We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 5: Chapter 59: Showdown

Book 5: Chapter 59: Showdown

Howard

September 2344

Jabberwocky

Icame in fast just over the trees and landed hard on the beach in front of my assassins. A real dragon probably would have sprained or broken both ankles. My dranny interface merely sent me a mild rebuke about abusing the warranty, which I ignored.

I’d been trying for the “superhero landing,” and I like to think I pulled it off, as the members of my former military escort all jumped and then looked very alarmed.

“So who did the actual dirty?” I asked casually, scanning their faces. No poker players here—three of them were unable to suppress quick eye movements, all directed at the fourth. Gerrard, my translation interface had dubbed him.

I smiled thinly in his direction. “Well, Gerrard, I know you were just following orders, so I’m not going to rip your head off and use it for soccer practice.” I made a note to myself to look up how the interface translated soccer. “But there will be a reckoning, once all the excitement is over.” Then I changed the subject. “Meanwhile, how are we doing on preparations?”

The soldiers glanced at each other in confusion. I was not behaving as expected. Well, to be honest, I wasn’t as dead as expected, either.

Finally, Gerrard decided to just go with the flow. “Uh, we’ve got the fires started, stocked up some spare kindling, and we’ve mapped three lakes in the area that have good food stocks. Not trout exactly, but pretty good. Bigger, on average.”

“That’s because they haven’t been getting eaten by dragons for the last forever,” I replied. “By my estimates, the first wave of immigrants should be coming in within a couple of hours. Will we have places for them?”

“We’re going to drag in some dead trees and split them up for firewood. They’ll burn faster than new wood, but we’ll need the heat. It’ll be a few days around the campfire at night until the flotilla gets here, and then we can all go back to civilization. Uh … ” Gerrard squinted at me. “How did you survive, anyway?”

“I didn’t.” I gave him an evil—and I hoped cryptic—smile and pointed at the scar on my chest. “It was a good strike. Killed me instantly. But I don’t stay dead.” I waved a hand. “Never mind. I’ll take it up with Alexander. If he hasn’t already gotten himself killed from making a pass at my wife.” I shrugged, dismissing the subject. “Meanwhile, let’s get that firewood stocked up.”

*****

The first wave of civilians came in right on schedule, shepherded by a couple of soldiers from the scout group. These were the upper half of the population bell curve fitness-wise, but they were still civilians. Most dragons didn’t engage in any kind of marathon flying, and the two legs of this journey would have taken everything out of them. In fact, we were expecting at least a couple of deaths from dragons who simply couldn’t do the distance.

This group came in low, and most of the landings reminded me of blue-footed boobies from the old National Geographic episodes about the Galápagos. A lot of them simply collapsed when their feet hit the ground and lay there, not even trying to get out of the way. There were a couple of pileups, but nothing serious. We helped the more exhausted individuals over to the fire, gave them some tuev and some fresh trout to nibble on, and left them to get their breath back.

My erstwhile escort hadn’t tried anything while we were prepping, likely not having any orders to cover this situation. Plus, let’s face it, having your victim come back from the dead had to be off-putting. And now that we had several dozen potential witnesses, the time for correcting the situation was over.

“How are things at your end?” Bridget messaged me.

“Going well. First wave made it without casualties. Next group should be here in a couple of hours. How’s His Nibs?”

I could hear her smile in the reply. “He’s paying a lot of attention to me, making pretty transparent remarks about life and death and choosing your fate. What is it with men?”

“Hey, don’t blame me. I got a spear through the heart, remember?”

Instead of the expected comeback, though, I got silence. “Bridget?”

“Something’s going on, Howard. I’ve just been surrounded by Alexander and his goons. He’s got a funny look on his face, and I don’t mean hah-hah.”

“Bridget, get out of there. Now.”

“I don’t think I can. They’ve got—Howard! No! Oh my god!”

I went into panic mode. Launching myself straight up, I called up the cargo drone that we kept on standby, then flew up a half kilometer to meet it. I climbed into the hold and ordered the drone to the area of the flotilla, minimum travel time. That would require a ballistic trajectory, most of the flight above atmosphere.

“Bridget!” I messaged again. “What’s happening?”

Her reply came with an overtone of anger that I rarely heard in her voice. I’ve just gotten the big speech. It seems you are a distraction from my time and a bad influence. Bottom line, he wants me as a permanent member of the records team. He’s informed me that you are now fish food. I’m being grounded temporarily to give me time to consider, but if I don’t see the light, he’ll make it permanent. ???????

Wait, that can’t be right, I replied. “They shouldn’t be able to pull your primaries.”

“They didn’t try. They cut them. With machetes. I’ve been clipped. I think maybe Alexander didn’t want to cause me pain. Repair systems say twenty-four hours to generate new ones.”

That was the last straw. I didn’t give a good goddamn how much I upset the dragon history books. Alexander was going to get his heart punched out.

*****

I directed the drone to come in under the altitude of the flotilla, then swoop upward. As the cargo door popped open, I dropped out and did a perfect arc, coming down over the royal floater.

Practice makes perfect, and this time, my superhero landing sprayed dirt on everyone. Bridget was standing there surrounded by soldiers, facing off against Alexander in apparent midargument. Both turned to stare at me, along with all the soldiers. Only Bridget’s expression didn’t register shock, although I think I’d even startled her.

“But, but you’re … ” Alexander sputtered.

“Dead?” I finished for him. Someone must have returned to report my fate before I’d made my reappearance. So much the better. “I was. Gerrard did a good job. But I don’t stay down. Let’s see how you do.” I advanced on him, and several soldiers jumped forward to his defense.

And the cargo drone landed on them.

Not hard enough to crush them, but they’d certainly wake up with headaches. Battle-hardened or not, the rest of the soldiers scattered. Even Alexander backpedaled.

As the drone hovered in midair, camouflage off and the cargo door open, I messaged Bridget. “Go for it.”

I said to Alexander, in a voice intended to carry, “The migration is a success. You’ve done a great thing for dragons. But you’re still a bit of an asshole. I hope you’ll disband your empire now that it’s no longer needed.”

Bridget, meanwhile, made a break for the shuttle. Clipped or not, she could still generate a little lift, and dranny muscles could manage a pretty good leap. In two bounds, she was in the cargo hold. With a leap and a flap, I joined her, and the door slammed shut.

I ordered the drone to re-camouflage and launch straight up, then reached forward and gently took one of Bridget’s wings to examine the cut. She put her hand on mine and said, “It’s just a dranny, Howard. Let’s rack them and go home.”