We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 5: Chapter 44: Investigation

Book 5: Chapter 44: Investigation

Howard

January 2344

Jabberwocky

Bridget wanted to explore more of the planet, but I was concerned enough about this Alexander business to want to investigate further. After some discussion, we compromised.

We started our day by finding a large updraft near the Hunter, which we would consider our home floater and base of operations for the moment. Riding the updraft, we were able to climb to an altitude of almost five klicks. A real dragon would be gasping at that height, but still able to operate. We could have gone higher, but it would have attracted attention.

From this height, the horizon was almost two hundred and fifty kilometers away, although, of course, things disappeared in the haze far short of that distance.

“Lots of haze,” Bridget commented. “Probably volcanic. I count”—she paused, turning her head—“forty-two individual hotspots. That’s a lot of activity.”

“Kind of surprised there’s as much complex life as we’re seeing,” I replied.

“The Siberian Traps caused the Permian extinction two hundred and fifty million years ago on Earth,” Bridget said, glancing at me. “That was way worse, and there was already complex life.” She paused. “That was a relatively sudden event. Something similar is happening here, it looks like, but much more gradually. It would explain why so many life-forms have taken to the air. It’s the only reason I can think of for a species to risk hydrogen flotation.”

Bridget laughed and circled again. “I see twelve floaters, randomly distributed, and it looks like a compact group over in that direction. A dozen or more floaters, I think.” She pointed to illustrate. “Want to bet that’s Alexander’s ‘nation’?”

I followed her pointing finger with my gaze and frowned. “That’s more or less where we came down on our first outing. Those could have been Alexander’s scouts who chased us.”

“Or scouts from a nearby floater thinking we were Alexander’s scouts. Either way, it’s an explanation.”

I paused and tried to keep a straight face. “So what do you call a collection of floaters?”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “I suppose you have a suggestion.”

“A flotilla?”

A sigh was her only answer. I considered that a victory.

“So what do we do?” she said, changing the subject. “Just fly in and introduce ourselves?”

I started to answer, then stopped and squinted. Something was moving in the distance. I activated telescopic vision and zoomed in.

“It seems the decision is being made for us,” I said, pointing. She followed my line, squinted, and went silent. After a few moments, she turned to me. “Looks like those ‘sympathizers’ were more like scouts. That’s a raiding party.”

Sure enough, what looked like a couple hundred dragons were flying a ground-hugging route that seemed aimed at the Hunter. I suppose there could have been a more innocent explanation, but it seemed unlikely. “Should we head back?” I asked. “Help defend?”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Bridget replied. “Let’s wait and watch. We can always head in afterward. We have a legitimate reason to be there, so the worst they might do is toss us out.” She hesitated. “I hope.”

Within minutes, the raiding party was spotted, judging from the sudden increase in activity on the floater. But by then, it was too late. The attackers flowed up from underneath the massive floating island, relying on it for protection and cover. At the last moment, they flicked up over the edge and came in to land, spears in hand, where defenders were setting up with something more like pikes.

As someone who grew up in twentieth-century America, I wasn’t used to seeing such levels of direct violence—at least not outside of TV or theaters. Even from a distance, the fighting was brutal and unmerciful. A lot of dragons died. A lot more would be crippled for life, assuming they didn’t die of infections. Dragon medical knowledge was at about the same level as any Iron Age civilization—a lot of ad hoc procedures, most of which were as likely to be harmful as helpful, or just flat-out wrong.

The fighting lasted perhaps ten minutes. The attackers had targeted all three villages at the same time, and their timing was impeccable. A few dragons had fled, many hadn’t fought at all, and the Alexandrians didn’t seem interested in those individuals. Thank the universe they didn’t seem to intend some kind of pogrom against the residents.

Once things cooled off, we flew in and landed at our village. A couple of Alexandrians, easily identifiable from their bright-blue and white armbands, came over to intercept us. We found ourselves facing a half dozen or so spearpoints. “What’s your business?” one of them said.

“Uh, we stayed here last night. We’re just passing through.” Bridget gestured vaguely up at the hotel pods. “You don’t seem about to burn things down, so I thought our hotel might still be in business.”

The leader snorted and brought his spear to parade rest. The others followed suit. “True enough,” he said. “The Hunter is under new management, that’s all. Mind your manners and keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you, and you can go about your affairs.”

We nodded to them and headed very carefully and slowly to our tree. A quick hop and we were at our hotel pod. “So what now?” Bridget asked.

“We should maybe nose around. Carefully!” I rubbed my snout speculatively. “Wouldn’t want to have it cut off for being a snoop.”

*****

Things were settling down. The dead had been taken care of—apparently, the corpses were thrown into pits on the floater’s topside and became part of its diet—and survivors had been bandaged up as much as possible. Well, poulticed. They didn’t really have bandages. Or antibiotics. I expected the body count to rise for another few days.

The Alexandrians had garrisoned the town, and presumably the other two, but other than that, they seemed to be mostly standing around playing tourist. However, I noted that the Hunter had changed course and was now running an ungainly tack across the prevailing wind, in the general direction of that knot of floaters we’d seen from above. Joining the flotilla, perhaps?

Things appeared very calm in the village. Once the proprietors had realized it would be business as usual, they’d gone back to, um, business as usual. Customers were eating at kiosks, buying food at the market, bartering with shop owners for goods, and so on. Even some of the occupying army were engaging in some personal commerce.

I accepted two cups of tuev from the proprietor of the kiosk, then paused and looked around. “This all seems very peaceful,” I said to him. “Is this normal?”

He shook his head. “Don’t think so. I’ve heard about the Alexandrians setting fire to entire floaters in retaliation for resistance and putting entire populations to death. This sure doesn’t fit.”

“Maybe the tales are exaggerated?”

He gave me a hard look. “How do you exaggerate burning down a floater? Doesn’t seem like something you could do partway. And the descriptions I’ve heard—well, they sounded more like eyewitness accounts than fanciful tales, you know?”

I nodded and grunted out a “huh.” After pausing for a sip of tuev, I added, “I guess we’ll find out one way or the other soon enough.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They’re steering the Hunter toward the Alexandrian fleet,” I replied. “Or what I assume is their fleet. We were up high in an updraft when the attack came, and we could see a large knot of floaters close together. That’s the direction the raid came from.”

“Bunch of floaters close together? They don’t normally stay together. Not like batlings, bunching up in a tight flock.”

“One more mystery,” I muttered, and took my tuev back to where Bridget was sitting.