Ruin of Dragons Page 18

  The inner door opened, and Gareth stepped into the outer laboratory area. An unassuming space, the room was large, well lit, evenly littered with a wide assortment of workstations: biological and chemical stations, computer terminals for genetic testing and sequencing, zero-pressure bays for physical sample testing, as well as a variety of long tables for specimen exam. He made his way through to the other side, where a small corridor led out and around to a set of larger specialized examination chambers, inside extra layers of biological containment protocols. There were no windows in this section, and the outer isolation door, along with most of the corridor walls, was dark armor.

  Ignoring the large RESTRICTED ACCESS warnings emblazoned across the outer entrance, Gareth took one more look down the hall to make sure no one was in sight, then tried the passcode he had acquired, hoping a denial of access wouldn't activate security protocols. He exhaled slightly as the light flashed green and the inner door hissed open, revealing a cavernous space beyond.

  He stepped inside, the door shutting behind him. The room stood in oppressive silence, all the lights and consoles dark, indicating it had not had an occupant for least a few hours. Gareth started walking inward, the motion sensors tripping the main chamber lights, revealing a massive circular space the size of a stadium, with observation galleries ringing the upper levels, workstations and equipment bays lining the perimeter, and a network of lifts and manipulator arms in the gantry space above a sunken central examination area consuming the majority of the floorspace. An expansive raised examination surface sat in the middle, surrounded by full complements of monitor stations.

  And taking up most of the examination surface, secured under a formidable array of metal bracing, was an intact dragon specimen.

  He stopped short. While it was not uncommon for specimens to be put under study, there were pairs of containment rooms just off each of the main cryo holding chambers that normally served that purpose. This chamber was obviously set up for a similar purpose, but much larger in scale. But its placement at the rear of the complex, far from the outer ring of specimen holding, was what gave Gareth pause. The room looked rarely used, and seemed purposefully out of the way, though there was conveyor access at the rear of the chamber, allowing a specimen to be brought directly to the exam surface. And the half wall surrounding the lower level of the room looked thicker and seemed to be armored, unusual for normal specimen containment.

  He stepped down into the recessed examination area, turning back to the dragon in front of him. It was a large specimen, female by the look of the horn ridges running from both brows to the back of the head, it's blue-black scales reflecting the harsh overhead light in an iridescent sheen. "Why are you here?" he asked, walking up to the creature, looking it over. It didn't seem to be damaged, and Gareth could feel from the heat radiating off the skin that it wasn't under an induced stasis – unusual for a specimen under study, especially one that was not currently being observed. He looked up to the corners of the chamber, remembering the surveillance system that was almost certainly active, and turned back to the dragon, endeavoring to hurry.

  He checked the monitor station, casting a quick eye over the statistics. The dragon's vitals were stable, and all metrics were within normal standards. Brainwave activity, however, was unusually high, and there were what looked like two separate waveforms running concurrently. Gareth frowned, looked up at the creature, and for the first time noticed the device attached to the back of the dragon's head at the base of the skull. "What are you?" He walked up to the front of the creature's massive head to get a better look at the device.

  It appeared to be a neurotransmitter, possibly a modified version of a blind unit, but it was larger, and attached to the dragon's head in several different places, with nodes snaking out to the top of the nasal cavity and down to the hollows right behind the eyes. The placement of the nodes looked very precise and not at all like something that could be attached easily during the normally active and often violent extraction process, and what Gareth had initially assumed was an upgraded blind unit now seemed much more uncertain. He pulled out his handheld and took a few scans of it, planning to study them a little more closely later. As he was examining the nodes fixed to the side of the head, the dragon's eye opened and swiveled to look directly at him.

  Gareth froze, momentarily startled, not looking away from the fiery red eye staring at him. He stepped slowly to the left, watching as the eye followed him. "You're awake," Gareth said, stepping back to the right, the eye still following him. "Why?" He cast a quick glance over the dragon's prone form. The creature wasn't struggling against the restraining braces – though it wouldn't have to try very hard; the restraint system was designed merely to keep limbs from spasming involuntarily while under stasis and would not put up much resistance against a determined specimen trying to get free.

  He frowned. Even a dragon under the influence of a blind unit was still a mostly autonomous creature, one that wouldn't sit still under restraint, but this one gave no indication that it was even aware of where it was. Gareth stepped closer, within arm's reach, the dragon continuing to watch but making no move in reaction to him.

  "It's all right, girl," Gareth said, his voice soft in an attempt to be soothing. With a slow, deliberate motion he raised his hand up and, closing his eyes, placed his fingertips against the skin of the dragon's head behind its eyes. Unlike the usual swirling red and black ambiguity he normally encountered in a dragon's neural imagery, he was instead suddenly enveloped in a brilliant wash of violet punctuated by searing white lightning. Craggy peaks were briefly illuminated in the distance, and all could be seen through thick vertical beams in a wall of windows from the vantage point of what appeared to be an upper floor of a tall building.

  Startled, Gareth took an involuntary step backward, his connection breaking. "That's not your memory," he said, his brow furrowing. "But whose is it?" He went back to the monitor station and took a closer look at the dragon's neural data. The waveforms on the screen were moving quickly, indicating rapid neural activity, and while both were wide and erratic, they didn't exactly match up. "And more importantly," he finished, "how did you get it?"

  If it had been a normal random memory, that would have been concerning enough, but the weather and topography was clearly that of an Acradian environment, which was particularly alarming. The Acradian population was sparse, with only a small handful across the entirety of the Sanctuary personnel, so the chances of one of his people coming across this particular dragon specimen were almost impossibly slim.

  Gareth checked the time. Though he had only been there a few minutes, he was becoming increasingly anxious that no one had yet shown up in the empty room. He pulled out his handheld and snapped a couple of scans of the monitor screens, then made his way back to the door. He was only a few steps away, however, when he heard the click of the lock, followed by the hiss of the outer door opening.

  He froze, chiding himself for not leaving sooner, and attempted to invent a reason for mistakenly being in a restricted area that would convince whichever tech was about to come through the door. He wasn't given the chance, however, as one of the department administrators walked in, followed by Director Greyc herself.

  The two of them stopped short as Gareth froze, standing in stupid silence and grasping for words as Greyc's expression morphed from confusion to irritation. Her administrator was the first to find his voice.

  "Doctor Lorr," he said, his voice sounding surprised. "I wasn't aware you still had access back here."

  "He doesn't," Greyc said before Gareth could respond, her voice icy.

  Gareth grimaced, nodding. "Guess this is going on my annual review," he said as he raised his hands. Greyc reached into her coat for a communicator, and Gareth realized he was out of time. With a deep breath, he took a single long stride, putting himself between the other two, and snapped his hands out to both their foreheads, pressing them backward up again
st the inner door frame.

  Gareth apologized inwardly, concentrating as he skimmed the top of both of their memories. The last few seconds would be right at the forefront of their minds and easiest to find. However, while accessing or transferring memories were relatively simple tasks, what he was attempting was the removal of a memory, which was considerably trickier, not to mention something Gareth had never actually attempted before.

  He centered on the strong sense of surprise that lit up the outermost layer of neural activity and attempted to supplant it with as much mundane tedium as he could visualize, while pulling the specific memories themselves back into himself.

  Exhaling sharply, Gareth let go and stumbled out into the corridor as a sudden rush of nausea washed over him. "That was a bad idea," he said as he steadied himself against the opposite wall, his vision suddenly lurching sideways.

  "Doctor Lorr?"

  He turned back to the door to see Greyc looking at him with a confused expression. Gareth held his breath, waiting for the inevitable accusation, but it didn't come. "Are you all right?" she asked instead.

  "I'm fine," he lied, taking his hand away from the wall as he stood up straight. "Just a bit—" He stopped as the room tilted suddenly, and he found himself leaning back against the wall, a sudden pounding behind his forehead. "Dizzy," he finished, frowning. Gareth's neural efforts seemed to have tripped a physiological response similar to a migraine.

  Greyc turned to her administrator, who was massaging his own temple and looking confused. "Help him," she said, looking irritated.

  He nodded, blinking a bit as he started toward Gareth, who held up a hand, shaking his head.

  "No, no," he protested, "I'm fine, I'm just—" Gareth stumbled, slipping to the floor. "Really embarrassed," he finished, grumbling to himself.

  "Here, let me help you up," the administrator said, taking Gareth's arm as the wizard tried to right himself. His vision swam, his nausea reasserted itself, and he found himself doubling over as he vomited onto the floor.

  "That was dignified," Gareth said, spitting the excess out and letting himself be pulled back up to a more or less standing position. He was still dizzy and leaned heavily against the administrator while trying to keep control of the rest of his stomach contents.

  Greyc pulled out her communicator. "Help get him to medical," she said to her administrator. "I'll let them know you're on the way."

  Gareth tried to wave her off. "That's not necess—"

  "Come on, sir," the administrator interrupted, clearly irritated at having to be a crutch. "It's not far." Gareth let the man guide him on, having trouble keeping his own balance steady and wondering how long this state he was in would last.

  "Were you already heading to medical?" the admin asked as they walked. "You should have just sent for transport instead of wandering the halls. It's kind of a maze back here."

  Gareth looked down at him but didn't find anything accusatory in the other man's expression. "For an upset stomach?" the wizard replied, then realized he was currently being propped up by someone else. "Well, normally I can manage…"

  The administrator shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It's a good thing we were there when you came along."

  Gareth smiled to himself. His gambit seemed to have worked, though the physiological side effects were not what he had anticipated. He made a mental note to look into that later.

  "I appreciate the help," Gareth said, glancing back down the curved hallway, expecting to find Greyc following them but seeing no one. He forced himself to wait another minute or two, just to make sure they were out of earshot. "And I'm sorry."

  "What, for this?" the admin said. "It's no trouble, I'm only—"

  "No," Gareth interrupted. "For this." He placed the tips of his middle two fingers against the administrator's forehead, and before the other man could even react, his eyes rolled up into his head and his grip around Gareth's waist released as he slumped to the floor in a heap. Gareth stepped to the side of the corridor, once again steadying himself against the wall as he tapped his communicator.

  "Lure to Castle, I think we need to leave," Gareth said, taking a deep breath and willing his vision to stabilize. He looked back at the unconscious administrator, sighing. "I'm pretty sure I just wore out our welcome."

  change of plan

  Petra and Bran stepped into the terminal room, the glass door sliding shut behind them. The room was on the outer wall of the complex, with a wide window looking out over the courtyard and gardens in front of the building and down the wide avenue that fed out into the heart of the city. The room itself was sparsely furnished, with wide work tables on either side, and three computer terminals set against the back wall under the window. Each table and terminal desk had two chairs.

  Bran sat down at the first desk and logged into the terminal. "All right, what are we looking for?" he asked.

  "Kingsguard," Petra said. "I know nothing about it. Show me."

  "Okay," Bran said, accessing the data network and doing a quick search. The first file that pulled up was a general information summary of the organization. He ran a translation, then pointed at the screen. "Here," he said. "This should get you started." He shifted sideways, giving Petra room.

  She pulled her chair up to the screen and started scrolling through the entry. The first few points were familiar, the Sanctuary network hierarchical structure, the mission of the organization—

  "Here," she said, pointing to the screen. "Harr. Where is that?"

  "I'm not sure," Bran said, scooting over to the next terminal. "I've never heard of it." As he pulled up information, Petra kept reading. "It's a sanctuary world," she said. "A dragon planet."

  "I didn't know dragons had a home world," Bran said.

  "It's apparently where the dragonhunters take them after capture."

  "Here it is," Bran said, pulling up a navigational chart. "Harr. Volcanic moon, middle of the sector. Shouldn't take us long to get there." He slid his chair back and started to get up.

  "Hold on, I need to look up one more thing," Petra said.

  "We should really get going," Bran said, glancing back at the door. "Won't take them long to notice we're here."

  Petra didn't move. "No. This is as close as I've been." She pointed to the screen. "Show me Acradia."

  "Acradia?"

  "I need to know if there's a record for Evan Ryath," Petra said, resolute.

  Bran was confused. "The wizard?"

  "No." She paused, her face tightening. "My father."

  Bran exhaled, looking from Petra to the door then back again. Petra looked expectant, nodding toward the screen, and Bran sighed.

  "Fine," he said, sitting back down. "I still think we should leave." He started entering search criteria. "What does your father have to do with any of this? I thought you were looking for a wizard."

  Petra looked down into her lap. "My father might be a wizard," she said, her voice small.

  "What?" he asked, looking over at her.

  "It might be a leap," she conceded. "But we found the dragon planet, that should lead us to the dragonhunters. I'm hoping their wizard can lead us to my father." She grimaced slightly.

  "You don't seem entirely convinced," Bran said.

  Petra shrugged. "It's just a thread. But it's all I have. I'm hoping if I pull at it long enough, it'll lead to something."

  "Maybe it will," Bran said. "Look. Here's an entry for Evan Ryath. Not much in it, though." He pulled out his handheld and keyed a link to the terminal. "I'll make a copy so we can look at it later. We really need to—"

  There was a sharp hiss as the door behind them slid open, and both spun around to see a tall council guard standing in the doorway. "This is a restricted area," he said, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon, and Petra could see that it was unlatched and free in its holster. "You'll need to come with me," he fin
ished.

  Bran stood up, holding his hands wide, while Petra played confused. "I'm sorry," she said from her chair, "I didn't know we weren't supposed to be here."

  "We were just finishing up," Bran continued, stepping around the guard toward the door. "We'll be on our way."

  The guard stopped Bran at the door with a hand on his upper arm. "I'm sorry sir," the guard persisted, his voice getting more forceful, "but I'm going to need you to come with me."

  Bran's shoulders slumped, and he turned to Petra with a resigned look on his face. "It was a good run, stork." He forced a thin smile. "Looks like this is where we get off."

  Petra exhaled, nodded, then stood up in front of the guard. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I was just trying to find some information on my father…" The guard's eyes had widened. He was tall, but Petra was taller, and as she talked, his brow creased as if trying to figure out where he had seen her before. "…and really, any information at this point is more than I had before," Petra continued, unaware.

  But Bran had noticed the guard's puzzlement and reached out with one hand to grab Petra by the arm, while activating the door with the other. When the guard didn't look away from Petra's face, Bran made a snap decision, and pulling Petra toward him as a counterbalance, shoved the guard into the room away from them with as much strength as he could muster. Caught off balance, the guard tumbled sideways, tripping over a chair while Bran leaped the opposite direction, yanking Petra out into the corridor after him.

  He slapped at the control panel, shutting the door, and the two sprinted off toward the lift.

  "This is a bad plan!" Petra shouted as they ran.

  "I know!"

  The two stumbled to a halt as the lift doors ahead of them opened and two more guards stepped off. "What now?" Petra asked, her voice panicky. Bran looked back. The circular walkway ringing the open atrium only had two corridors branching off from it. One was just past the lifts on the other side of the two guards, the other was back the way they came, close to the terminal room they had just exited. The guard there wouldn't be for long, as the locked door could be opened from the inside.