Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology (38 page)

Formed by the dragons, Accord was a unity of beings living in harmony among worlds settled by dragonkind. Peace, kindness, respect of the planet, and selflessness were expected by all who joined. Some species could conform. Some couldn't. Mother avoided answering the calls of those who sang utter discord.

Several types of Uikeas assisted on the ship. It had taken millennia for them to establish Accord. Their devotion to Mother became more clear. If not for Darlig, they would have been forgotten by the universe long ago.

“A lesson I cherish. Thank you, I feel less afraid.” Sita examined the brown flesh covering her frail limbs. “I don't have scales or charming horns on my head. I'm not Uikeas.”

“Uikeas left this world eons ago with me. The dominant species of this epoch calls themselves humans.”

Sita glanced out the transparent hull. A planet of soul-coddling blue spun outside the ship. Vaporous wisps spread from vortexes over large areas of frozen ground and icy seas. “Are you sure life remains?”

“Mm-hmm. Their pleas resonate through the solar strands. Our telepathic link will enable you to hear the strands sung by the humans, and the Uikeas will give you a way to speak directly to me.”

“Good.” Still, Sita remained uncertain she could accomplish such an enormous task as saving an entire people. Perhaps if she met the humans in a more temperate season, her chances of succeeding would rise. “Is this planet always so cold?”

“The world below is experiencing an ice age it will never recover from. Not until their sun's core collapses and the heat expands the star into a red giant. Then this world will be vaporized. Soon.”

Sita shuddered at the idea of destruction and darkness. “What are the humans like?”
 

“I will tell you as you dress.” A path lit on the floor, snaking out of the Chamber of Darlig and deeper into the ship. Sita followed it.

The great solar wings of the starcraft spread marvelously on either side of the hull just outside the chamber. Instead of white, they were blue sparking with gold, billowing with the solar winds. They and the hull absorbed starshine, enabling the ship to hook into the solar strands to travel the galaxy. The spacecraft's systems were powered by suns and planets rich in hydrogen. Air and biological matter were recycled. Mother could fly forever among nebulae and moons.

“The rhythmic strands sent out by most humans will welcome you, but not all,” Mother said, serenading Sita's every step. “I sense only one barrow, one remaining center of civilization. Dreamers live among them, and savages unable to imagine a future any better than the life they have. Their notes on the strands mingle and merge.”

“The savages are my challenge?” Sita stepped into an alcove with copper walls. The metal conducted heat and a buzz traveled up through her feet. She giggled at the way the energy tickled and pranced to a bit of carpet shaped like a lily pad.

“Determining who will accept your guidance and what to do with those who won't is the challenge.”

“How will I know? What if I choose wrong?”

“At your core, you are dragon. Our hearts do not fail if we keep them attuned to the star songs.”

“I'll do my best, Mother.”

“You're not alone. The Uikeas and I will help you. When you succeed, you'll be reborn as a dragon and join our kin on the homeworld.”

Sita wanted nothing more. To be trapped on the cold world below and share the fate of its residents would break her heart. Dragons were meant to soar.

Two Uikeas entered from a doorway on the far side, garments draped over their reptilian arms. Like Sita, they had two arms and two legs. One had three stunted horns and a tough, leathery frill around its face. Another had bony plates trailing down the center of its skull. A third sported a rounded crest over its nose.

Their amber eyes blinked in faces resembling dragonkind, and scales as white as the icy planet graced their bodies with pockets of gray shading their features in steep angles. No beaks or naked wings, yet the shape of the Uikeas suggested they had descended from the beasts Mother had rescued long ago.

The dark suits the Uikeas wore glowed with energy from distant stars. Conduits throughout the spacecraft fed power to the suits, which linked the Uikeas to Darlig. They knew what needed to be done on the ship without being asked.

The Uikeas handed Sita a pair of pants. The slinky material glided on and warmed her as well as the sun lamps in the nursery. The legs ballooned out and tapered at the ankles. Then came a matching top in the same shade of steely blue. Fur lined her boots, muff, and hat. The dark amethyst cloak took Sita's breath away. Stars had been embroidered on it in gold. They pulsed with starshine, but the Uikeas didn't drape it over her shoulders yet.

They called and whistled into the corridor. Two dragon hatchlings flew in and wrapped themselves around Sita's arms like sleeves, a dragon sweater, and laid their heads on her shoulders, puffing their heated breaths on her neck.

“The hatchlings will strengthen your telepathic link with Darlig and allow you to speak directly to her and us. Just touch your nose to one of theirs,” the taller Uikeas said.

The stunning cloak was placed onto her shoulders over the two little dragons. They snuggled in tight and tucked in their wings. Sita fastened the buttons. The zing of energy from the hatchlings and the technology in the cloak buoyed her confidence enough to leave the room.

The Uikeas attended her to the hatch. Out the diamond-shaped view panel, the solar wings above shifted, shielding Mother from the brunt of the heat of reentry. The starcraft alighted into a valley as gently as a petal on the wind.

 
“The sensors in the cloak will lead you to the barrow where you'll find the humans. It will feed you, keep you from freezing, and allow you to show the humans their new home. When you lift the sides up like wings, the cloak connects to the ship's data systems.”

The door slid upward, ushering in a biting wind and a squall of snow. For a moment, Sita's foot hovered over the threshold. Her breaths came rapidly, and she found it hard to swallow.

With the softest of pushes, the Uikeas sent her out. A quiet click announced the shutting of the hatch. Sita gripped the frame of the copper-hued entry, and her gaze followed the lines of the ship upward, taking in the breadth of transparent and copper hull. She felt so tiny. The head of the vessel at the top, thirty stories high, was where she had been born. The hatch where she stood was a toe on the great dragon ship.

The Uikeas waved at Sita from the window in the doorway. She didn't want to go, but couldn't disappoint her mother, and she did want the chance to be reborn as a dragon. Tucking her hands inside the warm muff, she faced the horizon and set out.

The air smelled sharp and damp. A plain of ice ridged by the constant wind led to menacing cliffs. She would have to climb those to find the human barrow. Slipping and stumbling, it took all of her concentration to ascend to the summit where she stopped for the night.

A shallow cave provided shelter from the wind, but not from her worries. What if the humans didn't want to be guided to safety? What if they were incapable of reaching Accord?

She strained to sense their strands and failed. “What am I doing wrong?” The hatchlings touched her nose, connecting her with Darlig.

“You'll taste the human song when you're closer to their barrow. Hush and sleep, daughter. You need your strength.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Sita did her best to obey, but slept little, tossing and turning. She rose before the sun and made the descent to the other side. Out on the ice sheet that appeared to never end, she held her breath, listening for a note, only hearing wind and drifting snow. Her steps grew heavy.

The cloak and hatchlings nudged her east. Sita trod through a desolate terrain of glaciers. If she veered in the wrong direction, the hatchlings squeezed her arms and one section of her cloak burst with a pop of energy. It took her a few tries to figure out the surging section meant to not go that way. “Thank you,” she whispered to the little dragons. Their warm exhales bolstered her spirits. They believed in her.

Carefully navigating over a crevasse, Sita found a trail. At last she heard a hum, a song of sorrow. Some of the notes soared to bittersweet hope. Others gonged in anger and resignation. Guiding the humans wouldn't be easy.

The trail led up an imposing wall of snow. Sita couldn't see beyond the first twist of the path. She started on it, concentrating on how she placed her boots on the treacherous footing. The strands of song grew louder. She rushed around the first curve to greet them and met a spear tip. Startled, she fell.

A hulk lumbered over her, a formidable tower. The furs matched the hues of ice and snow perfectly and encased every inch of his or her body. Through a small slit in the hood, one glaring eye scoured Sita's vulnerable form. “Who are you?” The voice was low, feral, and gruff, contradicting the vibrating aria emanating from the soul.

“Sita. I come from—”

“There are no other cities. You're not from this one. I've never seen you.” The spear jabbed at her cloak. “How can you be from nowhere?”

“I'm from—”

“The Synod will hear your lies, for nothing else could tumble from your lips. They're as blue as your cloak. Why aren't you dead?”

“I—”

“Save it for the Synod.” A fur-encased hand hauled her onto her feet. The human pushed her in front. “Follow the trail.”

She obeyed, holding her tongue and concealing her quaking nerves under her cloak. If all humans were so barbaric, her mission would fail. How could she battle such violent natures?

For an eternity, she climbed the steep slope. Up, up, and up. The heightened edges of the carved path shielded her from the buffeting winds. She was grateful for the protection, and more grateful when the passage ended at a doorway. It glowed with golden light promising warmth. Above it towered more cliffs and above those, a glass dome.

The human's spear jabbed into a small recess beside the door. The entry swung open. More golden light and a lobby carved into the ice greeted Sita. Contouring waves made an artful design resembling the lines of Mother. Sita smiled at the surprise and stepped aside to allow the human to take the lead.

He swept off his hood, revealing long, dark hair, skin the color of bronze, and a stern face framed by a dark beard and mustache. His facial hair had been well groomed and trimmed and didn't tumble as wildly as the hair on his head. His steep cheeks accentuated the lively spirit sparking in his dark eyes. With a surly gesture, he steered her to a wall and punched it to reveal another door as white as the snow. She never would have known it was there. It creaked open into a glorious structure of glass and light.

Sita gasped at the unexpected patterns of trees and gardens on the glass panels above and basked in the heat they sent into her frozen bones. The man sat on a bench and removed his coat and leggings.

The pleasant strands became more mixed with disharmony. Notes would clash and fall away, then blare for several minutes. Standing still, she tried to pick out the dominant song, but failed. The humans sang sour and sweet, inspiring and despairing.

“You can leave your things here. No one will take them,” he said. Uplifting notes surrounded him, tones heard in the strands that had brought Mother here. How could he be both savage and tender?

She nodded and flashed a meek smile. She wanted him to trust her. “Do you have a name?” On a peg next to his coat, she hung her hat and muff. She undid the buttons on her cloak, but left it draped over her shoulders, keeping the hatchlings concealed.

Tall and of a wiry build, his muscles twitched when he shrugged. His cheeks tinged with pink. “Cero.”

Her fingers played in the colors streaming from the glass ceiling. She smelled the warmth of earth and the freshness of thriving flora. These things harmonized. “You've learned to harness the power of the sun. You surprise me, Cero.”

His lips tugged upwards, and he waved at her to follow. “Is that why you've come? For technology? The Synod will be thrilled to hear another pocket of civilization survives. Unless you mean to attack?” His eyes narrowed. “No.” He held up a hand to silence her. “Save it for the gathering.” He paused at the stairwell curving down into the city and used a horn carved into the smooth, shellacked wood. His words boomed through the dome. “Calling Synod to order.”

The banister appeared to be an extension of a living tree, winding its way down stairs fluted like lily pads. Water gurgled below, and the humid warmth chased away the frigid vistas outside. The humans harnessing solar and geothermal energies contradicted the sour notes in the strands they sung. How could they be both barbaric and civilized?

“I'm in trouble.” She spoke only to herself and reached for a hatchling's tail. The little dragon purred, and she recalled Mother's lessons. “Our hearts don't fail.” Sita clung to the advice and the fact the humans couldn't wish to die. Their pleas for salvation entwined into the solar strands were what had lured Mother here. Mother was never wrong. “Never.” Sita picked up the pace to keep up with Cero.

Plants lined the walls of the seven levels, gardens of color and nourishment. Birds sang and flitted with butterflies amid crops and blooms. Humans tended to them dressed in hues of terra cotta and ivory. The bits of fabric had been artfully stitched together, mimicking vines and flowers, matching the curves of the staircase. Sita estimated a population of two thousand.

“I've come to fulfill your wishes,” she dared to say to Cero. Her hand slid smoothly over the varnished wood. “A future not determined by the death throes of your star.”

He stopped short and spun on his heels. He studied her thoroughly from foot to the top of her head. “My star? You mean the sun? Isn't it your sun too?” A taste of hope laced his words and was swept away as quickly as an unformed wish. Again he raised a hand to silence her. “Save it—”

“For the Synod. What is the Synod?” The little glimmer in his tone could lead to success. She had to keep him talking.

“A panel of citizens who make decisions for the survival of us all. They make rules, ration food, allot residences and resources.”