Ruin of Dragons Read online

  There were four platforms, two of them occupied by medium sized transport vessels that could not have been more different in shape and style. One was squat and beetle-shaped with four large, protruding engines in a line at the rear. The other was all curves, sleek and sharp, with bristly appendages sticking out from the main body at odd angles and an asymmetrical wing configuration. While they differed in aesthetic, they both shared a similar shiny black outer skin, a layer of the same synthetic dragonscale composite that also formed Vermithrax's outer armor.

  The four platforms had docking collars that extended up and connected with each ship's containment bay. All extraction unit ships, disparate though they may have been, were equipped with a universal set of cryo units able to be detached from their interior housing and removed by the platform's transport system. Each ship currently docked had a crew of people circling it, operating the docking collar and lifts, refueling and exchanging ship system potables, or venting the various gas and coolant waste, while the ship's teams themselves headed for the back of the bay and the entry into the interior of the station proper. Aris set Vermithrax down on the back landing pad, and after a few minutes of powering down the main ship systems and releasing the locking clamp on the exterior cryo port, they were ready to depart.

  The outer hatch opened, the steps lowered, and Aris descended to the platform, stepping out into the cool processed air of the hangar bay. At the rear of the ship the landing techs were already lifting the docking collar into place and preparing for specimen transport. Aris flashed an ID badge at the deck chief as he strode by, making his way toward the back. Voss and Mira exited the ship in time to step level with the crew of the squat bug-shaped ship, who were now even with Vermithrax after traversing the bay from the platform on the other side. Voss waved cheerfully to the other team while the bearded man in front quickened his pace to catch up with Aris.

  "Cobalt," the man greeted. "How're things?"

  "Davv," Aris nodded, not slowing his pace. "Usual."

  Keegan Davv was the pilot of the extraction ship Hornet, and one of the few people Aris had met when he joined the Sanctuary four years ago that was still around. Davv's team members had changed around him multiple times over the years, but he was still there, flying that same battered old bug with the ironic name.

  The two turned right and stepped out into the Outer Ring, the main throughway corridor that circled the orbital. The left side of the corridor was glass, and they could look down into an expansive, brightly lit holding chamber where an immense conveyor system tracked in from underneath them, through which the large cryo cylinders would soon appear, making their way from the ships in the landing bay to be deposited onto one of several staging racks that filled the length of the room. At present, just over half of the racks were occupied with active cryo units, each housing one of several hundred dormant dragon specimen awaiting introduction into the species population on the planet below.

  Davv grinned. "Heard you were supposed to be back a week ago. Is that usual?"

  Aris shrugged. "For us." He ticked off a list on his fingers. "First was a juvenile, we were done before lunch. Second was a Caym-Era bull trying to power through a set of city shields. Disorientation took him down so we didn't have to. Third was a Cerbere."

  Davv grimaced.

  Aris nodded, agreeing. "Mean," he continued. "But stupid. Fourth, unfortunately, was an early riser that decided to bolt before we even got there. That left us with an empty bay unaccounted for, so of course we were the ones that got the emergency call out to Boone."

  "Boone? What the hell is way out there?"

  "Not much," Aris said. "Just a small mining town with an angry Belphegor-Era."

  Davv whistled. "I don't think anyone's dealt with one that old before. Give you much trouble?"

  "Much. Didn't even bother trying to get away, took a bite right out of my ship and managed to throw one of my riders."

  "The elf or the dwarf?"

  Aris looked at him sideways, a piece of Mira's earlier conversation coming back to him. Davv caught the look and held up his hands. "No offense," he added quickly. "She okay?"

  Aris looked forward again. "Mira's fine." He felt suddenly uncomfortable and moved the subject away from his team. "How about you?"

  "You can keep your Belphegor, we got a twofer," Davv said, and there was no mistaking the note of pride in his voice.

  "Twins?" Aris asked, his eyes widening. Dragons had been known to travel in pairs before, but it was exceedingly rare.

  "Took up our last two bays, though. Had to call in an assist on our final."

  Aris shook his head. The job was certainly never dull. He looked back, suddenly aware the rest of his team wasn't with him. Mira and Voss trailed about ten feet behind, chatting with one of Davv's riders, an athletic woman with black sideswept hair, while Gareth brought up the rear, doing his best to ignore a small person decked out in full armor trying to get his attention. Little more than a teenager with buzz cut hair and a squinty grin on his face, the young man was having trouble keeping up with Gareth, who didn't appear to be moving as quickly yet was clearly walking much faster. Aris suppressed a grin at the odd sight as he turned back to the other pilot. "What's with the kid in armor?" he asked.

  Davv glanced back. "That's Flit, my new hook."

  "Flit?"

  "His nickname, not mine," Davv said. "And that's dragonscale armor. Not all of us can have an honest to god wizard on our team."

  "You know his name," Aris said, starting to get irritated.

  "I'm just saying," Davv continued, "you shouldn't be surprised the rest of us have to do this the old-fashioned way."

  Aris was remembering why he didn't hang around with Davv as much as he used to. "I know what the armor's for," he said. "I meant, why is he wearing it here?"

  "Oh, that," Davv grinned. "The kid's enthusiastic as hell. Says the more he gets used to wearing it, the quicker he can move in it. Which, honestly, is not a bad thing – the better he gets, the longer he'll last." Davv shook his head. "Look, you won't hear me complain. I've already gone through three hooks this year, so I'd like to keep one for a while longer, you know?"

  Aris nodded. The hook position wasn't any more or less dangerous than the other spots on the team, but there was far less margin for error. If a rider made a mistake and fell off a dragon, there were safeguards. But the hook was literally in the line of fire, and the consequences for miscalculation were far more immediate. Aris wouldn't argue that Gareth had an unfair biological advantage. But there weren't many of his kind left to go around, which meant that everyone else just had to be a bit more creative.

  Gareth, for his part, seemed to be trying not to laugh at the poor boy rattling around in his oversized suit. He simply smiled and nodded as the young man extolled the virtues of this newest set of armor with the enthusiasm of a sales pitch.

  "…it's completely gapless," Flit was saying, holding his arms out so the multiple interleaved segments at the elbows glinted in the overhead light. "It's got fifty-eight points of articulation, allowing for a full range of motion, and the nanofiber undershell is light as any other set on the market." He demonstrated by suddenly sliding to the right, spinning around and thrusting out with an imaginary staff weapon.

  Gareth raised an eyebrow, his face not betraying whatever amusement was likely underneath. "You sound like a salesman," he said. "Do you get commission?"

  "I should, right?" Flit said, getting a far-off look, then snapped back. "It's probably not as nice as yours, though."

  Gareth allowed himself a tight smile. "Oh, I don't use any," he said.

  Flit laughed, a loud bark that dropped to a soft chuckle as he waited for the punch line. The young man's smile slipped when it didn't come, and as he looked up at Gareth's impassive expression, it dropped completely. "Wait, you're not joking?"

  "No," Gareth shrugged. "I don't own a set."r />
  "Then what do you use for…? How do you…?" Flit's voice trailed off, a look of confusion on his face.

  Gareth looked down at the young man. "Thought my height would've given it away," he smiled. "I'm Acradian." He then faced forward again, lengthened his stride to catch up with Voss and Mira and left Flit to fall behind.

  Aris shook his head, turning forward again. They walked along in silence for a few minutes, and it appeared as if they had finally run out of small talk. Davv seemed to notice this.

  "You hear about Barrast?" Davv asked, breaking the silence and turning the conversation the one direction Aris didn't want it to go.

  He took a deep breath. "Unfortunately," Aris said, his voice low. He glanced up at the corridor markers, hoping he was near his exit.

  "Damn tragedy," Davv said, and Aris got the uncomfortable impression the man wasn't actually commenting on the situation so much as simply making idle conversation. "There was an extraction team in the area only a day earlier, too."

  "Yes." Aris clenched his jaw. "That was us. Though I don't really know what we could've done about it," he said, mildly surprised to hear himself echoing Gareth's thought from the previous night.

  "Not your fault, really, nobody got called in on that one," Davv said.

  "Wait," Aris said. "What do you mean?"

  "None of the extraction teams got called," Davv clarified. "Must've been an unmonitored specimen…"

  Aris turned. "Are we talking about the same thing? It wasn't a dragon that burned down half the city."

  "Gotta read between the lines," Davv said. "There was silicate everywhere and a glass coat on all the stonework still standing. That's dragonfire if I ever heard it."

  "But the city shields were up," Aris countered. "And anyway dragons don't burn that way."

  Davv raised his hands "Didn't say I could explain it," he said. "I just think it's strange. There's definitely something they're not telling us."

  Aris nodded, conceding. They reached a corridor intersect and Davv turned left to head toward the command complex in the center hub of the station. "See you, Cobalt," he said. "Keep out of trouble."

  "You know me better than that," Aris called after him, keeping to the curved corridor heading for the residency block, slowing down to join the rest of his team. Gareth stepped up beside and looked down at him, but Aris didn't say anything, lost in thought.

  "You've got your scheming face on," Gareth said. "Thought you were looking forward to some time off?"

  "Oh I am, definitely," Aris said. "Got a little trip I think I need to make."

  Gareth nodded. "Figured you might. Better count us in."

  Aris looked up at him. "I thought you said there wasn't anything we could do."

  "Yes, but I also know better than to think I can stop you from trying."

  "Point," Aris said.

  "Just keep me in the loop, all right?" Gareth said, splitting off at the next intersection. "I'll catch up with you in a little while."

  "Of course," Aris said as the others continued on their way.

  Gareth found himself in an empty stretch of corridor, the lone spot of color in a bright expanse of polished white, the cold blue lights creating a harsh clinical environment that no shadow seemed able to survive in. He passed through another section lined with wide windows, and looked down into similarly bright antiseptic areas, the first being another lengthy cryo holding bay for captured specimen. The next section consisted of a series of smaller rooms with wide white tables littered with a dizzying array of technology; chemical and biological imaging and diagnostic equipment; rows of genetic sequencers and processor towers; and finally, an expansive space with holding tanks, stacked cryo chambers and a wide operating surface that took up the center third of the large room. All were populated by a myriad of technicians in white tunics milling around their respective stations.

  Gareth reached the end of the passageway and stepped out into the Inner Ring, a smaller circular corridor that surrounded the central command complex. He took a right and followed the curve until he reached the clinical terminus, a large atrium that served as the access point to the collective of medical and scientific facilities. A wide curving desk sat inset from the back wall of the atrium with three terminals at the center, behind which stood duty officers for the three facility divisions. Gareth stepped up to the officer on the left and placed his hand on the reader at the front of the terminal.

  "Gareth Lorr to see Director Greyc," he said as the reader scanned his palm, bringing up his ID info on the screen in front of the officer, who nodded, touching a corner of the screen. "Proceed," the officer said as a door opened to the left. Gareth smiled and turned, stepping through into a short hall and making his way past several rooms to a set of double doors at the end. He keyed them open to reveal a darkened office.

  The room was sparsely furnished. A circular desk sat in the center, translucent and illuminated from within, providing a focal point for the room. A narrow tower of shelves and a single framed print occupied the right wall next to a large door. The rest of the room was almost completely surrounded by glass, the back wall frosted and lit, casting a soft glow over the room. The left was clear and a large laboratory space was visible on the other side. The table in the center of the workspace was a large 3D monitor, above which was the projection of the head of an older species of dragon. Behind the table and partially obscured by the projection stood a middle-aged woman in a pristine white uniform, her straight dark hair pulled into a loose knot behind her head, her gray eyes glinting in the reflected light of the projection in front of her. Doctor Elya Greyc looked up as Gareth entered and motioned for him to join her.

  He nodded, stepping into the laboratory, noting the sharp drop in temperature as he did. He made his way around the room and stepped up beside Greyc as she reached her hands into the projection and rotated the image of the dragon's head until it was facing him. "Your Belphegor-Era," she said.

  "That was fast," Gareth said, looking down at the miniature representation of the face he had confronted only a day prior.

  "It's being scanned as we speak," she said, her precise voice betraying little of the awe that was clearly evident on her face. "The oldest specimen on record, I wanted it processed first."

  "Naturally," he said, looking over at her. "Though I'm pretty sure she's misclassified."

  "Oh?" Greyc said, and there were notes of skepticism and challenge in her voice. "How can you tell?"

  "The Belphegor era coincided with early industrial development in most human populations in this sector, right?"

  Greyc nodded, "About eleven to twelve hundred years ago, yes."

  Gareth pointed to the floating head in the monitor space. "This one had memories going back much further. Memories of men in plate armor on horseback. It was hazy, so I couldn't make out specific heraldry, but we're definitely talking knights of the realm here, the original Kingsguard."

  "Really," Greyc said, the disbelief in her voice beginning to evaporate.

  Gareth nodded. "Maybe even older. I definitely got the sense of a different climate, warmer, maybe more tropical, but it was hard to tell. Memories get progressively less distinct the farther back they go."

  She lifted her head to face him directly. "Show me."

  Greyc's abruptness caught him off guard. Most people were uneasy with the thought of someone having direct contact with their neural functions. But this wasn't the first time Greyc had asked him to share knowledge he had gained in the field to further her studies. He took a breath, concentrated on the relevant images, and reached out with his left hand, resting his two middle fingertips lightly against Greyc's forehead. There was a sharp intake of breath as her eyes closed and her neck muscles tensed. A few silent seconds passed, and Gareth released contact. Greyc's eyes opened and her breathing returned to normal.

  He stood still for a long moment, waiting
for Greyc to respond first. Another second passed, then her eyes seemed to focus and she looked up at him once more.

  "You okay?" Gareth asked.

  She smiled. "Yes, indeed," she said, turning back to the monitor, all business again. "Always a fascinating experience. We could really use more people like you."

  Gareth smiled tightly, not really sure how to respond to that.

  "You're right, of course," she continued without pausing. "This specimen is much older than we thought. Analytics should be able to give us a more exact date range in a few minutes." She reached up to the projection with both hands, parting them quickly. The head split into two images, the outer skin layer moving with the left hand, revealing the skeletal structure underneath in the image she held with the right. "Amazing," Greyc breathed.

  She moved the image of the skeletal layer to the center of the space, enlarging it. Gareth could see immediately how unlike a conventional biological entity this specimen was. Where a normal creature's skull structure would be almost solid, with resonant cavities where the sinus canals and eye sockets would be, the skeletal structure of a dragon was far more reminiscent of old ironwork, with a crisscrossing web of fibers in varying thickness, forming a cage-like enclosure. It had the appearance of molten metal after having cooled, hard and smooth but fluid.

  "Did it give you much trouble?" Greyc asked, splitting the projection once again, revealing both the circulatory and neurological systems.

  Gareth looked over at her as she examined the imaging projection, starting to feel like he was in the way. "No more than usual," he lied. "Should I come back?"

  Greyc dropped her hands from manipulating the projection and turned to him fully. "I'm sorry," she said, a half smile forming. "Of course this can wait. You likely have a briefing to attend."

  Gareth smiled. In actuality, Aris was the one giving the mission brief to one of the operation commanders, but he didn't feel the need to correct this. Greyc gestured to the door, and the two of them walked back out and crossed the center office to the door on the opposite side. It opened, and they stepped into a small medical suite.