It's Getting Hot: Red Planet Dragons of Tajss: Short Story Page 3

  Me? Of all the survivors, me?

  Blinking rapidly, I push aside all such ridiculous thoughts. “Water,” I say at last.

  “Yes?” Rosalind prods.

  “If we find a way to increase the water supply, we can handle a majority of the problems currently facing the city,” I say, confidence returning.

  I’ve thought long and hard about a solution to the problems I spend my days observing. Rosalind doesn’t like it when someone comes to her with a problem and doesn’t also propose a solution. Another thing I learned early on under her tutelage.

  “Explain,” she says.

  My eyes dart to her left hand. The offending one that betrayed the only sign of weakness she’s ever shown. A tremor. Rosalind is only in her thirties. What would happen if she wasn’t here? No, I don’t even want to consider it. Containing Gershom without the Lady-General might as well be impossible.

  “The biggest problems we’re facing right now are food and basic, daily needs,” I say. “Those two things are at the heart of a majority of complaints.”

  “You mean besides human females mating with Zmaj males,” Rosalind says dryly, a tight smile on her face.

  “Barring that, yes,” I agree.

  Rosalind chuckles. “Relax Sarah, I’m kidding… mostly.”

  “Of course,” I say, but there’s no kidding in my mind on that subject. It is the biggest complaint if you take into account certain factions of the survivors.

  “You were saying?” she asks.

  “Right, well, yeah, so water. If we increase the flow of water we can ideally do something to help with the bath houses. The smell is becoming unbearable. Also, I visited with Calista and Jolie. Their progress is… less than we hoped.”

  “Damn,” Rosalind exhales, leaning back in her chair.

  “Yeah, they need water too,” I say. “So fixing it would solve two major issues.”

  “Okay, so, solutions?”

  “The fountain,” I say immediately.

  “Do what?” she asks.

  “The fountain,” I say, grinning. “It had to have water at one point right? I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve done a lot of poking around the city in my scavenging and one thing is clear. Water is precious. Water on Tajss is like the old movies and shows talk about gold being on Earth. Valuable, a display of wealth. That fountain had to have been a massive display of wealth and power when it was built.”

  “Makes sense,” Rosalind agrees, but she’s waiting for the rest.

  “So, it has to have a system to feed it, underneath it.”

  “Okay, so say it does, how does that solve our problem?”

  “I don’t know, yet,” I say. “But when I figure out a way into that system I’m hoping it will be a fix.”

  “Better than anything else we have, proceed,” she says. “Consult with Amara, she might have some insight.”

  It’s like I’m ten feet tall as I inhale a deep, satisfied breath. Rosalind doesn’t give praise often but her putting trust in my idea and giving it the go ahead fills me with a great pride. My smile is so wide my jaws hurt.

  “Okay,” I say, walking towards the door.

  “Sarah,” Rosalind calls.

  “Yeah?” I ask over my shoulder.

  “Stay, please.”

  “Of course.”

  Rosalind motions to the chairs in front of her desk and I take one. She leans back in hers, closes her eyes and sighs.

  “What about Gershom?” she asks, not opening them.

  All the elation I just had crashes to the ground. Anger wars with hopelessness as I work to put into words what I observed today and what I fear.

  Fear. The real problem is that. I fear something but I don’t know what. It’s what makes everything about him so hard. You don’t know what he’s doing and when something does happen, no matter how much I know it was him, no one can prove it. Like the smashing of the airlock and keeping out the Tribe was so far removed from him directly that he was never blamed.

  Always innocent, Gershom is. We have no rules against speaking your mind, unfortunately.

  Rosalind is staring at me, waiting, and I still don’t know what to say.

  “He’s up to something,” I say, filling the void. She doesn’t say anything to that, waiting to let me figure it out. “I can’t put my finger on it but yeah, he’s got a plan.”

  “What do you think it might be?”

  “I don’t know, a coup maybe?” I laugh as I say it, but the laugh falls heavy between us.

  Rosalind doesn’t even flit a smile in return. I said it flippantly but the moment I did, the idea carried weight. Too much weight for something so preposterous. How would he even do that? Why would he? What would he gain?

  “What did you see?” she asks. “Leave out nothing.”

  Biting my lower lip, I think about what I’ve observed then launch into it. Rosalind listens, questioning certain points seemingly at random. When I get up to what I saw in the dining hall today, or more accurately didn’t see, she closes her eyes and nods.

  “Okay,” she says, after a long pause.

  “Okay?” I ask, confused by her response.

  Rosalind opens her eyes and smiles but I know her well enough to catch signs of strain. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes, the corners of her mouth tremble, wanting to turn down. “Yes,” she says.

  Something moves behind her eyes and it hits me that she’s deciding how much to tell me. I sit and wait, knowing she’ll tell me what she thinks is best and not a word more. Moments tick by in silence. My nerves are on fire, tingling with the desire to know, realizing that I may not be told all.

  “He’ll move soon,” she says, breaking the silence between us.

  “Really?” I exclaim, shock letting the words slide out before I think it through.

  Rosalind nods, slow and deliberate. “Yes,” she says. “He’s planning something big. There’s a pattern to his actions and I can say with certainty that he’s building to something. It will happen soon. We need to be as ready as we can.”

  “But what? What can he possibly do?”

  “What can’t he do?” she asks.

  My shoulders slump and it’s hard to breathe. Here we are, struggling to survive, and even now this asshole is trying to grab and consolidate power. Power over what? As lazy as he is, if he were in charge we’d all starve to death in a month. The Zmaj are our best, and soon to be only, source of food but Gershom’s rhetoric would keep them from helping us. Unless he plans on turning them into some kind of slaves.

  Good luck with that. I’ve seen the Zmaj fight and I know that none of Gershom’s followers would stand a chance.

  Unless they came in force, or...

  “Do they…” I can’t bring myself to say the words. Rosalind watches, waiting for me to work it out for myself. “Surely they don’t.”

  My mind races. It can’t be, but didn’t I read a report that some of the weapons cache that was brought back from the pirates is missing? He wouldn’t. He can’t possibly have balls that big.

  “Exactly,” Rosalind says, as if she’s reading my mind. “Now, my dear Sarah, you are truly on the inside.”

  “Shit,” I exhale. “What do we do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? But we can’t! We have to… arrest him, or take the weapons back. Something. We have to do something!”

  “Arrest him with what force? On what charges? He’s done nothing that is a provable crime.”

  “It doesn’t matter, he has to be stopped! For the greater good!”

  Rosalind leans forward, placing both her hands on the desk and rising to her feet.

  “More harm has been done throughout human history in the name of ‘the greater good’. If I teach you nothing else, learn this one fact. We must always act in the best interest of basic human rights. Always, no matter what the apparent cost may be. The moment we bend the rules is the moment we lose everything.”

  “But our very survival is at stake,” I argue.<
br />
  “It always is,” she says. “Always. Maybe here, in this situation, that is clearer because the very basics of life are in short supply. It doesn’t change the underlying truths. If we bend our own moral and ethical code, then in the long run we will lose.”

  I want to argue with her. Scream, get in her face and yell until she sees reason. I’m shaking I’m so angry. Jumping to my feet I pace back and forth in front of her desk. My respect for her is too great to allow me to do anything else.

  Then it hits me. The reason I’m so angry.

  She’s right.

  We’re at a crossroads and Rosalind knows it. The future she sees, that she’s guiding us towards, is a brighter one that hinges on the core belief of Human Rights. But in her vision, it’s not just Human Rights. In her mind it’s Life Rights. The basic, fundamental rights of all life, Human or Zmaj, or any other alien race we might encounter.

  Turning a slow circle, I see the paths before me. In the one I would have chosen, we become no better than Gershom himself. Bending the rules to fit our own version of the greater good. Who decides the greater good? Me? A council? A handful of strangers in a dark, hidden room?

  No. Rosalind is right and I will follow her to the end.

  “Damn it,” I mutter.

  “I know,” Rosalind says, taking her seat again. “You see it, this is why I’ve chosen you.”

  Resuming my seat, the heaviness settling over me again as the anger fades away. How can I ever be as good as she is?

  “Why did you?” I blurt out.

  She arches a perfect brow.

  “Why did you, choose me?” I repeat.

  Rosalind smiles. “That question has been a long time coming,” she says.

  I shrug in response. I’ve thought it many times but never allowed myself to voice it.

  “Because, Sarah, you were sweet and naive.”

  My stomach tightens up like she just punched me in the gut. Naive? She chose me because I was naive? My cheeks burn hot and tears swell. “What?” I gasp, my throat closing tight.

  “Yes, I said naive,” she continues. “Don’t take it wrong though. Naive in that you see the best in people. All people. You don’t pre-judge anyone. It’s a rare trait, a quality I quite admire. Anyone who takes over this job has to have that. I deal with too many different people. I can’t have a preconceived notion about them and neither can you. We must give them the benefit of the doubt. More than that, we must grant them the ability to be more than they appear. Let them rise above. I have always found that if you give those you lead the room to be great, they rarely let you down.”

  “Oh,” I gasp as my mouth falls open, flutters dancing in my stomach.

  Rosalind smiles. “It’s your best trait.”

  Swallowing hard, my heart pounding in my chest, I nod, unable to speak. I’m struggling, caught between tears and laughter. Barely able to contain the strong emotions that grip me until I might explode.

  Rosalind waits patiently for me to regain my composure.

  “Thank you,” I say when I finally get control of myself.

  “Of course. Now Sarah, I am going to need something from you. If you don’t feel up to this task, please tell me. I won’t force you.”

  Everything else disappears as I tilt my head to one side in curiosity. She’s never prefaced any request like that before, what could it be? “Okay,” I agree, anxious to find out what it is.

  “I need you to infiltrate his camp.”

  “Today?” I ask, my voice cracking.

  “Yes, we need information. I need you to get in there and do what you do. Observe, gather information, and get back safely to me with it.”

  “Oh,” I say, my mind racing. “Okay.”

  “You’re sure?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation, my mind made up already.

  Someone pounds on the door to her apartment.

  “Enter,” Rosalind says, like she expects a visitor.

  I notice her left hand disappears under the desk.

  Heavy footsteps come down the hall along with a dragging, swish sound and I know immediately it’s a Zmaj. No human could replicate the sound of the enormous dragon-men.

  “Rosalind,” Ladon greets.

  Glancing over my shoulder, he and Sverre stand waiting.

  My heart makes a flutter in my chest and a cold sweat forms on the palms of my hands. The Zmaj have this effect on me every time. They’re so tall, strong, muscled in every place imaginable. Their scales catch the light as they walk, casting tiny rainbows. It’s breathtaking, throw in the fact that they’re always shirtless, and what’s a girl to do?

  Okay, I admit it, I’m hooked.

  All the good it does. There are no unmated Zmaj in the city. There could have been, if not for Gershom and his dickery. The Tribe is full of unmated Zmaj. Who knows, one of them might have been perfect for me. Now though, they’re all out at the epis caves, yet another source of tension.

  Somehow, it seems like we should be better than this. It’s all so petty. Arguing over territory, race, and most importantly who a person’s heart chooses. That’s what it really comes down to isn’t it? A woman’s right to choose, not just what she does with her body but with her heart. That’s what Gershom and his camp seem to hate the most.

  And I get to infiltrate them. Yay me.

  “Ladon, Sverre,” Rosalind says, motioning to the two empty chairs in front of her desk. “I thought you were both leading hunts?”

  “We were,” Ladon hisses, the edges of his scales are an angry shade of red, reflecting his mood.

  Sverre’s scales are more subdued, tans and yellows. Sverre usually has better control over his temper than Ladon.

  “You’ve returned sooner than I expected,” Rosalind observes, while also not calling attention to Ladon’s anger.

  “There is no game!” Ladon explodes, throwing his arms into the air, wings spreading as his tail swishes back and forth in sharp, slashing motions.

  Rosalind doesn’t react to his outburst. Her ability to remain calm in the face of such a threat is impressive, she barely blinks with a several hundred pound, overly muscled barbarian raging three feet away. Instead, she turns her attention to Sverre, arching an eyebrow.

  “It is not something I ever considered,” Sverre says, his tone soft and even.

  “What is?” Rosalind probes.

  “We’ve out hunted the ability of the herds to keep up.”

  “Not us, them!” Ladon hisses, his hands clenched like he’s strangling someone that I can’t see.

  Cold chills run down my back. Ladon’s anger is palpable, a pulsing force pounding against my skin like hot waves.

  “Ladon,” Sverre warns.

  Ladon turns, hissing as he does. His wings spread part way out, his tail slashes hard to the left, knocking the chair behind him flying across the room. Sverre leaps to his feet, his own hands curling into fists. The two Zmaj stand a foot apart, glaring at each other. I stumble out of my chair and step backwards, unable and unwilling to be so close to them.

  “Enough!” Rosalind yells, slamming her hands down on her desk.

  The two Zmaj break their glare to look at her. She meets their gaze, her lips pursed, face serious. Something in her face or manner breaks through, their shoulders slump, wings close, and their tails quit slashing.

  “Rosalind, I apologize,” Sverre says, going and getting the chair that Ladon knocked aside and setting it back in place.

  Ladon continues his staring contest with Rosalind until Sverre puts a hand on his shoulder. His head turns in slow motion, staring at the hand then rising to meet Sverre’s gaze. He nods and resumes the seat, offering no words of apology.

  “How bad is it?” Rosalind asks, focusing on Sverre.

  “Bad,” he says. “The herds aren’t sufficient to maintain everyone in the city. Now, with the Tribe having taken up residence nearby as well, we’ve passed the point of straining our resources.”

  Rosalind nods, steepling her
fingers under her chin.

  “I said this was a mistake when they arrived,” Ladon grouses. “It’s my city.”

  Rosalind barely darts her eyes to Ladon, otherwise ignoring his outburst. “Sarah, get on the two projects you have,” she says.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I respond, not moving.

  I want to know what we’re going to do about the hunting situation. Several heart beats pass without a word being said, then Rosalind looks at me again, arching an eyebrow. Damn it, she means now.

  “Sorry, yes Ma’am,” I say, racing for the door.

  “Now, for the hunting-” Rosalind begins as the shutting door cuts off the sound of her voice.

  First, I have to go to Gershom’s camp.

  This is gonna suck.

  3

  Evening

  I can do this. I’ll be fine. They wouldn’t hurt me, I’m human. It’s Zmaj they hate.

  The mantra runs over and over in my mind as I walk towards Gershom’s camp.

  Enemy territory.

  When did it get this bad?

  After we came to the city, it was natural for us to set up like we were on the ship. We moved into the building across the way from the Main building, creating dorm-like dwellings the same as on the ship. Married couples had their own quarters, the rest of us divided by sex into rooms of three or six. Comfort in the familiar I guess. It brought a sense of normalcy to life.

  Except Gershom.

  He was too good for a shared dorm. Or something. I don’t know, I’ve never been close to him or his ‘camp’. There were just a handful of with him at first, a few disgruntled people who were expecting a rescue. They didn’t want to take epis after Calista figured out it was addictive and if you took it once you were hooked. Unable to leave Tajss.

  Others were upset about Calista and then Jolie, Amara and Lana once more Zmaj started showing up. They’re angry that the survivors aren’t evenly matched men and women, so if the women hook up with the aliens, it leaves even less women for the men. They claim it puts the future of the human race in danger.

  But how is that right?

  We’re not breeding machines. They chant Human First but isn’t part of being human falling in love? Sharing your heart and world with the perfect man for you?