Liu plunks me down into the box.
Liu saw my eyes in the observation room. I needed not tell him; he read me like a book.
He leaves just as with any other day, but he hesitates for a few moments as he brings up the rear, shooting a subtle glance over at me.
Then he closes the door.
The characteristic click of the locking mechanism doesn't sound.
Everyone goes quiet, waiting for the final signal.
The butterflies in my stomach are back in the air, gees ramping up by the second until they wouldn't be out of place in far-future space combat.
The lights flicker once.
It's time.
<CRY HAVOC,> I call out, <AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!>
I waddle over to the back of the cage, then charge.
Bam.
Okay, it's gonna take a few hits.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
And over I go.
With a resounding crash, I land on the sheet steel floor. Hard.
I feel a blunt crunch, then a subtle throbbing in the fragile bones of my left wing. I check to find the heavy metal handle of my laser lying on it - yeah, that about tracks with the impact. It hurts, but I've never been one to flinch at blunt impacts, and I have my bearings within half a second. I roll, careful not to compound the injury. I look around at the door for a seam in the transparent plastic.
YES!
My hands dart into the space before me. I give the strange squeezing order, and claws jet out. Now talons, my forward manipulator appendages slip into the seam. I clamp down, and with a roar, I slide the door open.
The sterile expanse of white steel greets me.
<I'm free!> I shout exultantly into the mindlink, giving a shrieking vocal whoop of success.
Now, down to business.
I bound out of the box and dart over to the nearest cage. I sense a collective rising hope as the others watch me, waiting their turn to be freed.
I check the box's inhabitant, and there's an instant sense of familiarity.
<So that's what you look like,> she says, and I recognize her voice instantly.
It's Aurora.
Most of her is gold, but she has these luscious, deep blue stripes washing over her face like waves of a beach, contrasted with a jagged triangular pattern just below her eyes. She seems an ingenious counterpoint to my own patterns in almost every conceivable way, flowing where I am rock-solid, yet stoically firm where I am undecided. I never thought another being, let alone a dragonet, could look that beautiful - and yet she stands right before me. Well, discounting the fact that I never thought dragonets were actual things no more than about three days ago...
She nods as I stick out my tongue in concentration, slipping my claws underneath the door.
With another rebellious yell, I toss the piece of ultrahard plastic behind me. It skids, spinning, across the floor. I grasp the handle. Digging my heels in, I drag the box backwards, squinting my eyes and groaning with the strain.
Aura worms out and bounds off the top of the box, landing on me and knocking me flat.
<Thank you,> she says, and bounds off to free more of us.
YOU ARE READING
The Nature of Change
Science FictionAndy Voitenko notices things that others don't. Nothing paranormal, he just sees the laws of physics in action. He's always been socially awkward. And that makes him a target for a group of scientists who want the smart ones. He never expected wings...
