Chapter 8
Welcome to the darker side of things.
*All characters copyright Eric Huston. Deep Rockers, places, and Dragon Isle copyright Poseidon-Simons
“You want me to WHAT?!” Drakis couldn’t believe his ears. He had woken up early, taking one pill less so he would wake up in time to get the call, and then went through a little “demonstration” routine of what he could do, and now he was being told that he was needed to rush into what seemed like certain death.
“You don’t need to shout. I never said you had to comply with this assignment. But if you follow through, I’ll give you access to restricted files, for your services. I’ll also pay you a year’s wages for the bounty on these people.”
“But you still want me to run into the back of a building filled with mobsters AND trigger happy SWAT team members?”
“We need you to cause as much confusion and chaos as possible, while preventing their escape. We want those mobster bosses behind bars! Don’t kill them, since dead men don’t rat out their henchmen.”
Drakis turned away, still not believing any of it. “You’re crazy if you think I’m crazy enough to do this.”
“I
know the name of the thing that attacked you. He calls himself Separon and is
the best hitman on the
Drakis looked back at him, now considering the suicide mission.
<I can’t believe I am crazy enough to do this!> He flew to the building that the SWAT team was going to be assaulting at sundown. There was a razor that was apparently going in the same direction. He looked strange and familiar, but couldn’t place it. He felt a slight shock on his back, which quickly dissipated. Something like a shadow ran over his mind, and he had the distinct notion of a lock opening. This passed, and he felt more confident, more in tune with his senses. He saw the building, the scents of the area getting sharper. He felt a new strength in his body, pushing away his fear.
<So it begins…> Dakarth veered off, his illusion disguising his “unique” appearance. <What I sealed away will now be opened. The first lock is broken, and this “mission” of his will tell me if he can survive the rest of the transformation.> He landed, knowing that what he unlocked would help Drakis immensely. A memory stirred in his mind.
He held the egg in his hands, turning it over and over. She was gone, taken by disease in a cruel twist of fate. Their child was not to be. He had been tricked, in an experiment! Rage seethed inside him, but he kept those thoughts away from the hatchling in the egg. He sent the unborn mind soothing thoughts, and gently probed. <So I was right. That experiment worked, then. Well, I’ll make sure they never see their plan come to fruition!> He found the part that was the focus of the experiment. The unborn mind was silent, not yet reaching enough sentience to comprehend what was going on, and not knowing of the abomination that had brought it into being. He gathered part of the mind, the bestial, animalistic part, and sealed it from the rest of the mind. He cast his mind out, looking to the future. He saw that the child was fated to be sickly and weak, because of the new combination of genes. So much had gone wrong, so much that defied chance. <I’ll not have her child be this way!> He stretched out his mind again, but this time it was inward. He studied his genes, memorized certain codes, and went to the genes of the baby. He changed certain parts, using his genes as a template. But he encountered too many problems.
<Well, her son’s only hope of survival is for me to improvise, then.> He altered things yet again, and then cast out his mind to the future. What he saw amazed him. As a final touch, he altered the baby’s genes so that it would hold his legacy, the as yet undisclosed discovery of the beneficial form of trisomy of the 50th chromosomal pair. His work was done, and he put the egg in a portable incubator, and left for the hospital. He knew the pair of dragons he wanted to raise his lover’s child, and so put such a strong psychic call on the baby, that they would be drawn to it as if it were their own. Secure in his thoughts, he prepared himself for what he was about to do.
For the first time in two decades, a tear came to Dakarth’s eye.
Drakis waited for the sentry to pass. He had spent the entire day in that area waiting until sundown. His black scales and clothes helped him blend in with the night. He had been given antireflective black paint to cover his silver scales and coppery spines. He was nearly invisible in the shadows, only the whites of his eyes and vivid green irises not blending in. On instinct, he had closed his eyes nearly shut to avoid anyone seeing him that way. The sentry passed. <Finally!> he thought, noticing that there seemed to be an “echo” to his thought.
He used his magnetic powers to silently open the door, first checking with his electrical sense to see if there was anyone on the other side. He felt the bodily electricity of two males, distracted from the door. He opened it just as much as he needed, then slipped in. Instinct seemed to take over. Drakis had been dreading doing this, not knowing anything about stealth. But now, his thoughts seemed to fade, and he just flowed. He hid in the shadowy corner at the ceiling, his magnetic powers holding him up there and shutting the door as silently as it was opened.
Part of his mind told him that this was insane, that the place was going to be broken into any moment, weapons blazing on both sides. There was no way that he’d have the strength to deflect every single shot, and then there were all those explosives and flammables around. The other part was pretty much just thinking to itself how much it wanted the other side to shut up. This confused Drakis to the point that he stopped thinking at all, and sat there for a few seconds. Then, he decided to have some fun. <What better way to keep anyone from coming out this way than to not have anyone in here at all?> He still was scared stiff, but he argued it with himself, and decided to go ahead and do it.
He used his magnetic powers to give one of the grenades on the table a little nudge. The goons in the room looked at it, decided it was nothing, and went back to their game of spades. Drakis decided to go a little further this time. He stood the grenade up.
That got a reaction. They started to look around, guns at the ready. Drakis closed his eyes on instinct, and began to use his electrical sense, more accurately detecting the goons than he could by sight. He was still wondering why he hadn’t soiled himself. But, he decided to continue. He set some of the grenades and coins on the table to spinning and hopping around, and some of the guns to point at their owners. They screamed and ran out, about the same time as the concussion charges from the SWAT team blew the doors down.
Everything seemed to happen so fast, Drakis was left wondering what had happened by the time he started to think normally. David was surprised he was still alive. Drakis shared the sentiment. “So you lived. Good. The team says that there were some goons that were running like something horrible had just happened to them. Was that your doing?”
“Yeah. Well, did we get all of them?”
“Not all. One got killed in the crossfire. But, you still get paid.” He brought him a suitcase. In it was a good sum of money. “All this? Just for that?”
“Yes, all of it. Several people of importance were paying to get these people off the streets, and that’s your bounty. Now, how about you let me drive you home, and then get some sleep. I think you’ll want plenty of time to look over our records on Separon.”
Drakis didn’t pay much attention. That was a lot of money to Drakis. And he thought of the things he could get with it, and the people he could get those things for. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”