Harriet Bell
Sunniva eyed the human dubiously. He was certainly — impressive. Tall and blond, with chiseled cheekbones, and the sleek gray formal servants’ uniform fit him like a glove, outlining broad shoulders and long, lean thighs. If only he’d had the fine dragonscale pattern all Dreki shared extending across those cheekbones… Sunniva shook herself.
He is pretty, her dragon commented.
That’s not helpful!
Sunniva yanked her gaze away from the man to where her brother Giels was leaning against the marble mantelpiece watching them both, dark amusement in his eyes, and felt her heart sink further.
He was the reason she was on this planet in the first place. Sunniva grew up on the Dreki homeworld, the last, late child in her clan’s direct line. Space and resources on the homeworld were severely limited, and most heirs went off-world to seek their fortunes. Giels left when Sunniva was six and her dragon barely fledged, heading for a newly acquired planet on the very fringes of the Empire, where a male clan member might hope to form a favorable alliance.
Back on the homeworld, Sunniva’s dragon had grown, but although she flew — breathtakingly fast and high — she’d never signaled the challenge that would invite another dragon to fly with her in a mating flight. She flew alone. Without that flight Sunniva could not be considered a full Dreki; she could never inherit, hold land or form an alliance.
Not unheard of, but uncommon. Her clan had her inspected by experts from half a dozen systems, sparing no expense, but found nothing. Her dragon would rise when she was ready; whenever that was. Sunniva was sidelined, a disappointment best forgotten about.
She’d flung herself into research, following a childhood passion she’d had since f
irst looking through her dragon’s eyes at the networks of energies that cradled the homeworld, and that the Dreki drew on for their jewel-based technology. At first she’d worked alone, convinced that her status indicated some underlying defect that would taint everything she produced, but finally she’d gained the nerve to send some of her findings to the planetary energy guild. They’d reached out almost immediately, and offered her a position as a researcher, “regardless of your clan ranking.” Sunniva had read the message over and over until it sunk in. And then her mother had summoned her home.
The fringe planet Giels had made his home had prospered, and the Dreki Empire planned to open a permanent worldgate there. All local clan heads would be given the chance to hold access and trading rights, but as a male Giels couldn’t hold clan territory in his own right, and although his dragon was mature he had yet to form a permanent alliance. He had requested that Sunniva be sent out to see if her dragon would consider one of the dragons already on the planet with him, and thus salvage the situation.
Her mother glared down at Sunniva when she’d mentioned the letter from the guild.
“We ask you to do so little for the clan, and now you want to shut yourself away in a laboratory? Has our support meant nothing?” Then she softened. “It would mean so much to me if you’d only try.”
Despite herself, Sunniva still hoped for her family’s approval. She’d arrived almost a month ago. It had not gone well. Her dragon still hadn’t risen for any of Giels’ candidates (she winced away from the memory) and so she’d tried to help the clan in her own way. Which meant leaving the aerie.
“Well?” Giels’ voice broke into her thoughts, and she hastened to say something.
“I’m going to be scrambling over rocks with scientific equipment, not attending formal balls.” Sunniva waved a hand to indicate the man’s impeccable appearance. What she’d asked for was permission to create a few lizardforms to transport the heavy equipment and scare off any of the rebel humans Giels told her lurked in the hills, sabotaging mining sites and raiding the transports. It would have been simple and convenient. This was neither.
Giels smiled. “His clothes come off, sister dear.” His smile widened at her answering flush. “And if you need a bodyguard he might as well be presentable.”
His gaze flickered dismissively over her chemical-stained working clothes. “Our clan do have certain standards.”
The human’s eyes — a deep, clear blue — stared blankly into the distance. Sunniva, who’d been coaxing a detection filament to grow out from its matrix in precisely the right sort of spiral when Giels had summoned her, a process that involved tweaking the chemical bath it grew in to an exacting and rather messy degree, smoothed down a few of the more obvious wrinkles and tried to look like a clan daughter and heir rather than a half-trained amateur who spent most of her time struggling with uncooperative equipment.
Earth, as the locals called this planet, lacked a planetary energy network. Giels, like most of the Dreki here, had commandeered the existing human power plants, but conversion was wasteful and power was in short supply, directed mainly towards mining and opening the temporary worldgate for exports. However, a few clans had set up their own, drawing mainly on geothermal sources. Giels’ aerie was unsuitable for that, but Sunniva had a plan. Although doing it all herself was a daunting task…
The human can help, her dragon said.
According to Giels, the local human population were mostly ungrateful savages who deeply resented their integration into the Dreki Empire. They had no hope of ever mastering technology. However good-looking they were. Sunniva found herself admiring the way the human’s waist tapered down into the tight-fitting pants, and looked hurriedly away.
She’d had a few brief but perfectly amicable liaisons with other Dreki. Involvement of their respective dragons was not required outside of a formal alliance, after all. If she hadn’t been a clan heir it would have been much less problematic. But nothing lasted, not for her.
She picked up a tinge of hurt from her dragon and swiftly sent reassurance. It’s not your fault. You’re perfect. The fault was in her, as her clan had always said. She thought gloomily that offering her a non Dreki might even be intended as helpful.
“I thought your main concern about my leaving the aerie was the humans?” Sending her out with one seemed counterproductive.
Giels tossed an object in her direction. The human snapped out a hand, catching it neatly. A blaster.
“He’ll kill any human without a modifier.” Giels smiled. “Does that reassure you?”
It didn’t. Sunniva glanced out of the great window that ran across the chamber’s western wall, hoping for inspiration. The heavy golden drapes framed the sharp crags the aerie perched on as well as the distant rows of snowy peaks, and if she looked down she could see the green of the foothills dotted with the dark smudges of human settlements. The less attractive mining works and their power plants were hidden from this angle.
Storm coming. Her dragon sounded wistful as she slipped into Sunniva’s consciousness for just long enough to point out the tell-tale signs of beginning cumulus just above the ridgeline.
Her dragon’s fondness for flying in storms had given Sunniva the idea for her network’s power source. But it was useless if she couldn’t leave the aerie.