict - declaring martial command of the dragonators. As of this moment, we are no longer under the purview of the Council.”
Gasps went around the room. “You can’t be serious!” one of the Council members said. “We’ll see you court-martialed for this!” another sputtered.
“Think carefully on this action, Summit,” Joshua warned, giving him a steely look. “I know we have had our…differences in the past, but think what Z’neth would do. If this motion goes through, when ultimate command of the dragonators returns to the Council, you will be stripped of your wings for good.”
Summit simply gave Joshua a wicked grin and shrugged. “I’m sure that neither my brother nor my father would leave me on Old Earth to die, if that’s what you mean, Joshua. Now is not the time to play politics.”
“And the leaders of Dragonator Two and Three?” a Council member asked. “What have Zarkan and Olin to say on this subject?”
“They are unaware. Any punitive measures you wish to inflict will be reserved solely for me,” Summit answered. “Olin will be designated as the Dragonator Corps representation on the Council until such a time as father is recovered.”
“And if you are declaring yourselves a separate entity, why should any of you sit on this Council?” Joshua asked.
“Because, for once, give the dragonators the respect they deserve,” Summit shot back. “We took plenty of losses during the battle before you sounded the D4 Alert. Had you heeded our advice and evacuated the city immediately, many more lives would have been spared. Chew on that for a while.”
With a turn of his heel, Summit strode from the room. He felt bad leaving his mother there as representative of the University, but Summit knew if he stayed in that room another moment he was liable to punch someone in the face.
*****
Nora saw shapes, images, colors fluttering before her eyes. She heard voices, indistinct and ethereal, that seemed to bounce around her skull. Her whole being seemed to be suffused with warmth that came from everywhere and nowhere. And Nora felt incredibly at peace, more so than she had ever felt in her whole lifetime.
Child, it is time to awaken. Your companions are most concerned about you, one of the voices in her head said. Each word was punctuated by pulses of light.
With regret, Nora pulled herself from the peaceful space at the center of her mind, and back to the waking world. Her eyes opened with difficulty, not easily adjusting to the light in the room. When her eyes had finally focused, Nora saw she was in a simple white room. Sunlight filtered in through a window.
In an instant, the terrifying drop through the Warp Winds came back to her. The Skywatch tower had plunged through the squalls and gales, almost certainly carrying them to their deaths. There was no way out of their cylindrical tomb. Nora remembered clasping Peak’s hand before a particularly violet gust had knocked her against a console, and everything had gone black.
Was she back on Airlandis? Nora didn’t remember any rooms like this in the infirmary (and she had been there enough times to become quite familiar with it). A light knock sounded at the door before it cracked open and a man Nora didn’t recognize stepped through.
He was tall, with short grey hair that was going white. He wore a simple white robe and looked to be in excellent health for a man his age aside from the gnarled wooden cane he used to support his right leg.
“Who are you? Where am I?” Nora asked. “Where are my companions?”
Laughter reverberated in her mind. So many questions so quickly after waking! One at a time, child! When you are as aged as I, you will learn the value of slowing down, I think.
“You…you’re telepathic?” Nora asked.
The old man gestured to the bed with his cane, and Nora scooted over, fairly certain she could outrun him if anything went wrong. He settled himself on the edge of the bed before giving her a wry smile.
I am a mind-speaker like all our people. And though you are human, you are not? He seemed genuinely surprised by this.
Nora shook her head. “No, it is a rare gift where I come from,” Nora admitted, somehow feeling she could trust this man. “But please, tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded.
My name is Beltran. You and five others descended from the sky in a flaming sword, and would have surely perished had we not suspended it and gotten you all out.
Nora was shocked. “Your people stopped the tower from free fall? How did you accomplish that?”
Beltran smiled and tapped the side of his head. We are not only mind-speakers, but mind-movers as well.
Telepathic and telekinetic, then. With enough power to stop a piece of flaming wreckage spit out by the Warp Winds. Whoever these people were, Nora was absolutely certain she didn’t want to get on their bad side. “Are my companions safe as well?” she asked, worried about them.
Oh yes. We thought for certain the metal man was dead at first - no heartbeat! Beltran added with a chuckle. And the blue woman was most unreceptive to our help. She stood guard over you all like a mother dragon!
Nora let out a sigh of relief. “Final question, then - where are we?”
Let me show you, child. Beltran took her by the hand and lead her from the room, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. They passed several others in white robes as they walked down the hallway, but Nora was struck by how silent everything was.
“Does no one speak here?” Nora asked, hoping she wasn’t being rude.
Beltran simply looked at her. When you can speak mind to mind, heart to heart, words somehow seem like a poor substitute. The hallway they were strolling ended in an open, sun-filled doorway. Beltran motioned, and Nora stepped through. What she saw took her breath away.
They were in a deep valley with steep cliffs on every side. The air was cool and sharp, but the most amazing thing to Nora was the green grass that seemed to carpet the whole valley. At the far end, a waterfall cascaded down the side of one of the cliffs, forming a large pool that fed a stream. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as Nora wandered out on the balcony to see more clearly. Small buildings dotted the valley, and from somewhere Nora could hear the laughter of children and the barking of a dog.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, unwilling to turn away from the magnificent sight, though tears began streaming down her face. After all this time, they had found a pocket of humanity still flourishing. “How is this possible? Have humans truly made a life for themselves here on Old Earth?”
Beltran stood beside her and offered a handkerchief for Nora to dry her eyes. When she had composed herself, Nora looked down at him in wonder.
In truth, child, I am curious if humans have been living among the clouds for a long time. Beltran looked at Nora, a sheepish look crossing his face. Forgive me, but your dreams of the golden city and dragons were quite vivid, Nora.
At that instant, Nora heard the sound of exo-wings, and looked up to see Peak flying toward her, his flaxen hair streaming behind him. “Nora, you’re awake!” he cried, landing next to her and sweeping Nora into a deep kiss. “I was so worried about you,” he said, holding her close.
Soon, they were joined by Z’neth, Nocturna, Aaron, and Cifex. With a start, Nora realized that Aaron was walking again. “Aaron…how is this possible?” she asked her commander.
“Psychic healing, I think,” Aaron answered. “I’m still adjusting to it myself - you can imagine my surprise at waking up and feeling my legs for the first time in a decade!”
Beltran motioned for food to be brought onto the veranda, and soon Nora was eating delicious warm bread, cheese, and fruit. “Is this some kind of dream? Are we dead?” she asked.
Z’neth laughed outright, a sight Nora had never seen before. “No, Nora, we’re not dead, and this isn’t a dream. At least I very much hope it isn’t. What I do think is that we’ve stumbled upon the Oasis mentioned by Captain Bristol in the final logs from the Space Station Galileo. Possibly humanity’s last outpost on the surface of Old Earth.”
Prompt 29: Survivors
"Fire the grappling guns!" Dread Wing roared at the dramen slaves, followed by the hiss of the lines as they shot from Warnado toward the derelict Airlandis, partially submerged in the Warp Winds. Dread Wing had no intention of surrendering the capital of his new empire to the accursed winds and scavengers of Old Earth. No, the prize was his for the taking, and he would have it no matter the cost.
Winches groaned as the slaves tightened up the slack on the lines, and slowly, ever so slowly the golden dome broke through and emerged from the clouds. Dread Wing growled at the damage evident on some of the towers surrounding the central dome. Several were missing entirely, having been snapped off by the brutal force of the winds.
"Fryte!" Dread Wing yelled, as his lieutenant came scuttling into view. "Supervise the remainder of this exercise, and kill any of the slaves who falter. As soon as the city is out of the Warp Winds, alert me immediately - I must be the first to set foot in my new seat of power."
Fryte bowed and groveled, practically kissing Dread Wing's boots. He was trying any way to curry favor with the Lord of Warnado after somehow managing to let all of the Dragon Flyz slip through his scaly fingers. Dread Wing was also furious that somehow Gangryn had managed to not only get himself killed, but also be the likely cause of the city's fall into the Warp Winds. But what angered Dread Wing most was the fact that nobody under his command understood technology the way Gangryn had. The spindly inventor had been the source of many of Dread Wing's greatest schemes, and Dread knew it would be next to impossible to replace him. And by that same token, repairing the city to its glorious grandeur could prove too great a challenge.
Dread Wing strode back through the hallways of Warnado toward his throne room. He needed to think. Without Airlandis ready for habitation, he would have to stave off Vidak and Kreigo's claims for much longer. What he needed was a new target to turn their energy toward. The humans had escaped in their steel wings for now, but to where? It was necessary that he find out. Curse Nocturna for abandoning him! This would have been a perfect mission for the wily, blue-skinned female. It would require a delicate hand and no small amount of cunning - something he knew Fryte lacked in abundance. No, he could not send his last lieutenant on this quest.
Dread Wing sat in his great amber throne, contemplating the question for a very long time. His reverie was interrupted, however, when the call came through from Fryte. "We have pulled up the city, my lord!" the mutant crowed, obviously pleased with himself.
Putting aside his concerns, Dread Wing grinned. "Blackheart and I shall be there momentarily, Fryte. Ready your dragon and a selection of other warriors." Dread Wing spread his wings and took off, calling mentally to Blackheart. They met in the air above Warnado, the great red dragon blowing a jet of flame from his mouth to greet his master. Dread Wing alighted on the saddle, scratching the beast's neck in a gesture of true affection. "Onward, Blackheart!" Dread crowed. "Today we claim our birthright!"
*****
Orak groaned as he woke up. His head was pounding, his entire existence felt made of nothing but pain, and the master technician really wished he had a glass of scotch right then and there.
Picking himself up and brushing the dust from his jacket, Orak peered down the empty access tube he had been in. The last thing he remembered, he had gotten his crew safely to their escape vehicles before turning back toward the reactor chamber. By dragondom, he wasn’t going to let Gangryn get ahold of that technology without a fight!
Except that Orak had never gotten his chance. The city had experienced the worst airquake Orak had ever felt, and then world had turned end over end. Orak knew what that meant: at least some of the turbines had gone out during the battle, pitching the city about like a kite in the wind. But Orak could still feel the gentle hum of the turbines beneath his feet, which meat at least some of them were still operational.
Clasping his aching head, Orak started back on his way toward his precious amber reactors. Debris littered the maintenance access tube, slowing Orak’s progress. When he finally reached the reactor room, the master technician employed a few of the more colorful expletives in his vocabulary.
The main reactors were fried. Literally, it looked like an explosion had gone off right next to them. Cursing and muttering to himself, Orak took a closer look at the half-melted plasteel that used to be his reactor. Well, at least the secondary reactors managed to avoid the feedback loop and were able to stay online. Probably the only reason we’re not sitting in some lava pool right now.
Orak opened a vox channel to Skywatch. “We’ve got a problem down here,” he grumbled into the mic. Except that his transmission was met with nothing but static. “Damn airheads,” he muttered. “I know there’s a battle going on, but you think they might like to know if we’ll be able to stay aloft. Computer,” he said, addressing the verbal command protocol built into Airlandis’ systems, “route me through to whatever is the new command center. Priority Alpha.”
The computer attempted all possible locations including the Council Chamber and Dragonator Command, but there didn’t appear to be anyone at those locations. Orak was beginning to get worried. “Computer…are there any life signs aboard Airlandis other than me?” Orak asked.
“Affirmative,” the eloquent voice of the computer replied. “One life sign aboard the city, very faint.”
Well, it looked like Orak was one soul away from being all alone on an abandoned ship. “Computer, locate the life sign and give me directions.” When Orak had finally found a data pad that wasn’t destined for the scrap heap, he downloaded the directions and grabbed the emergency med kit from underneath his desk, glad that Miriam had convinced him to keep one on hand ages ago.
As he walked the golden halls of Airlandis, Orak was left speechless at the damage. The smooth golden walls were cracked, and debris littered the floor. Sometimes he had to take alternate routes because hallways were completely blocked.
Finally, after passing through the dome (which looked damn strange sans biospheres floating around in there), Orak pulled open the door to the dragon dock. The life sign was somewhere in here.
“Anybody here?” Orak called out. He heard a faint moan from one of the pens, and ran toward it. What he found there was heartbreaking. “Oh, kid,” he murmured.
Apex was a mess, her body covered in bruises and lacerations, her leg twisted at an odd angle. Blood flecked her lips, and her breathing was shallow and labored. “Can you hear me, Apex?” Orak asked, gently squeezing her shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered open. “O…rak,” she whispered. “S…sorry about your reactor,” she said with a cough, a trickle of blood running down the side of her mouth.
“Don’t you worry about that, kid,” Orak replied. He pulled out the contents of the med kit, and grabbed the analgesic, and used the jet-injector to deliver a dose. “We’ve got to get you to a medical capsule.” He was no physician, but Orak knew that if Apex didn’t get help, and soon, he would lose her.
Apex slowly raised her arm, and pointed at a storage room. “One…in there…for emergencies…”
Orak nodded. He ran over to the storage room and pressed the open button, only to be greeted with a dead locking mechanism. Cursing, Orak tore the panel off the wall and wired the door open. Inside, along with tons of overturned supply containers, sat a medical capsule. Orak ran a quick systems diagnostic, breathing a sigh of relief that it had a self-contained power unit that didn’t depend on getting power from the main generators.
Getting back to Apex, he gingerly loaded her onto a hovercart for the short trip to the capsule. Once she got there, he helped Apex inside. “You’ll be all right, kiddo,” Orak said, before closing the glass and allowing the sterilization protocols to take over. The glass frosted over, obscuring Apex’s form inside.
“Oh, I wouldn’t make promises you are unable to keep, old man,” Orak heard a deadly voice say from behind him. Turning around, the master technician found a plasma cannon pointed right at his face. And the hand that held the weapon belonged to none other than Dread Wing standing at head of a squadron of Dark Dramen.
“What do you want, monster?” Orak spat, crossing his arms.
Dread Wing raised a scaly eye ridge in apparent interest. “Is that any way to refer to the new Lord of Airlandis?”
Orak barked a laugh, past the point of caring. “Lord of a dead city? Have fun with that.”
Dread Wing growled. “Oh, I intend to have much more than fun - I intend to use this city to wipe out the last humans and establish my new empire. And you are going to help me.”
“Like hell I’d help you, Dread!” Orak yelled, pushing a finger into the mutant demon’s chest. “Get your flunky Gangryn to do your dirty work!”
Dread Wing heaved a sigh before removing Orak’s digit. “Gangryn unfortunately vaporized himself along with your reactor. Therefore I shall make you an offer, old man. You repair the amber reactors, and I shall not immediately kill your friend currently in the capsule.” For emphasis, Dread Wing shot the ground next to Orak, leaving a smoking, melted hole in the plasteel.
Orak realized that Dread Wing didn’t know that it was Apex inside. If he did, not even repairing the reactors would compare to his desire to off one of his greatest enemies. Orak would have to buy time until the capsule had healed Apex sufficiently for them to escape together. Sighing at being put into this position, Orak looked up at Dread Wing’s triumphant face. “All right monster, but I swear if you or any of your flunkies so much as touch that capsule, I’ll activate the self-destruct and blow us all to hell.”
Orak got perverse pleasure from the irritated look that crossed Dread Wing’s face.
*****
Summit slammed his fist on the table, uncaring that he was visibly upset and furious with the Council. “My family doesn’t fall in the column of ‘acceptable losses.’ If not for everything they did, we wouldn’t be having this discussion!” he spat at the Council member who had criticized his plan to lead a search party to find Aaron, Z’neth, Peak, Nora, Nocturna, Cifex, Apex, and Orak.
“Look at this logically, Summit,” Joshua interjected, trying to lower the tone this discussion had bred. “All our scouts report that the Skywatch Tower has been completely blown away. The chance that they survived is almost infinitesimal.”
Iranda spoke up, her voice shaking. “Is that what you said after I disappeared too, Joshua? Am I not living proof to never give up looking?”
Joshua sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that your family has done many great services to this community, but we simply do not have the resources to commit right now. Our society lies on the precipice of collapse at this very moment.”
As the Council members nodded one after another around the table, Summit gave them a dark look. “If that is how you feel, fine,” Summit said. “But as the ranking Dragonator Commander, in light of recent events I do not share my father’s esteemed opinion of this Council, and am therefore doing what should have been done from the beginning of this conflict - declaring martial command of the dragonators. As of this moment, we are no longer under the purview of the Council.”
Gasps went around the room. “You can’t be serious!” one of the Council members said. “We’ll see you court-martialed for this!” another sputtered.
“Think carefully on this action, Summit,” Joshua warned, giving him a steely look. “I know we have had our…differences in the past, but think what Z’neth would do. If this motion goes through, when ultimate command of the dragonators returns to the Council, you will be stripped of your wings for good.”
Summit simply gave Joshua a wicked grin and shrugged. “I’m sure that neither my brother nor my father would leave me on Old Earth to die, if that’s what you mean, Joshua. Now is not the time to play politics.”
“And the leaders of Dragonator Two and Three?” a Council member asked. “What have Zarkan and Olin to say on this subject?”
“They are unaware. Any punitive measures you wish to inflict will be reserved solely for me,” Summit answered. “Olin will be designated as the Dragonator Corps representation on the Council until such a time as father is recovered.”
“And if you are declaring yourselves a separate entity, why should any of you sit on this Council?” Joshua asked.
“Because, for once, give the dragonators the respect they deserve,” Summit shot back. “We took plenty of losses during the battle before you sounded the D4 Alert. Had you heeded our advice and evacuated the city immediately, many more lives would have been spared. Chew on that for a while.”
With a turn of his heel, Summit strode from the room. He felt bad leaving his mother there as representative of the University, but Summit knew if he stayed in that room another moment he was liable to punch someone in the face.
*****
Nora saw shapes, images, colors fluttering before her eyes. She heard voices, indistinct and ethereal, that seemed to bounce around her skull. Her whole being seemed to be suffused with warmth that came from everywhere and nowhere. And Nora felt incredibly at peace, more so than she had ever felt in her whole lifetime.
Child, it is time to awaken. Your companions are most concerned about you, one of the voices in her head said. Each word was punctuated by pulses of light.
With regret, Nora pulled herself from the peaceful space at the center of her mind, and back to the waking world. Her eyes opened with difficulty, not easily adjusting to the light in the room. When her eyes had finally focused, Nora saw she was in a simple white room. Sunlight filtered in through a window.
In an instant, the terrifying drop through the Warp Winds came back to her. The Skywatch tower had plunged through the squalls and gales, almost certainly carrying them to their deaths. There was no way out of their cylindrical tomb. Nora remembered clasping Peak’s hand before a particularly violet gust had knocked her against a console, and everything had gone black.
Was she back on Airlandis? Nora didn’t remember any rooms like this in the infirmary (and she had been there enough times to become quite familiar with it). A light knock sounded at the door before it cracked open and a man Nora didn’t recognize stepped through.
He was tall, with short grey hair that was going white. He wore a simple white robe and looked to be in excellent health for a man his age aside from the gnarled wooden cane he used to support his right leg.
“Who are you? Where am I?” Nora asked. “Where are my companions?”
Laughter reverberated in her mind. So many questions so quickly after waking! One at a time, child! When you are as aged as I, you will learn the value of slowing down, I think.
“You…you’re telepathic?” Nora asked.
The old man gestured to the bed with his cane, and Nora scooted over, fairly certain she could outrun him if anything went wrong. He settled himself on the edge of the bed before giving her a wry smile.
I am a mind-speaker like all our people. And though you are human, you are not? He seemed genuinely surprised by this.
Nora shook her head. “No, it is a rare gift where I come from,” Nora admitted, somehow feeling she could trust this man. “But please, tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded.
My name is Beltran. You and five others descended from the sky in a flaming sword, and would have surely perished had we not suspended it and gotten you all out.
Nora was shocked. “Your people stopped the tower from free fall? How did you accomplish that?”
Beltran smiled and tapped the side of his head. We are not only mind-speakers, but mind-movers as well.
Telepathic and telekinetic, then. With enough power to stop a piece of flaming wreckage spit out by the Warp Winds. Whoever these people were, Nora was absolutely certain she didn’t want to get on their bad side. “Are my companions safe as well?” she asked, worried about them.
Oh yes. We thought for certain the metal man was dead at first - no heartbeat! Beltran added with a chuckle. And the blue woman was most unreceptive to our help. She stood guard over you all like a mother dragon!
Nora let out a sigh of relief. “Final question, then - where are we?”
Let me show you, child. Beltran took her by the hand and lead her from the room, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. They passed several others in white robes as they walked down the hallway, but Nora was struck by how silent everything was.
“Does no one speak here?” Nora asked, hoping she wasn’t being rude.
Beltran simply looked at her. When you can speak mind to mind, heart to heart, words somehow seem like a poor substitute. The hallway they were strolling ended in an open, sun-filled doorway. Beltran motioned, and Nora stepped through. What she saw took her breath away.
They were in a deep valley with steep cliffs on every side. The air was cool and sharp, but the most amazing thing to Nora was the green grass that seemed to carpet the whole valley. At the far end, a waterfall cascaded down the side of one of the cliffs, forming a large pool that fed a stream. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as Nora wandered out on the balcony to see more clearly. Small buildings dotted the valley, and from somewhere Nora could hear the laughter of children and the barking of a dog.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, unwilling to turn away from the magnificent sight, though tears began streaming down her face. After all this time, they had found a pocket of humanity still flourishing. “How is this possible? Have humans truly made a life for themselves here on Old Earth?”
Beltran stood beside her and offered a handkerchief for Nora to dry her eyes. When she had composed herself, Nora looked down at him in wonder.
In truth, child, I am curious if humans have been living among the clouds for a long time. Beltran looked at Nora, a sheepish look crossing his face. Forgive me, but your dreams of the golden city and dragons were quite vivid, Nora.
At that instant, Nora heard the sound of exo-wings, and looked up to see Peak flying toward her, his flaxen hair streaming behind him. “Nora, you’re awake!” he cried, landing next to her and sweeping Nora into a deep kiss. “I was so worried about you,” he said, holding her close.
Soon, they were joined by Z’neth, Nocturna, Aaron, and Cifex. With a start, Nora realized that Aaron was walking again. “Aaron…how is this possible?” she asked her commander.
“Psychic healing, I think,” Aaron answered. “I’m still adjusting to it myself - you can imagine my surprise at waking up and feeling my legs for the first time in a decade!”
Beltran motioned for food to be brought onto the veranda, and soon Nora was eating delicious warm bread, cheese, and fruit. “Is this some kind of dream? Are we dead?” she asked.
Z’neth laughed outright, a sight Nora had never seen before. “No, Nora, we’re not dead, and this isn’t a dream. At least I very much hope it isn’t. What I do think is that we’ve stumbled upon the Oasis mentioned by Captain Bristol in the final logs from the Space Station Galileo. Possibly humanity’s last outpost on the surface of Old Earth.”