Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel) (7 page)

Mem turned to his mate. “Do you suppose Jool and Tima are with Vash?” Then he explained to Dawann, “Vash-dracon is our assistant, and she’s usually the first to partake in the noon meal. Perhaps she took Jool and Tima to eat.”

“May I examine your display cases?” Dawann asked. 

“Yes, Your Highness, of course you may,” Mem said. 

Dawann moved to the first display case. Resting inside was a fossil ammonite, made extraordinary by the creature’s spiral shell, which had been infiltrated with a golden metal.

Pyrite
, Dawann thought.
The metal is iron pyrite
.

But how had she known this? Human Dawn wasn’t a scientist––

Or was she? 

Dawann’s heart began thumping in excitement as she stepped to the
next display case. It held something quite different from the first case: several small picks, some finely haired brushes, a magnifying glass, a digging stick, and an old, scratched trowel. She yearned to feel them in her hands. 

Fey-dracon moved in beside her. “I used those tools on Shurrr. I unearthed the fossilized remains of our ancestral species – very rewarding work. I was a young scientist then, just a few years out of school.” Fey touched a claw to the glass, pointing. “Each has a different function.”

“I know how to use them,” Dawann said, amazed by the admission. “I can’t explain this – not yet, at least – but I believe I was once a scientist like you. I did this in my former existence as a human.”

“
Human
?” Mem asked. “Excuse me, Your Highness, but what––?” 

“Mem,” Fey-dracon interrupted, wafting a nervous scent. “Go back, close the door, and lock it.”

He stood there, perplexed. 

“Please, Mem. It is imperative no one hears what I must say to you now.”

He stared hard at Fey, whose gaze had grown steadfast and sober, and then walked to the door. After quickly surveying the hallway, Mem secured the lock and rejoined them. “All right. We’re alone,” he said as his gaze shifted from Dawann to Fey. “Now, would someone please tell me what’s going on? What’s this about another existence? And what is a
human
?”

Dawann took a breath, then exhaled, seeking to calm her nerves. “I believe that something – my mind or my soul – once existed somewhere else. I was a
human
, the name for my species in a language called
English
. Apparently, it was my birth language. It also seems to me it was the common language used by international scientists.” She looked into Mem’s eyes. “Do you understand any of this?”

“About the common language... yes, I do. We scientists use––”

“Mem, Dawann-dracon needs our help,” Fey cut in. “She believes our mammalian clone is a human, too, and that she was once like him.”

“What? She knows about
him
!” The blood drained from Mem’s face, making it the palest shade of green.

“Yes,” Fey said. “Tima told her about him.” 

“I can’t believe this! Tima had no right to betray your confidence,” Mem said in a panicked tone.

“She meant no harm,” Fey retorted.

“Mem, please, I can be trusted,” Dawann insisted. “I want to join your rebellion.”  

Wide-eyed, he asked, “
My
rebellion?”

Dawann caught his scent, his fear unmasked, yet his gaze had locked on hers, betraying his curiosity.

“Mem,” Fey reassured, “it’s all right. She knows.”

Dawann nodded, fully aware of the gesture’s alien meaning. Instantly, she saw a flicker in Mem’s eyes, and she guessed he had seen nodding before, perhaps as an instinctive gesture of the human clone. “Please, say you’ll help me, Mem-rax. I never knew my own parents, not like your Jool. But I came from your lab, didn’t I? Perhaps, in a way, because you had a hand in my creation, I am also
your
child.”

Fey let out a little cry. Mem glanced at his mate, then turned back to Dawann. “But––”

“No buts, Mem,” Fey said. “We must help her.” She looked into Dawann’s eyes and gave a soft trill. “I remember the day your heart started beating. I stood at your incubator, watching you.”

Mem took Fey’s hand. “Yes, I remember. I was there, also,” he told Dawann.

Dawann wished she could weep for joy. “Thank you. I have so much to tell you. My visions are incomplete, but perhaps, with your help, I’ll understand them soon.”

Fey indicated three chairs. “Sit down and we will talk, my child.”

The words echoed in Dawann’s thoughts:
My child, my child
.

For the first time in her life, she felt as though she might be part of something good and healthy and fine, as if she were on the brink of being healed and made whole, as if she truly, finally belonged.

Mem and Fey had created her, nurtured her in her infancy, and they were helping her now.
But
, Dawann wondered,
do I actually belong here with them, or, for that matter, anywhere in this universe?

She caught Fey’s sympathetic gaze and felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, together, they’d soon find the answer.

***

Mem and Fey exchanged a long look after Dawann finished her story. 

“Do you have a picture of the alien clone?” Dawann asked hopefully. “Perhaps, if I could see him, I could compare his appearance with my own visions.”

“In truth, I do not believe he is an alien,” Mem said.

“What?” Dawann asked in surprise.

“You see, Your Highness, after years of study, I am convinced his DNA evolved on Shurrr, just as ours did. We can compare it with the Keeper’s genetic structure, which is most assuredly alien, because the
orientation of the Keeper’s amino acids is right-handed. Amino acids in cells can exist in either right-twisting or left-twisting versions. But life in our Solar System uses only the left, with the exception of a few right-handed, acid-loving species of bacteria on Shurrr. The mammalian clone’s amino acids follow the left-handed orientation; again, just like ours. The clone also has five digits at the end of each limb. Nearly all land vertebrates – creatures with backbones – evolved from ancestors that possessed limbs with five digits.” He waved his right hand, with its trio of clawed fingers. “Even
our
ancestors had five. We’ve simply lost them in a process called evolutionary reduction. So, I’m convinced the clone evolved on Shurrr. He is somehow distantly related to us.”

“But how could that be possible?” Dawann asked.

“I do not know. It’s a mystery.” Mem looked at Fey. “Tell her your theories about the amber fossil.”

“Well, I considered two possible explanations to explain the DNA in the amber fossil,” Fey began. “I wondered if it had been left by an alien race of spacefarers, who had explored Shurrr millions of years ago. I also speculated it was the last remnant population of intelligent beings, who had evolved on Shurrr before our own kind.”

“That would explain the DNA connection, wouldn’t it?” Dawann asked.

“Perhaps,” Fey said. “But no one ever found ruins or other artifacts indicating an ancient civilization, predating our own, had existed on Shurrr, with the exception of what I found, which comprised only a few objects. I have to agree with Mem. We have a mystery here.”

Mem slapped the arm of the nano-chair. “Enough of this. There are more practical matters to address.” He turned to Fey. “Shall I show her?”

“Show me what?” Dawann asked.

“You asked to see the clone’s picture. Well, we can do better than that.” Mem continued to study Fey’s expression as he repeated, “Shall I show her?”

Fey gave Mem a grunt of acknowledgement. “I suppose you must,” she said. “We must let her see him, so she can determine once and for all if our clone is the same species as her intelligent mammal.”

Mem-rax moved to an unobtrusive corner of the office, which had paneled walls of a highly polished, blond, knotty wood. He touched a spot on one of the wooden panels, and the wall swung inward, revealing a hidden chamber. 

Trembling with excitement, Dawann rose and went to the door of the secret room. Inside stood a saurian-sized, gray monolith, a glass display
case, and a nano-chair. Upon closer inspection, she realized the monolith was equipped with a virtual retinal display headset, designed to “paint” laser beam images onto the back of the viewer’s eyeball. 

A curiosity rose in Dawann, and she asked herself,
Am I going to watch the clone through some sort of virtual reality transmission?
Ignoring her racing heart, ignoring the smell of her own pheromones, she inched forward until she was within touching range of the monolith. Just then, she recalled how she had once wondered if Gus’s DNA had been responsible for the clone. It was a tantalizing thought, but undoubtedly a remote possibility.

She looked at the glass display case, hoping to find the amber Fey had found on Shurrr. To her disappointment, the case was empty. 

“Where is the amber fossil?” Dawann asked Fey. 

“We had to partially destroy the amber in order to retrieve the DNA sample that created the clone. What remains of it is locked away in our laboratory on Shurrr. The plaque is kept there, also.”

“The plaque?” asked Dawann.

“Yes,” Fey said. “I’ll explain it in a moment. Since we could not risk anyone finding out about them, there is a little trick.” Fey reached toward the display case.

It was the first time Dawann noticed a diamond ring on Fey’s right hand. The paleontologist touched the ring to the top of the glass case and stood back. A transparent, fluorescent-green cube appeared inside the case. As if suspended by invisible wires, the object floated in mid-air.

Fey explained, “I found this ring at the excavation site after I uncovered the other artifacts. It was just before the Alpha Nu’s visit, and I barely had time to obliterate all evidence of the dig. Oh, I know what I did was unethical, but I feared the Keeper would suppress my discoveries.” She gave a soft trill. “You were right, Your Highness. I have many secrets.”

Mem grunted in agreement. “The cube is my invention. It is made of fluoride glass which can be infused with atoms of rare elements and infrared laser light to store a three-dimensional image in the cube.”

“Uh, yes,” Dawann said. “But I don’t see an image.”

“Ah, it takes two touches to activate it.” Fey tapped her ring on the glass case again, and this time the air inside began to shimmer, then coalesce into a view of an excavation site. “This is a compilation of five separate pictures of the site. It permits the viewer to examine everything I found. As I said before, the artifacts were removed from the dig and secreted within my gear. Tell me, Your Royal Highness, do you recognize anything?”

Dawann studied the image of a standard excavation pit. Tools scattered around. A glob of dirt-encrusted amber on the ground. A metal plaque.

Her gaze zeroed in on the plaque. She moved her head and the image changed slightly, making it seem like she was walking around the paleontological site. She leaned in, still studying the 3-D display, and then did a double take. Was it her imagination or did the inscriptions on the plaque seem familiar?

The nictating membranes rolled over Dawann’s eyes. “I – I think I understand!” she said, blinking her eyes clear.

“What?” Fey and Mem said in one breath.

“The plaque contains a depiction of a human space traveler. It was left at the landing site as a commemoration of the event. And I believe... yes, I can read some of it. The signatures at the bottom are––”

“Oh, I was right then,” Fey crowed. “They
are
signatures.”

Mind reeling, Dawann pointed toward the first signature, boldly written with a mixture of cursive and printed letters. “That one belongs to the ship’s commander. His name was Gus. See? Right there. G-U-S.”

The couple stared.

“As for the rest of the letters I don’t know,” Dawann said. She gave a small growl of frustration. “It’s so hard.”

“Take your time, Your Highness,” said Fey. “Perhaps your memories will come back.”

Dawann stood there, pondering the image, the jumble of letters confounding her. And then, quite unexpectedly, a name leapt out at her, incontestable proof her visions were true. 

She rubbed her eyes and then refocused on a line of distinctively slanted handwriting, the strength of her astonishment nearly propelling her to the floor. “My Goddess,” she cried out, “that’s
her
signature!”

“Whose?” Mem asked.

“Dawn’s!” Dawann looked at the three digits of her own right hand and imagined herself in another time and place. But she was not a saurian. No, she was human. A human female. And she was little; without breasts, her body small and light, only half as big as an adult. Human Dawn was a child practicing her penmanship. Pushing a writing device called a
pencil
across the page again and again, grasping it tightly with her own five stubby fingers as she carefully formed her letters. 

Dawann envisioned the girl writing,
D-A-W-N. D-A-W-N. D-A-W-N
.