by Lindsay Buroker
“ONLY A SUICIDAL LUNATIC WOULD TRY TO LAND DOWN THERE.” McCall Richter fidgeted with her bracelet while wondering if familial loyalty required her to risk her ship.
Wasn’t it enough that she’d flown all the way out to a penal moon so inhospitable that it had the nickname Dragons? Thanks to all the cartographers who’d thought it amusing to write “Here Be Dragons” under it on their maps.
“I have recently downloaded an upgrade to my piloting protocol,” Scipio, her android pilot/bodyguard/business partner, said.
“One that allows you to assume the role of a suicidal lunatic?”
Scipio looked over at her, his expression unchanging, though his silver eyes conveyed remarkable blandness. “One that gives me the ability to land your ship in inhospitable conditions. As a sturdy DuraSky 3636 android, the likelihood of my survival is high even in the event of a crash.”
“Therefore, you’re not being suicidal.”
“Correct.”
“I could be suicidal for flying with you.”
“Correct.”
“Glad we got that cleared up.”
McCall eyed the jungle below them, the cockpit’s wraparound holographic display giving them almost a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. A thick orange, green, and pink canopy obscured the terrain below. Maps promised canyons, rivers, craters, and entire lakes hidden from aerial view. In places, the Star Surfer’s sensors could verify that. In other places, the sheer mass of vegetation thwarted them. The only certainty was that the jungle was full of life. Serpents and dragons and who knew what other genetically engineered beasts the scientists who’d terraformed the moon had loosed into the wilds.
What good was a penal colony if people deposited there weren’t penalized? Perhaps by being eaten by a dragon. The scientists, inspired by the cartographers, had apparently made plenty of those.
“I’m ready,” McKenzie said, stopping on the threshold of the cockpit, since Junkyard’s hundred-and-fifty-pound form blocked the entrance. The black, white, brown, and gray mutt snored away without acknowledging her.
McKenzie frowned down at the dog but didn’t step over him. She wore a full suit of green combat armor. Where had she gotten the money for that? She’d recently left her last job, the latest of twenty or thirty, supposedly over a “difference of opinion.”
“Put down as close to Shangri-La as you can, please,” McKenzie added.
Scipio tilted his head. “Shangri-La? Do you reference the fictional utopia described in—”
“She means Tianlong Three,” McCall said, knowing Scipio could and would recite the entire encyclopedia article, if not the whole novel. “My sister is under the delusion a colony founded by a bunch of autistic people will be utopian.”
“I didn’t say that.” McKenzie scowled through her faceplate. “But those founders were brilliant scientists, mathematicians, authors, and philosophers. If their offspring are like them, we might fit in there. That’s all I said.”
McCall started to retort that she fit in just fine on her own ship, but noticed the travel pack strapped to her sister’s back. A huge pack. “You’re not planning to stay, are you? I thought you just wanted to find it.”
“And apply for citizenship. If they’ll have me. And they should. I can design infrastructure for any terrain, and I can fix anything. If they’re completely self-sufficient, as the stories say, they may have a lot of old equipment in need of repairs.”
“Assuming the colony is still there. It’s been eighty years, and for brilliant people, they’ve been awfully quiet.”
“They’re there. I’m sure people like us could start a successful colony even in a remote, inhospitable location.”
“People like us? Clumsy geeks with the wilderness skills of chubby lap dogs?”
“You know what I mean.” McKenzie looked down at McCall’s wrist, at the bracelet McCall was still fiddling with.
Frowning, McCall let go of it. “Fine, go and live like a monk. But don’t expect me to visit.”
“You didn’t visit when I lived in Perun Central.” McKenzie arched her eyebrows. “Even though you have three clients there.”
McCall opened her mouth to make an excuse, realized that was all it would be, and said nothing instead. Her sister’s eyebrows remained up.
McCall looked back toward the cockpit controls, finding the silence uncomfortable. And typical. Just like the last time McCall had visited. Other than sharing goofy names their mother had chosen during a phase of reading Old Earth romance novels, they had little in common. Also, McCall had a hard time forgetting all the times her older sister had turned her back on her during school lunches. She’d been on a never-ending quest to fit in with the popular kids. It seemed McKenzie was trying to find someone else to fit in with now.
“I believe I can land the Star Surfer on that ledge,” Scipio said, oblivious to the awkward silence. Or indifferent to it. Or both. Either way, he was unflappable, as always. McCall fondly remembered the childhood year that she’d pretended to be an android. That might have been about the time McKenzie had been shooing her away. “It will require use of the quad grippers and a departure from the top hatch,” he added.
“Meaning we’re landing on a cliff and McKenzie will be climbing?”
“Correct.”
“Good thing you bought that fancy armor,” McCall told her sister.
“It is, because I’m sure you’ll need help climbing, and with the enhanced strength it gives me, I can offer you a boost.”
McCall blinked. “I’m not leaving the ship.”
“You have to.”
“No, I don’t. I made the map, and I brought you all the way out here, even though I have clients waiting for me to find things more criminal than genetically engineered dragons.”
“You’re the one who dug up all the clues. If the map is wrong and we need to adjust our route, you’ll be the one to know how.”
“Scipio helped me make the map. He’ll go along with you if needed.” McCall felt guilty whenever she volunteered Scipio for dirty work, but he was, by his own admission, nearly indestructible. The only time she’d seen him take serious damage had been during a run-in with a rogue imperial cyborg who hadn’t appreciated being hunted down.
“I don’t object to him coming, but I strongly object to you not coming. Be logical, McCall. Finding things is your gift. If Shangri-La were easy to locate, people would come here all the time.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Mom would have wanted us to work together.”
McCall scowled at the deck. She’d been afraid her sister would play the mom card at some point. They both regretted that so many family gatherings had involved arguing, accusations, and temper tantrums in front of their poor mother, a woman who’d loved them even though they’d been hard kids to love. McKenzie liked to cash in on McCall’s guilt from time to time. McCall recognized the manipulation, but she hadn’t figured out how to wall off her emotions so she could say no to it. Maybe she should have tried harder as a little girl to turn herself into an android.
* * *
McCall’s toes were going numb.
The sales robot that had sold her the jet boots had extolled the virtues of a secure fit, but she kept wondering if losing the circulation to her toes for too long would cause permanent damage. Then she wondered if she was weird for being more alarmed about that than the long drop into the gorge below. If the boots failed, she would plummet a hundred feet, bounce off the top of her ship, and splash into the river another hundred feet below. Or maybe she would splat into those prickly ferns next to it.
“I can’t believe you painted your ship purple,” McKenzie called over her shoulder.
She was climbing while McCall hovered behind her, the gauntlets of her fancy combat armor giving McKenzie far greater strength than usual.
McCall forced herself to focus on her sister’s back rather than the fall or her boots. This wasn’t the appropriate place for a panic attack. When they reached the top and a giant dragon sprang out to eat them, that would be the place.
“Nobody finds purple ships a threat,” McCall replied. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the thunderous squawks, shrieks, and screeches emanating from the jungle above and below them. Further, a waterfall roared over the edge of the cliff to their left, the river marking the canyon they were to head up. “It’s a scientific fact.”
“I’d think … your work … want to be inconspicuous.”
McCall flew closer, struggling to hear over the noise of the waterfall.
“All I do is fly around and do research on the sys-net. I’m not skulking through seedy space ports, looking for bad guys to pounce on.” McCall had chosen her line of work, being a self-employed skip tracer, specifically because she never had to leave her ship or interact with criminals. Or much of anyone. Most of her clients knew to send text messages rather than comming her.
“No pouncing? Sounds boring.”
“We can’t all lead the scintillating life of a sewer designer.”
“I won an award for that waste treatment system. And that’s not all I design.”
McCall bit back a comment about all the jobs McKenzie had been fired from in her life. As she’d finally learned, nothing except hurt feelings ever came from their sniping sessions. And it wasn’t as if she could have dealt with bosses and co-workers and office politics, either. There was a reason she’d constructed the career she had.
“Just wait until I get the costs down for the space elevator I’m designing,” McKenzie added, “and the empire builds it. It’ll be amazing.”
A noisy hiss came from above. Since McCall hovered only ten feet from the top, she had a good view of the monstrous snake head sticking over the edge. A dark tongue darted between fangs long enough to sharpen a butcher knife on. Or maybe a sword. Yellow eyes looked McCall up and down, assessing her ability to defend herself, or perhaps her caloric potential.
McCall tapped her wrist controller to pause her ascent and pulled out her blazer from its holster. Normally, she wouldn’t pick a fight with innocent wildlife, but this snake had the look of an imperial cyborg fresh from a 50K run, making selections at a buffet.
Unaware of it, McKenzie kept climbing. The yellow eyes shifted focus to her. Before McCall could shout a warning, the flat, arrow-shaped head darted toward her sister.
Though her heart pounded in her ears, McCall stayed calm enough to aim and fire twice. It helped that she wasn’t the snake’s target.
Her crimson blazer bolts struck as it tried to sink its fangs into McKenzie’s helmet. One scorched a hole into its thick body. The other blew up its head, and snake brains spattered the cliff and McKenzie’s armor. The remains of its limp body slithered over the edge of the cliff, clunking her shoulder as it fell.
McCall lowered her blazer with a shaking hand. It took her three tries to get it back in the holster. She was well aware that she would have been too late if McKenzie hadn’t been wearing armor. Fortunately, those long fangs hadn’t even scratched the helmet.
“You shoot well for someone who doesn’t pounce on bad guys that often.” McKenzie twisted to look at the snake’s body—it had landed on the Surfer.
Maybe Scipio would remove it, and Junkyard could have it for dinner. The dog had been put out at being left behind for this adventure.
“Sometimes, bad guys want to pounce on you. I try to avoid that, but figure it’s better safe than sorry.” When a client concerned for her welfare had first dragged her to a shooting range, McCall had been delighted to learn that her lack of athletic ability didn’t translate to ineptitude when it came to marksmanship. Different genes, maybe.
“Good idea. Though I’m shocked you don’t have a set of combat armor.” McKenzie resumed her climb, surprisingly blasé about the snake incident. Maybe she believed nothing in the jungle could get her through that armor. McCall wouldn’t take that bet.
“I’m shocked you do.” McCall resumed her own ascent. “I can’t even wear a shirt with a tag in it without going nuts.” She wiggled her numb toes. She was making a rare exception when it came to wearing uncomfortable clothing.
“Don’t laugh,” McKenzie said as they stepped into dense moss coating the top of the cliff, “but I went to a hypnotist. To help with the claustrophobia. I’ve been planning this adventure for a while.”
The huge pack on her back promised this was more than an “adventure” for her.
McKenzie peered into the dense, dark foliage ahead of them and out over the gorge they’d climbed from. “There’s nothing left for me back on Perun.”
“You got rid of your apartment and everything?”
“I sold my car to buy the armor, and the apartment… Yeah, it’s gone too.”
Her phrasing made McCall suspect there was more to the story, but she didn’t pry. She was surprised McKenzie was being this open with her, as it was. For the first ten years of her professional career, McKenzie had always pretended she was doing great, that the frequent employment changes represented new opportunities she’d chosen to take rather than jobs she’d been fired from. McCall remembered being envious of the design awards she’d shown off, until she’d dug around and learned that McKenzie had, on several occasions, come close to being the kind of person McCall got hired to find.
“Well, you and your fancy armor get to lead the way and be the snake bait.” McCall waved in the direction of their destination, or at least the spot marked on her map. There wasn’t anything remotely resembling a trail.
“Gladly.” McKenzie popped a laser cutter out of her arm piece and sliced into the brush and vines. “I appreciate you coming along.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I do, however, wish you’d brought your android. He told me he was named Scipio after a great war hero from Old Earth.”
“True, but he named himself Scipio. He’s very useful, but he’s a personal assistant model, originally designed to run errands for important businessmen.” McCall followed her sister, doing her best to avoid the dangling vines and clawing thorns. Her skin already felt itchy. The terraformers had probably thought allergy-inducing foliage would add insult to injury on their penal moon.
“And now he runs errands for you?” McKenzie sounded wistful.
“Sort of. I made him my business partner so he gets fifty percent of everything.”
“Fifty percent of your money? What in the universe do androids do with money?”
“I don’t know about other androids, but he collects hats and ceramic eggs.”
“Eggs?”
“Apparently, eggs are a geometrically appealing shape. He finds them soothing.”
“Soothing?” McKenzie ducked under a branch. “Your android needs to be soothed? That’s not typical, is it?”
“For people who have to work with me? It may be.”
“I meant for androids.”
“I know. It was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“Are you sure? You’re not the best judge of such things.”
McKenzie grumbled something under her breath and didn’t ask another question. Good. McCall didn’t like giving people information on Scipio since her acquisition of him had been unorthodox. A rescue, he’d called it. McCall was fairly certain the empire considered it thievery and wanted him back. But as long as they believed him destroyed, she hoped it wouldn’t be a problem.
The dry vines above McKenzie’s head rustled loudly. McCall jerked her blazer out again but didn’t spot the brown snake blending in with the brown foliage until it was upon them. Six inches thick and who knew how long, it curled around McKenzie’s armored torso with the speed of a bullwhip snapping around a branch.
As McCall took aim, McKenzie shrieked and flailed. Her laser cutter was still on, and it shot wildly through the vegetation in all directions.
McCall cursed and ducked as the beam lanced toward her. She scrambled behind her sister, trying to aim as McKenzie flailed. She fired twice, her blazer bolts sailing wide. The snake coiled further and constricted. Something popped—McKenzie’s armor?
Taking cover behind a tree, McCall forced herself to stop moving long enough to aim effectively. McKenzie continued to gyrate as she tried to grip the snake and tear it free. Its body seemed to flex, and it lifted her from her feet. She shrieked.
McCall took a deep breath, lined up her sights, and fired. A bolt slammed into the snake. She fired again, aiming at spots above her sister. Her armor should repel blazer bolts, but there was no need to take chances.
McCall struck again and again, blowing gaping holes in the snake. It tightened, and another pop came from McKenzie’s armor.
Her boots dangled at eye level, and McCall worried the snake would never let go, that they would both disappear into the trees. She fired recklessly and often, trying to blow open its head, a head that was tucked under her sister’s armpit.
Her shots grazed McKenzie’s armor, but enough of them struck, and the snake finally had enough. It let go of her abruptly, and she crashed into the leaf litter, landing on her back.
McCall shot twice more, afraid the creature would regroup and attack again. Almost as abruptly as it had let go, it fell out of the vines. It landed in a pile atop McKenzie, and she shrieked one more time.
“Get it off!” She sounded angry and frustrated as much as afraid.
McCall wanted to help, but she also didn’t want to touch it with her bare hands. It looked slimy and slick, and she hated things with weird textures. Especially dead things with weird textures.
“I think you can just roll away from it.” McCall eyed their surroundings, the vines and leaves far too close for comfort. A hundred more predators could be within ten meters of them, and she would never know it.
As McKenzie grunted and heaved dramatically—as if her armor didn’t allow her to easily flick aside a snake, even a twenty-foot one—a green amorphous blob floated past. At first, McCall thought it some strange leaf caught on the wind, but it wriggled stalks or perhaps antennae at her, then tripled its speed, disappearing into the foliage. She had no idea what it was or what propelled it.
“I wonder if scientists created everything here, or if there was any native life before the terraforming,” McCall said, twisting her bracelet as she peered at the alien growth. Upon closer inspection, what she had assumed were towering trees appeared to be colonies of vines.
“I wonder if snake blood comes off combat armor.” McKenzie swiped ineffectively at the gore on her chest, then grimaced at a dark stain on the corner of her pack. Somehow, she’d kept the straps on while flailing about.
“Probably with a sponge rather than a gauntlet. It would be a pity if armor could deflect bullets and blazer bolts, but not repel stains.”
Leaves rustled, and the dead snake was yanked into the undergrowth. McCall jumped, grabbing her blazer again.
But whatever claimed the snake for dinner didn’t show itself. She swallowed, imagining the strength of whatever had pulled the big snake away so quickly.
McKenzie took a deep breath and faced forward, lifting her cutting tool to continue forging a path. “Shangri-La, Shangri-La,” she whispered, almost a chant.
McCall shook her head as she followed. If they found a colony somewhere in all this, would McKenzie truly like the people there? Maybe it was a betrayal to “her kind,” but McCall didn’t usually like people like her that much. They often seemed aloof and prickly or tedious as they rambled on about odd passions. Normal people were easier to get along with. McCall’s favorites were those rare souls who were comfortable in their own skins and had a knack for making others feel at ease too.
“Is there not a way you could work for yourself?” McCall asked as they pushed vines aside and clambered over moss-carpeted logs. “Back on Perun.”
“The systems I design are on the scale of cities and require teams.”
“What if you led the teams?”
“I’d still be working for an employer. I don’t have your entrepreneurial streak, so I don’t know how I could make a business of it and call all the shots. I’m not even sure I want that. I just want…” McKenzie paused, frowning at her prints in the earth.
“To be accepted for who you are?”
McKenzie snorted. “Three suns, that’s cheesy.”
“But not wrong?”
“I guess not.”
“Why didn’t you ever … I mean, did you consider the surgery?”
“I considered it.” McKenzie looked back. “Did you? They say it doesn’t change you.”
“Yes, they say that. Which is amusing since what would be the point if it didn’t change you?”
“You know what they mean. Your personality and memories stay the same, though apparently, you’re less prone to emotional outbursts and fighting with your sister.”
“Clearly, you should have signed up right away.”
McKenzie snorted again. “If I really felt impaired, I’d do it. But when you have something you’re good at, and maybe you’re only good at it because you think differently than others do, it’s scary to contemplate changing the way your brain cells rub together.”
“I know.”
McCall had probably read all the same accounts of people who’d undergone the “normalization” surgery, as the imperial doctors called it. Most of the time, parents made the decision to do it when kids were little, so they didn’t have a choice in the matter. McCall had wondered occasionally what she would have been like—what school and dating and life would have been like—if Mom had made that decision. But Mom had feared the empire and doctors equally, and she’d avoided them at all costs. In the end, that had cost her her life.
“I know you do,” McKenzie said. “I’ve looked you up, and it seems you’re unparalleled in your field, as odd as that is.”
“Odd?” McCall tamped down her natural inclination toward bristling at a slight.
“You can’t look people in the eye and don’t seem to get them any more than I do, but you can figure out where they’re hiding when they disappear from the system.”
“I’m using the sys-net and deductive reasoning, not studying people’s pupils. I do have a long list of typical human motivations next to my desk. When I’m stuck, I look at them. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that people are motivated by weird things.”
“What are you motivated by?”
“Having the freedom to control my own destiny.”
“That’s a hard thing to do in the empire,” McKenzie said. “Hells, that’s been a hard thing to do throughout human history.”
“I have my own ship, fly where I want, work my own hours, take on the cases I want. It’s enough.”
“Yeah, I have to admit I’m jealous that you have it all figured out.”
McCall tripped over a root. “You’re jealous of me?”
McKenzie turned around—bits of vine and leaves had joined the dried blood sticking to her chest. “That surprises you?”
“Yes, actually. You were the one who got all those awards, and—I don’t know. You always gave off the impression you thought I was a twit.”
McKenzie gazed into the brush. McCall wasn’t the only one who found prolonged eye contact uncomfortable.
“I’d like to pretend I didn’t realize I was kind of an ass,” McKenzie said slowly, “but it always bothered me that you were a weirdo and you knew it and you didn’t care. You even seemed happy being weird. And I tried so hard to be … one of them. Because I couldn’t stand being snickered at or talked about behind my back. I wanted everyone to like me so they wouldn’t do that. I think, deep down, I knew you were a better person when it came to that stuff, and I resented that I couldn’t be like that. Maybe I was smug about my grades and awards, but I had to be better than you at something.”
The honesty floored McCall. Maybe it had been worth this trek if only to hear it.
“If it helps, not everything is perfect for me,” she said. “I’ve crafted a life that makes me comfortable, yes, but it concerns me sometimes that I’ve never figured out relationships and that my closest friends are a dog and an android. Like, will I die alone? Will anyone even remember me when I’m gone?”
“I’d say I’d remember you, but I’m two years older, so you could outlive me.”
A screech came from the canopy above them.
“Unless I get eaten by a snake in here,” McCall said. “Though at least I won’t die alone then.”
“What are you talking about? I’ll sprint back to the ship if a snake is munching on you. You’ll be completely alone.” McKenzie grinned at her.
“You’re still an ass, you know.”
“Yeah.” McKenzie thumped her on the shoulder.
McCall almost pitched into the brush—her sister wasn’t used to that extra strength yet. But she righted herself and didn’t complain. Neither of them had ever been huggers, much to their mother’s chagrin, and this was as close to sisterly camaraderie as they’d gotten in a long time. Maybe ever.
“Is it petty,” McKenzie asked, “that it does make me feel better to know that you haven’t gotten it all figured out?”
“Extremely petty. But I’ll be petty right back and hope that snake-blood stain doesn’t come out of your armor.”
“That’s so evil.”
* * *
The hives spreading across the backs of McCall’s hands were starting to look like a relief map of the Kataran Mountains on Perun. Thorns clawed her through her clothing and cut at any skin she’d been foolish enough to leave exposed. The screeches, hoots, and whistles of the jungle grated on her nerves, and she caught herself taking deep breaths, fighting for calm amid the chaos of it all.
As she slogged after her sister, McCall tugged at her bracelet and fought the urge to itch her hives. Her toes were completely numb, leaving her on the verge of ripping off the jet boots and walking barefoot. She’d hoped to use them to fly under the canopy, in addition to bypassing cliffs, but the foliage was too dense for navigating easily on land or in the air.
Everything was combining to frustrate and irritate her. She longed for her peaceful cabin aboard the Surfer.
McKenzie cut away some vines, somehow causing a head-sized cone to plop onto McCall’s shoulder. Thorns bit through her shirt before it bounced off.
“Ouch,” she blurted. “Damn it, Kenzie. Why couldn’t you have just asked for money like Cousin Anise does?”
The words came out more savagely than she intended, and as usual when she lost her temper, she felt guilty afterward. Especially when McKenzie gazed back at her, as unperturbed as a cat in a sunbeam. Maybe her combat armor made her less prone to the irritations of the jungle. Or maybe the fact that this was her quest granted her equanimity.
“Because I have pride,” McKenzie said.
“Sounds inconvenient.”
“Sometimes it is.” McKenzie pointed in the direction they’d been heading. “According to your map, we’re getting close. My sensors don’t show any life up there. Which is weird.”
“Weird?”
“No life at all.”
“Ah, no snakes or birds, either?”
“Right. I’m thinking there may be some kind of forcefield or camouflage to make the colony hard to find.” McKenzie bounced on her toes. “This is our first proof that something is here.”
“Huh.” McCall hadn’t truly expected to find anyone living out here. The penal colony inhabitants kept to the far side of the moon and weren’t encouraged to wander.
“Careful, you’ll overwhelm me with your excitement.”
“I’m containing my urge to issue loud whoops lest I attract more predators.”
“Uh-huh. According to my sensors, we’re almost at the end of our box canyon. Our destination. Can you fly up ahead and see if you can spot it from above?” McKenzie pointed to the jet boots. “It looks less dense up there now.”
Glad to have a reason to use the toe-numbing boots, McCall tapped the controls and went aloft without argument. “Less dense” did not mean clear, and she had to dart around branches and vines like a ship navigating the Kir Asteroid Belt. She couldn’t see the sky through the canopy, and soon she couldn’t see the ground, either.
She passed more of those floating blobs, none appearing alarmed by her presence this time. Or so she thought. Abruptly, they whooshed away in multiple directions. Fleeing from her? Or some more dangerous predator?
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she had the sensation of being watched.
“Do your sensors show anything big up here?” she called, pulling out her blazer and rotating to peer in all directions.
It had grown quiet, birds and other creatures falling silent, and she could hear her sister cutting vines from her path.
“It’s hard to distinguish the size of any one thing when there’s such a mass of life all around,” McKenzie called back. “I—wait. There’s—”
The thunderous snapping of branches drowned out her words. A huge green creature flew toward McCall, tearing away vines as it flapped leathery wings.
She glimpsed scales, talons, and an open maw filled with giant fangs. That was enough. She fired at its head and whirled away, angling her boots to take her toward the ground.
Thorns and twigs clawed at her, but she barely noticed. Not with that thing barreling straight after her, the loud snaps of branches announcing its passage.
“McCall?” came a call from the ground. “Are you all right?”
McCall glanced back as she weaved between vines, trying to find a tight area where the creature—the dragon—couldn’t follow. But it was right behind her. Breaking through obstacles she had to go around.
“No!” she cried, almost crashing into a tangle of thick vines as she fired rapidly.
Her blazer bolts struck the creature in the head—one took it right between the eyes—but it was as if it wore combat armor. The blasts bounced off its scales.
“Lead it here!” McKenzie yelled. “I’m armored.”
McCall doubted that would be enough, but she didn’t know what else to do. She swooped downward, trying to find the ground, having some notion that she’d be safer down there. A delusion, perhaps.
A massive blue beam lanced out of the jungle ahead. Light? A weapon? It shot past only a couple of feet above McCall’s head.
The dragon shrieked as the beam hammered into its chest. For the first time, it faltered. Faltered, but did not halt. It roared in agony and rage, eyes locking on to McCall, as if she’d done that.
Its massive jaws yawned open, and a gout of flames shot out.
McCall dove so hard and fast that she slammed shoulder-first into the ground. The heat of the flames scorched the air above her, and she imagined her eyebrows being singed off.
Rolling to her back, she fired. The dragon was still coming, angling downward, its talons outstretched.
She shot at its chest where a char mark had melted scales and burned into flesh and muscle. Her blazer seemed puny against its mass, and the dragon didn’t slow down. Gravity swept it toward her.
Crashes came from the side, McKenzie running toward her, but she would be too late to help. McCall tried to roll away, but logs and brush fenced her in.
As certain death descended, another massive bolt of blue came out of nowhere. It slammed into the dragon hard enough to hurl it into a copse of trees. Snaps of wood echoed through the jungle.
McCall jumped to her feet and pushed her way into the brush, away from the dragon and toward the source of those beams, hoping safety lay that way. She met an odd resistance, as if the air had grown ten times as dense, but she was able to push through.
The dragon roared again, coming to its feet and shaking off like Junkyard when he was wet. McKenzie’s green armor came into view, and she shrieked with surprise as she almost ran into the dragon. She veered around it.
McCall paused, afraid it would lunge at McKenzie and that those fangs would sink through her armor.
But the dragon must have had enough. It sprang into the air and flew back the way it had come.
McKenzie stumbled back, gaping at it until it disappeared. “I didn’t really think there would be dragons.”
“I didn’t think there’d be dragons that would breathe fire.” McCall looked down at her hands, her skin red as if from a sunburn. As if the hives hadn’t been insult enough. “What kind of genetic encoding allows for that?”
“If you’re going to create a fairytale creature, I guess you go all the way.”
“More like a nightmare creature.”
McKenzie walked over, then frowned and stuck her hand out. She pushed at the air, and McCall remembered the resistance she’d felt.
They moved forward together, and between one step and the next, the jungle they had been walking through disappeared, replaced by a grassy clearing framed by three stone walls, the end of the canyon. A waterfall fell into a pool, then flowed into a river, the one they had been following but barely hearing or seeing sign of it.
A couple of gray metal buildings sat in the clearing. Beyond them, caves pierced the cliffs, some with dark doors covering them, almost as if they were garages, and others open with ledges overlooking the meadow.
Sunlight shone down through a break in the canopy, a break that hadn’t been visible from above. McCall was certain of it. The Surfer had flown over this spot on the way in.
“It’s beautiful,” McKenzie said, turning a full circle. “So peaceful. You could work on anything here, come up with all manner of designs. Or finish ones you’ve started. Like a space elevator from Perun Central to the planet’s big orbital base.”
“You’ll have to tell me more about that sometime.”
“Gladly! I’ll show you my prototype before you go home. But now, let’s explore.” McKenzie skipped toward the buildings.
McCall walked behind more slowly, tempted to ask if her sister detected life signs now. The place seemed empty, with few sounds except for the rush of the water. She supposed people could live behind those cave doors.
Movement to the side made McCall jump. A large, floating black disc at the perimeter of the meadow fired into the jungle, a massive blue beam identical to the ones that had struck the dragon. She spotted other discs, also along the perimeter. Robot guards?
The closest disc sailed toward McKenzie. An intercept course.
“McKenzie,” McCall shouted in warning, jogging after her sister. “Look out!”
McKenzie had almost reached the first building, but she paused and lifted her hands as the disc flew toward her. McCall had assumed it kept animals—and dragons—out and let humans in, but perhaps that had been premature.
The disc stopped a few meters from McKenzie, its weapons port pointing at her chest. Would her armor stop such a big blast? The dragon’s nearly impervious scales hadn’t.
“State the passcode or solve the puzzle if you wish access to the sanctuary,” a woman’s melodious voice said, coming from the disc.
McKenzie looked at McCall. “Passcode? Did you come across that in your research?”
“No.”
“State the passcode or solve the puzzle if you wish access to the sanctuary,” the disc repeated. “Only the scholarly and peaceful are allowed here.”
“Guess they didn’t want escapees from the penal colony coming to visit,” McCall said.
“We’ll do the puzzle,” McKenzie said, looking toward the cliffs, as if she expected someone to come out and welcome them.
“And hope nothing happens if we can’t solve it.”
Four other discs drifted in their direction, then split to surround them. They effectively blocked the route back into the jungle.
“We’d probably just get kicked out,” McKenzie said. “But that’s not acceptable. I came to stay.” She spoke the words firmly, but her expression was uncertain as she gazed around again.
McCall had a feeling the sensors built into her armor weren’t showing her anybody around.
One of the discs floated closer, and she eyed it warily. She didn’t reach for her blazer, doubting her shots could damage the sturdy robot, but she debated on leaping into the air and using her boots to fly overhead. Would they follow her up? Or could she escape?
But what of McKenzie? The jets weren’t strong enough to lift two, and she couldn’t leave her sister. Her mother would have—
Light flared, as if McCall were looking into a sun. She flung her arm up and squinted her eyes shut. The sensation of falling came over her, and she spread her legs, struggling for balance.
When the light faded, she wasn’t in the meadow anymore. She was in a hospital room, sitting next to a bed with a patient hooked up to monitors and an IV. A familiar patient. Mom.
Her skin was pale, her body gaunt, her hair falling out, and she looked old, far older than her fifty-three years.
McKenzie sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, her eyes brimming with tears. McCall met her gaze, and her sister shook her head. Mom didn’t have much time left. The treatment hadn’t worked. She’d been too sick when she’d finally come to the hospital, the disease too far advanced.
“There’s hope,” a voice said at McCall’s ear.
An android stood there in hospital scrubs. His hair was short and dark, his eyes silver, and for a moment, she thought it was Scipio. But this was a different model. Besides, she hadn’t known Scipio yet when this had happened. Or was it happening now? She looked at Mom in confusion, trying to remember how she’d gotten here.
“We’re so close to solving the problem. Want to have a try at it?” The android opened his hand, revealing a netdisc, and a holodisplay came up. A close-up of blood cells, some bright and round, others dark and lopsided. Diseased. “Just move them around so the healthy ones win.”
It sounded stupid, more like a game than a solution to a health problem, but McCall lifted a finger, unable to keep from trying. The challenge called to her, as did the possibility that she was wrong, that this could help. That it could save Mom.
“McCall,” McKenzie whispered from across the bed. “She’s awake.”
“Good,” McCall said, but didn’t look away from the display. She found she could move blood cells around by dragging her finger. Surrounding the diseased ones with healthy ones caused the diseased ones to disappear. But there were so many more of them than the healthy ones. Was it possible to gain the upper hand?
“McCall,” McKenzie said, now holding Mom’s hand.
Mom’s eyes were open, sunken with dark bags under them. She looked so weary, but she lifted a frail hand toward McCall.
McCall started to reach for her, but she needed both hands to move cells around. She was making some progress. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Less than half the cells left were diseased.
“Be right there,” she said.
Her hands were a blur as she moved cells. The android watched on, but never spoke, never changed his expression.
The last diseased cell disappeared from the display, and McCall surged to her feet. “I did it!”
She looked toward Mom and McKenzie. Tears streaked her sister’s cheeks. Mom’s eyes were closed again, and the instruments monitoring her had stopped running.
“A valiant effort,” the android said, “but unfortunately you were too late.”
McKenzie shook her said slowly. Accusingly?
“But I solved the puzzle,” McCall whispered. How could it not have worked?
* * *
The sky was a deep blue, but a black circle obscured the edge of it. An eclipse? No, the sun wasn’t blocked.
McCall stared upward for several long seconds before awareness returned, along with the memory she’d just relived. No, not a memory. In reality, she and McKenzie had sat together by Mom’s bed. She’d taken their hands, placed them atop each other, and held them with her own weak ones. She had elicited a promise that they would look out for each other, then whispered that she loved them.
McCall had been there for it. She hadn’t been ignoring her dying mother to play some game, so she found the false memory confusing. Admittedly, during those last weeks, she had spent a lot of time researching and trying to find a way to cure Mom, perhaps some obscure treatment the doctors had overlooked or hadn’t considered. After Mom had passed, she had wondered if she’d spent too much time doing that, time she could have spent being with her. But it had been so hard to be there, not knowing what to say or how to feel, wondering if a different daughter, a better one, would have been able to make her mother feel more comfortable and loved in the end.
The black disc floated away, leaving only the sky. And the grass pricking her neck. Why was she flat on her back?
McKenzie stepped into view, her helmet tucked under her arm, sweat plastering her hair to her face. “I guess you solved your puzzle too,” she said, her voice having a hollowness to it.
“I … guess.” As McCall sat up, the disc floated back to its sentry duty on the perimeter. “I feel like I failed though.”
“Mine was like that too.” McKenzie wiped her eyes—she’d also removed her gauntlets. Were those tears? Had she experienced the same moment? Or a different one? “But I knew I’d passed because the robots left me alone. So I could look around.” She waved toward the buildings and the caves. “And find that there’s nobody here.”
“Ah.”
“There hasn’t been for a long time. Everything’s old and dusty.” McKenzie looked skyward, her fingers flexing at her sides, helpless. “There aren’t any skeletons or signs of fights or anything. It’s like they just left. And forgot to tell anyone.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to admit their colony was a failure, that it wasn’t Shangri-La.” McCall couldn’t claim to be surprised.
“Fuck.” McKenzie kicked her pack.
McCall chewed on her lip. “I know you were hoping for a comfortable place to live.” She didn’t say fit in, since she’d never cared for that phrase. People weren’t jigsaw pieces to be slotted together. “But you can find that even back in the empire. If you’re creative, you can carve out a spot for yourself where you can be who you are. Sometimes, that’s what you have to do. Carve. Chisel. Jackhammer. Adjust the world, at least a small piece of it, to suit you.”
“Maybe I should get a purple spaceship.”
“Sure, why not?”
McKenzie smiled sadly at the abandoned buildings, and McCall didn’t know if that denoted agreement or not.
* * *
“Back to civilization,” McCall said, the lights of the dark side of Perun visible on the view screen. “Real-time communications and access to Tammy Jammy bars.”
“The latter being your primary concern, I surmise.” Scipio was busy piloting them toward the planet, but he nodded toward McCall’s sole remaining bar, a few pieces carefully preserved for emergencies.
She touched it lovingly, rustling the wrapper. At the back of the cockpit, Junkyard lifted his head from his bed, ears perking. Civilization also meant access to quality dog treats. Not that he was above Tammy Jammy bars.
“You surmise correctly. I should check on McKenzie.” McCall tapped her netdisc to look up the local time in Perun Central. Assuming her sister had gone back there. When they’d dropped McKenzie off a month earlier, McCall had worried that she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. She had been tempted to go down to the planet with her, but several jobs had come in while she’d been cavorting on Dragons Moon, so she’d only grabbed fuel and supplies before taking off again.
As McCall verified it was before midnight downside, the comm flashed. McKenzie’s face appeared in the holodisplay, and she smiled broadly. It was alarming since neither McCall nor McKenzie were the type to display so many teeth.
“You’re back,” McKenzie said. “I’m glad. I wanted to tell you right away—I had the surgery.”
“Oh.” Stunned, McCall didn’t know what else to say. After their conversation in the jungle, she hadn’t thought McKenzie considered the brain surgery even a last resort.
“Things are going better now. I got a new job. I’m feeling more comfortable working as a team member.” McKenzie’s smile widened. “My boss likes me. We went out to lunch yesterday.”
“Oh.” Realizing her responses were monosyllabic, McCall added, “Are you all right? Have there been any side effects?”
McKenzie hesitated. “No, I’m fine.”
“That’s good.” McCall wanted to pry, but doubted her sister would appreciate it.
“I find it a little harder to concentrate, but that’s all. I used to hyper focus on things I cared about. But I’m not so obsessed anymore. I’m developing more interests. That’s healthy, my doctor told me.”
“Working on any exciting new projects at work?”
“Oh, we mostly maintain old infrastructure here. There’s not a need for exciting and new.” McKenzie waved her hand, as if to dismiss this as a minor point.
“Any progress on the space elevator?”
“No, that was just a silly project. Who would ever pay for it? Anyway, you should come visit. We’ll go out to dinner. Mary Lee at the office showed me this great wine place. You’d like it. You’ll come, right?”
McCall forced herself to smile, though she was flailing on the inside. Or maybe wailing. “I’ll come.”
“Good. I’m much happier now, McCall. Why don’t you look into the surgery too?”
McCall’s thoughts drifted back to the sentry robots and that weird puzzle. Weeks later, the incident still disturbed her. She questioned the humanity of whoever had programmed that robot to prioritize puzzles over people. And the fact that she’d passed made her question her own humanity.
Was she different from others, as she’d always known, or was she broken? And was a surgery that could fix her brokenness a good thing?
No, she decided. Better to be broken if that was what it took to pursue unrealistic dreams.
“Not for me,” she told her sister, “but I’m glad you’re content.”
They said their goodbyes, and McCall leaned back in her seat, her chin in her hand.
“What surgery did your sister have?” Scipio asked. “She seemed fit and hale when she was here.”
“Yes.”
Scipio waited, no doubt expecting her to answer the original question because he was programmed to understand how social interactions worked. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t.
“It seems the outcome was good,” he offered.
“If nothing else, I think I’ll get along with my sister more easily now.”
“This is a positive development.”
“Or it’s the loss of something intangible but not inconsequential,” McCall murmured.
Scipio gave her a puzzled look, but she had nothing else to say.