Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel) (12 page)

Slowly, cautiously, Dawann broke the seals of her helmet and waited. A faint
hiss
sounded and she took a breath. Yes. The chamber had a breathable atmosphere. 

Removing her helmet and pressure suit, she ran her hand through her head feathers and then crossed the floor in four steps. She stopped for a moment and stared at the monolith, studying its smooth surface, then continued her exploration, walking around it until she found an indentation on the back side. Within the notch rested a headpiece attachment. She took hold of it and placed it over her earholes.
Work
, she thought, a little desperately. 

She closed her eyes. Nothing happened, but then she remembered the lights had been voice-activated. Was the monolith, too? 

“I am here,” she said in a loud voice. “Speak to me. Tell me about Dawn Stroganoff. I wish to know about her life.”

***

Dawann may have lost awareness for a few moments – she couldn’t really tell – but something made her close her eyes, made her sink into a semi-conscious state. There was no voice at the controls of the soul-catcher, no real message or explanation. Only murky images came to her; of winding streets with rectangular buildings; of a surrounding forest with tall trees, and of distant, snow-topped peaks. 

And then, quite suddenly, she knew. Complete images seized her mind, filling it with a sparkling clarity. Flagstaff, dazzling in the sunshine, the brisk mountain air softly scented with pine. Flagstaff, Arizona. 

Home
. Dawann-dracon roused and then shifted in the nano-chair. Now she was fully awake. Human Dawn had lived on Earth in a place called America. And Flagstaff –
no make that Flag, as the locals called it
– was her hometown. She sighed with happiness at all she saw, at all she was starting to remember.

She leaned forward, hands pressing against the headset, hoping she would retain everything, wishing she could comprehend it all. Images of the city and its surrounding environment came faster and then she saw human beings. A tall, dark-haired man – was that the one called
Dad
? – then a small, blonde woman with big blue eyes.
Mom
. She saw her brother next, a brown-haired boy.
Matt
. He stood in the yard, eyeing a mixed-breed terrier named
Buster
. Matt and the dog began to play together, frolicking in the snow. It was cold, so very cold, but Dawn joined in. She, Matt, and Buster ran around, getting icy-wet, throwing snowballs and laughing when one hit Matt in the center of his chest.

Then another set of memories rushed in, supplanting her previous thoughts. Human Dawn was older now, a girl of thirteen or fourteen, and it was the season called
autumn
. Blue skies overhead. Distant mountain peaks covered with patches of gold from changing aspen leaves. In brilliant sunshine, Dawn hiked in a dry streambed, away from the pressures of modern life, away from the pervasive computer culture of the early twenty-first century. The “ditch” – as kids nicknamed the streambed – was now her favorite haunt. She would roam there for hours, hiking with Buster, eyes glued to the ground, searching, always searching. 

Once she found an obsidian arrowhead, so delicately flaked it was nearly translucent, shiny black and sharp-edged, standing out against the pea gravel and gray river rocks. Coincidentally, she was reading her first big novel, her grandmother’s favorite book,
The
Source
by James Michener.

Sitting in her bedroom, dog by her side, Dawn held the beautiful arrowhead in her palm. As she read of Michener’s Tell Makor, dreaming of excavating the ruins of an ancient city, she realized she’d found the key to her future. She opened her palm, her fingers trembling, her gaze held by the arrowhead. An archeologist. Yes, she was going to be an archeologist. 

She sighed happily, determined she would dig in dusty pits and uncover the mysteries of the ages...

Dawann-dracon removed the headset, leaned back, and took a breath. The images of Human Dawn’s life had been startling. How odd it all seemed! She could scarcely imagine a world where sentient beings lived with their families as a matter of course. Where they willingly let their skin touch cold snow. Where they shared their affections with small, carnivorous beasts, with hairy, smelly, little dogs. 

And where they controlled their own fates so completely.

Dawann shook herself to action.
You must see the rest
, she thought. 

Replacing the headset, she watched Human Dawn in school, saw her move toward adulthood. There were things she understood fully, such as Dawn’s first sexual experiences, the sweet, sharp yearnings associated with mating, but there were also things she could not comprehend, like the human female’s love of chocolate – to Dawann, the impression of its taste was revolting.

Visions sharp and clear continued to pass by her inner eye. Human Dawn’s college years in Arizona. The hard work and sacrifice the young woman experienced in order to complete graduate school. A trip to a beautiful place called France, the taste of champagne – something Dawann decided she
could
love – and then back home, spending hours and hours uncovering the past in digs located in Northern Arizona. 

Then Dawann learned that two startling things occurred in the summer of 2022: a space probe found alien artifacts on the Martian moon, Phobos; and a laser beacon had sent messages to Earth, from the vicinity of the great Martian volcano, Olympus Mons, which the saurians called the volcano Karesh, or He Who Watches.

A few weeks later, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory released a photomosaic of Phobos. There, beneath the mysterious dark-red and deep blue, organically rich soil, hidden within the ancient dust-draped rills and in the endless, winding caverns, proof of extensive alien mining activity had been uncovered. 

Dawann ripped the headset from her earholes. Was that why Human Dawn went to Mars? In Dawn’s universe, the Keeper’s kind had also lived on the red planet. When humanity found traces of that ancient, alien civilization, when they investigated He Who Watches, they needed an archeologist-astronaut to help them explore.

Holy Mother She-Goddess, it makes sense now. I finally understand
. 

With trembling fingers, Dawann readjusted her headset and let the images come into her mind. Human Dawn worked at NASA now, training for the flight to Mars. Meeting the male astronaut named Gus and then
traveling in a nuclear-electric propulsion spacecraft. Looking out the window and seeing a ruddy orb against the blackness of space.

Moozrab?
Dawann asked herself, gazing at the lifeless planet, suddenly filled with unutterable sorrow. But this was not her Moozrab, not her world. In this universe, the saurians did not exist, had never existed. Moozrab was not colonized, not a world filled with thousands of saurians and their teeming minions. Instead, it was Mars, dead, dry, uninhabited, freeze-dried Mars.

Dawann rubbed her eyes, wishing she could cry. Forgotten images sprang to life, passion and knowledge crumbled to dust, then seemed to exist once more. Remembrances of both universes had come full-bloom to her senses.

Dawann-dracon tried to push her emotions aside. She knew she couldn’t give up. She had to go on, to learn more about Human Dawn. 

She sat for a moment, without moving, lost in her thoughts. How much time had passed since she entered the chamber? She turned and stared, relieved the slick-shaft stood empty. Fey, Tima, and Eshlish remained above. Now, more than anything, she wanted privacy, felt the need to learn everything about Dawn, from all points of view.

She nodded, human-style. “Hear me now,” she said aloud, speaking to the soul-catcher, hoping it would signal back in understanding. “If you have recollections of the other humans in Dawn’s life – like Gus, Lex, and Tasha – reveal their stories to me. I want to learn what happened to Dawn, to hear what happened to them all.” 

But mostly
, she thought,
I want to learn the truth
. 

Of how
I
came to be
.

PART TWO

Chapter 10

Today’s today. Tomorrow, we may be

Ourselves gone down the drain of Eternity.

~Euripides,
Alcestis

July, 2029, aboard the first manned spacecraft to Mars, called Destiny.

Eyes searching the infinite darkness of space, Dawn Stroganoff gazed from one of
Destiny’s
viewing windows. Sighing to herself, she watched the gleaming stars, which washed her in a faint, silvery light. During the previous half year, she’d shared close quarters with six other crewmen, and it was good to have a moment alone for some quiet reflection.

She held her Google glasses in her hand, then decided to put them away in a pocket. It was nice to detach from the ever-present Web, to look out at the universe with what was now called “naked vision,” minus the lens which gave her constant contact to the plethora of connections via recorded Internet and social media messages, the distance between Mars and Earth delaying instant access.

She became aware, quite suddenly, of the faint rumbling caused by the ship’s rotating, spokelike hub, which created an artificial gravity. It was an all-pervasive sound, yet she rarely noticed it; much like the ticking of a clock, her brain blotted it out.

Dawn breathed deeply, listening. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself standing in the viewing tunnel, one of the four portals connecting the spacecraft’s habitat sections to the slowly moving hub. The image in her thoughts changed, drawing back to hover, godlike, above the ship, and she saw everything as if from afar: her pale face at the window, a fragile human being going ‘round and ‘round, like someone stuck on a giant Ferris wheel. 

Or like a caged rat racing in place on its wheel.

“There’s a solar storm comin’. You’ve got about fifteen minutes to get into the safe room before you’re fried.”

The easy Texas drawl jarred Dawn’s thoughts. She faced Commander Gus Granberg. 

“Should be one helluva storm,” he added. He removed his Google glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then glanced through the window, gaze sure as he watched the stars. 

“I was just standing here, thinking.” Dawn’s voice faded as she caught the hint of his smile. She could almost hear him saying,
You know, don’t you, that daydreaming’s a waste of time
.

Well, Gus ol’ boy
, she thought,
it’s my way of staying sane on this hunk of space junk
. As she followed him inside the safe room, she was determined to give as good as he did. 

“There’s time before the solar flares hit,” he said, “but stay in here. And that’s an order, Dawn.”

On impulse, she saluted. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

He put his glasses back on, then turned, his face giving nothing away now, the consummate military man. He stood tall and straight, with close-cropped blond hair and hazel eyes, the brown of his irises flecked with bits of gold and emerald-green.

Her thoughts veered, and she visualized a creek back home, the same bewitching color as the green in his irises. She had to admit this totally caught her off-guard, since she thought she had her emotions under control. Yet there it was again, that intense feeling of homesickness – mingled with what? Attraction? 

Get a grip. You’re just lonely for Arizona
, she berated herself.
Besides, Gus doesn’t seem all that interested in you
.

Dawn took her place at the table, ignoring the other astronauts as she let her memories take over. She visualized her home near Indian Gardens in Oak Creek Canyon, with its lovely view of a bend in the creek and the emerald pool where she loved to swim in summertime. It was a nice, old house with a massive river rock fireplace, overstuffed furniture, and large picture windows. She’d lived in it off and on for six years, when she wasn’t training in Houston or Florida. There, along with her housemates, a pair of mutts named Peter and Wendy, she had a casual, kick-off-your-shoes existence, which suited her just fine. 

But now, she was far removed from everything she held dear. She looked in the direction of Earth, imagining she could stare through the ship’s bulkhead and see the faint, blue point of light. From her vantage point in space, Earth would seem tiny now, so distant.

“Well, were you plannin’ to keep us in suspense?” Gus asked, breaking into her thoughts.

She glanced around. The rest of her crewmates were watching her, too. 

“About what?” she asked, mystified.

“You said this morning you’d tell a story about one of your ancestors,” Gus reminded her. “Remember? We’d just gotten that message off to Sagan Base.”

That prompted Dawn’s memory. Had they received a reply yet? Most
likely they had, but she’d have to check just the same. Sometimes the scientists stuck on asteroids tended to be a little lax in their duties. The bunch at Sagan Base on Eros was the worst. Dawn had a theory; too much near-zero gravity and space sex dulled their minds.

“Your story?” Gus asked.

“Oh, that.” Dawn rose and went to the galley.
Gus must want to play nice now
, she decided.
He knows me too well. Just get me talking about history
.

Standing before the replicator, so-called because it resembled the ones from the Star Trek series, she searched the recipe screen and then touched the icon for Beef Stroganoff. It seemed a fitting choice, since the ancestral tale was about her family’s famous recipe.

“Hey, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Gus said.

Nodding, Dawn watched as the replicator’s 3-D printer combined molecules to create the Stroganoff, even to the level of reproducing its texture and delicious smell. A chime indicated when it was done, and she placed the meal on the table before Gus.

“So, you want a story?” Dawn asked him as she returned to the replicator and started her own meal. “Okay. In the Middle Ages, I had an ancestor who was skinned alive.”

“Whoa!”

Gus’s response didn’t surprise her. Upon relating her family’s history, she’d often seen such a reaction: at first a show of shock, then total fascination. 

“You’re positive you want to hear this?” Dawn asked, as she put her plate on the table across from him and took a seat. “It’s gruesome. Maybe after we eat.”

His expression relaxed. “Nah, go ahead. Tell it now. Anyway, there’s plenty of time.”

That made sense to Dawn. Until the solar storm ended, they had to stay behind the safe room’s water-filled walls, which provided the only effective energy absorber against things like solar flares and gamma rays. Besides, they were all on edge after six months locked in this tin can. Maybe a good, old-fashioned B.S. session would do everyone some good. 

She could take the lead with the Stroganoff story. It’d be like they were all in summer camp telling scary tales around the fire. She tried to hide her smile as she took her first taste of the creamy dish.

“I didn’t realize your family had such a long history,” Gus said.

“It was long
and
illustrious history.” Natasha Antipova’s heavy Russian accent cut through the air. Tasha placed a bowl of salad on the table, then looked at Gus. “I am thinking you must learn more about history.” She scowled. “Particularly glorious history of my country. When you told me you had never heard of Pushkin––”

The skin around Gus’s eyes crinkled as he fought laughter. “I know, you almost up and died.”

To make a point, Tasha ran a hand through her prematurely white hair. “Almost,” she said.

Dawn saw Lex Smith give Gus a sympathetic look. Lex, the crew’s oral surgeon, shared a long marriage and two grown sons with Tasha. Although he was his own man and never one to let his overbearing Russian wife bully himself or the others, he held his tongue now. Dawn understood his logic; why throw fuel on the fire while they were all trapped in the confines of the safe room?

In the meantime, Tasha and Gus exchanged sardonic smiles, taking each other’s measure. 

“So, Dawn, how come you’ve never told us this story before?” Gus asked.

“She told
me
,” Tasha said, not giving up.

“Like I said before, it’s pretty gross,” Dawn said. “Not good dinner conversation.”

Gus held his fork out, intent on spearing a piece of beef. “Well, that shouldn’t stop you,” he said, looking around at the crew. “Ya’all have strong stomachs, don’t you? After all, how many months have we been eating this stuff?” 

Tasha deliberately heaped salad onto her plate. “In addition to all my other duties––”

“Hey, Doc, lighten up. No one’s asking you to give up your medical career for a permanent spot in hydroponics,” Gus said.

“I realize that,” Tasha replied flatly, “but I hear no one else complaining about my salads, Eric Gustav Granberg.” 

Dawn knew if there was one thing Gus hated, it was his full name. He sat there, saying nothing, but his eyes had that glint she knew so well.

Gus turned and gave Dawn a forced, yet charming, smile. “Tell your story.”

She smiled back. “Okay, my ancestor was a Tartar tribesman who refused to convert to Islam. He left his people and joined up with the Russians. Eventually, he married a Russian woman.”

“Smart fellow,” Lex interjected as he gave Tasha a wry look.

Dawn nodded. “My ancestor... I mean the guy had a
really
bad day. His former people captured him. They carried a deep hatred for him, because he’d rejected their way of life, so they skinned him alive.”

“Poor bastard!” Harry looked up from his food. 

A Canadian paleontologist, Harry Wong was not usually this demonstrative. Scholarly and a bit nerdy, the half-Chinese, half-English paleontologist was quite handsome, in a Keanu-Reeves-when-he-was-young sort of way.

“Why’d they skin him?” Harry asked.

“Hmm.” Dawn mulled this over. “Two reasons, I guess. It was a horribly painful death – and they apparently felt my ancestor deserved such an end – and also because the Tartars believed if you were executed in a bloody way, you lost your soul. You couldn’t go to Tartar heaven. Interestingly enough, the Stroganoffs decided to have a recipe created to honor the first ancestor. It was
the
thing to do, to have a dish named after your family, like Noodles Romanoff.” Dawn smiled at the co-pilot, Jean-Michel Gonin. “So, to make a long story short, the Stroganoffs hired a chef from France.”

“
Fantastique
. Even then, the French were the best chefs in the world.” Jean-Michel had been half-listening to the conversation while monitoring the ship’s control room with a virtual reality, or VR, headset. 

“The chef was told the family history,” Dawn went on. “He learned about the flayed ancestor. That’s why the strips of beef are in Beef Stroganoff, to honor the flesh cut from my ancestor’s body.” With a grin, she dug into her meal and popped another forkful into her mouth.

Gus stared at her and then pushed away from the table. “Damn,” he muttered, making a face.

A deep, throaty laugh filled the air. “Don’t tell me you can’t finish, Commander,” said Kristina Jefferson in her soft, lovely drawl. 

Dawn smiled as Kris, the crew’s planetary geologist, removed her dish from the table. Tall and pretty, she had flawless cocoa skin and beautiful brown eyes, which she tried to hide behind a pair of antique, yet Google adapted, horn-rimmed glasses, the shape of the frames not remotely suitable for her face. But the pretense of plainness didn’t work. As Kris moved around the room, the men stared anyway. Even nerdy Harry could be seen casting her an occasional, furtive glance.

After dinner, the conversation moved on to everyday topics. Then, over chocolate cake and some of Tasha’s smoky-flavored Russian Caravan tea, Dawn and her fellow scientists watched recorded news from Earth. Meanwhile, Gus and Jean-Michel monitored the solar storm by interfacing with the interactive computer display projected on the now cleared-off table.

“Houston.” The Frenchman softly spoke into his headset, while his fingers moved over the tabletop, working the computer by touch. “Houston, this is
Destiny
.
If you read, we are all clear. The solar storm has ended. Do you copy?” 

Because of the distance between Earth and Mars, it would take a little over nineteen minutes for the message to reach Mission Control. By then, the pilots would assess whether any electronic equipment had been damaged by the solar radiation. Repairs would be the first order of business should anything be amiss, but if all went as planned and the electronic systems were intact, the astronauts would soon be back in the midst of preparing for the Mars landing. 

As the ship approached the red planet, the pilots used virtual reality and the computer interface system to rehearse energy saving maneuvers called aerocapture and aerobraking. After despinning the spacecraft, they would dip its aerodynamically designed nose repeatedly into the upper atmosphere for aerocapture. This would utilize air friction to place the ship in a closed orbit around Mars. 

Then the lander
Valiant
would separate from the
Destiny
and use the aerodynamic braking procedure to slow its descent to the Martian surface. At that point, parachutes would deploy and drop the ship onto the landing site, near the robotic cargo barge that had preceded them. The first order of business after that was to establish a base for their year-and-a-half-long exploration of Mars.