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Daka and Thruma consummated their agreement the night of the copper harvest as it came to be known. Three days later they picked out a place to bury their eggs. With help from Couro and Marg who they chose to be the Guardians of the Nest, a shallow trench was dug according to the old customs. For the last two hundred years, the number of eggs rarely exceeded five, but they dug their trench for thirteen, one for each digit and an extra, using Thruma’s spread hand as a measure. The season was good, and no cold weather was expected for sixty spins.
Two days later, a hover sled loaded with six armored up Shaitan warriors and the local administrator arrived at Thruma’s village at dawn. Just before everyone would go to the fields. Rousting all the humans out of their huts they were herded to the village square where Thruma was on her knees in front of the administrator.
“You obviously just laid eggs. Which mate gave copper?” the administrator was asking as the villagers arrived.
“It was my copper. I have been saving a long time,” she replied.
“Pure copper is being exuded. My tongue swells it is so pure. A foreign intruder killed thirty Shaitan and destroyed three ships. They were spies looking for our mine and they deorbited close to here. Now we find a Dragon too poor to feed herself exuding pure copper. How many eggs did you produce? They will be ours,” he said.
“No, you will not eat my eggs!!” Thruma shouted as she leapt up and bit the administrator’s face. She was doing a good job of ripping it off, when a soldier shot her in the chest. The humans didn’t dare move nor draw a breath.
“Humans, go to work. A new overseer will be here by nightfall,” one of the soldiers directed while the administrator was being carried to the sled. “And bury this carcass. If you eat it, I will know.” He then ran to the sled so as not to be left behind in this dangerous countryside.
The humans did go to work and one of them took the village truck to inform Daka of the bad news.
Daka and Couro were sitting together on the ground eating their mid-day meal.
“You know they will find out about you,” Couro said plainly.
“I don’t care. It is time for the Shaitan to leave our world. They are not gods. They are demons like your religion talks about,” Daka replied with venom in his voice. “Many Dragon believe this, but there are so few of us now. And we have no weapons. I will live with the Woollies before I submit again. My friend, it is time for me to leave. Protect our hatchlings as you promised.”
“I will. When they are big enough you should come back if only for a few days to impart your knowledge. Humans cannot pass knowledge of instinct to your species as you do.”
“I will be back and hopefully I will have found others with the same resolve. Walk the straight and narrow Couro,” Daka said as he rose and walked toward the treeline.
Marg had talked to Al almost every day since being given the Q comm. They chatted about all sorts of things but always a little of the trouble Daka was stirring up. A couple of times he had been cornered, but his speed, accuracy, and the punching power of a .357 magnum let him go through the Shaitans like a barracuda through a school of bait fish. Other Dragons wanted to join but were unarmed. It was time to help him out.
“It will be like helping the French Resistance,” Al argued.
“And who is going to train them? We cannot afford to have someone caught,” Oliver said.
“Not going to be anyone there to be caught. Daniel and I will be there virtually through a hologram appearing as Klingons. We won’t even use Federation uniforms. Just the Mad Max stuff they used as civilians. The Israelis will supply the weapons. We just send a barge loaded with their supplies.”
Oliver thought for a good while trying to think of the downside and couldn’t.
“Ok, approved. Send him a hovercycle as well. Might be a good idea to beef up the barge, maybe a remotely controlled light machine gun,” he finally said.
“Good idea, thanks Boss,” Al said and winked out.
Daniel and Al had a good time planning this adventure. Al would always appear with a beret set at a jaunty angle and a pencil thin moustache. He was really getting into it. Mossad tossed in some top-quality silencers unavailable on the open market. They were ready to start some trouble for the demon lizards.
