Dragons vs. Drones (13 page)

Chapter
17

T
he work was incredibly grueling. Night came and went by the light of a welding torch as Dree and Marcus disassembled the ruined drone, harvesting its processing core and other essential components and putting the hull aside to be rebuilt into their hybrid dragon. They were set up in a small side cavern where they would have some privacy, but curious dragons popped in constantly to watch. On the plus side, it kept the cavern warm.

Dree was astounded by the seemingly infinite pieces within the drone. Her creations were much simpler, but Marcus said the mechanisms could still be combined with the electronics and power cells of the drone technology. With his programming knowledge, her welding skills, and Lourdvang's inherent
understanding of dragon flight, they had a slim chance of making something that could actually fight the drones.

Dree was unconvinced, but she was certainly going to try. It weighed on her constantly that her family was huddled in a cave, safe but stuck in the darkness, far from home. And even there, the drones would find them eventually. Nowhere was completely safe.

As they worked, Marcus outlined what they knew about the drones.

“There are three types,” he said as he carefully removed some of the inner mechanisms. “The red-eyed ones—Trackers. We know they keep a watch on the city, maybe looking for targets. They have dual machine guns and light missiles.”

“I know,” Dree said dryly. “I'm looking at one as we speak.”

Marcus ignored her. “Then we have the white ones—we'll call them Destroyers. They seem to swoop in for the major attacks. Probably heavy armor, definitely heavy-duty machine guns and missiles.” He removed a delicate wire and placed it in the pile. “And finally we have the little ones—Researchers. I think they're just collecting data and surveying the countryside. Maybe for resources. I doubt they're armed, but it would be light weaponry if they are.”

Dree thought about that as she removed an armored plate.

“So they have three types, and we have a hybrid that probably won't even work.”

Marcus sighed. “Yep.”

After they had disassembled the drone, aided at times by
Lourdvang's fearsome claws, Marcus took the processing core and sat in the corner with his laptop. He managed to extract the main processor chip from the drone's core and plug it into his computer. An endless stream of code popped up on his screen, and he took a breath. This was not going to be easy.

But he had the picture of the coding on the wall, and he suspected the clue to all of this was hidden somewhere in there. It would just take hours—or days—to decipher. While he worked on that, Dree began the most complex welding job of her life. She had no schematics or designs. She was working solely on instinct, along with the gentle advice of Lourdvang, who watched over everything. He had never seen her weld before, but he had an innate fascination for building. It wasn't a dragon trait.

Late into the night they took a break to sleep, and Dree and Marcus lay down on the hard stone next to Lourdvang—both using their packs as pillows. It was cold up in the mountains, but with Lourdvang there, it was like sleeping next to a burning hearth. Marcus fidgeted on the ground, staring up at the shadows. Everything was pitch-black.

“Your family seemed nice,” he said. “You look like your dad.”

“People tell me that sometimes,” Dree said. “Do you miss your family?”

Marcus paused. “I don't really have one. My dad's best friend has been taking care of me since he left, but my mom died when I was very young. I never knew her.”

Dree glanced over at his shadowy form. They were
close—only a few feet apart—but she could barely make him out. “How long has your father been missing?”

“Eight years,” he said quietly.

“And you have been searching all this time?”

“I'll search the rest of my life, if I have to.”

“How do you know he's alive?”

“I just know.” Marcus looked at her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You said the name Gavri earlier, in the school. Who is that?”

Dree was silent for a long time. She didn't talk about Gavri with anyone—not even Abi. But for some reason it was easier to talk to Marcus. She felt comfortable with him, like she somehow knew he would understand her pain and guilt better than most. “My little brother. He's dead.”

“I'm sorry,” Marcus said. “When?”

“About seven years ago. I was five.”

“What happened?”

Lourdvang shifted beside Dree, obviously wondering if she would confide in Marcus. Lourdvang knew the story—all of it. He knew how much it tormented her.

“He died in a fire,” she said finally. “My house burned down.”

Marcus glanced at her. “That's terrible. I'm sorry.”

Dree didn't know why she said the next thing. It just came out.

“I started it.”

It tore Dree apart to admit it, and she immediately wondered what Marcus would think of her. That she was a murderer. A freak. Maybe he would leave.

Marcus just lay there for a moment, unsure of how to reply. “Why?”

“I didn't mean to,” she whispered, her voice cracking just a little. “I was angry. My parents sent me to my room. I felt this . . . heat, and I couldn't stop it. I let it pour out onto my bed, and the fire started spreading everywhere. It moved so quickly. I didn't know what to do—I just froze and watched it. When I finally realized what was happening, I ran to get my family. My dad dragged me out, but Gavri . . . he didn't make it. They had to leave him behind.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them. In the darkness she could finally cry again. She could let it out—the memories that followed her everywhere.

“That's not your fault,” Marcus said.

“It is,” she replied numbly. “I started it. And I could have saved him. The fire didn't hurt me. But my dad dragged me out.” She turned away. “I can still hear him screaming.”

Marcus reached out in the darkness and found her hand.

“You were five,” he said gently. “You didn't have a choice.”

Dree let him hold her hand—she let the warmth flow through her.

“Maybe,” she said at last. “But that doesn't stop the memories.”

Marcus squeezed her fingers. “Those won't stop until you let them.”

They let those words hang in the air until both succumbed to the darkness.

The days passed in a haze. Dragon sentries returned once in a while with reports of attacks, but soon those too blurred together. Houses destroyed, buildings leveled, fields of dead Outliers shot from the sky and left to dissolve into the soil. The Sages were long gone, the Nightwings were hidden in Forost, and the Flames were secluded in the Teeth, so the Outliers and the humans were taking the brunt of the drone's attacks.

The stories were of death, and it only made them work faster.

They didn't speak of the fire again, but Marcus and Dree both felt that a wall had disappeared between them. They were comfortable in their silence. Dree was relieved that Marcus knew the truth about her and still hadn't left, and he was relieved that she trusted him enough to share her secrets. He hoped it meant she had forgiven him for leading the drones into Dracone.

Dree may have felt some relief from her guilt, but Marcus's was growing worse. With every story from the sentries, his stomach hardened into stone. They had to hurry.

A week passed, and a rudimentary hybrid began to take shape. With Lourdvang's help, Dree built wings from the sheet metal—designed more for maneuverability and speed than lift. The drones had the engines; she just needed to
improve on the design. Crude legs and claws were formed and attached to the central frame of the drone, built on pistons and cogs. The wiring of the drone was completely intact, and Marcus showed Dree how to run it through the hybrid. But technology was not enough. In places she showed him where fire could power movement, and Lourdvang proved very useful in that matter, pointing out things that made no sense to Marcus. And yet when they created the shape, Lourdvang blew fire in the heart and limbs began to move. For Marcus it was hard to fathom, but he realized it was their only chance.

Somehow the fire had the ability to power things in a way that didn't make sense on Earth—fire didn't move objects by itself. It needed a whole internal combustion system or water to turn to steam. Obviously this was not regular fire as Marcus understood it. When he asked Dree about it, she just shrugged and said dragon fire had always been considered magical among the dragon riders of old. Marcus wanted to study it more, but they didn't have the time. So he just watched in fascination as the combination of Lourdvang's fire and the drone's circuitry and engines brought the hybrid to life.

Even fire couldn't bring artificial intelligence and voice command though, so Marcus spent most of his time restructuring the code. He used the one written on the wall as a guide and found that it did outline how to create open-ended code. They were instructions, and he could use them to give the hybrid limited intelligence. It was essential: A robot that responded to commands wouldn't be enough. They needed a weapon that understood how to fight.

Twelve days after they started, the hybrid was ready for its first test. The time had passed quickly, despite the arduous work. Stories of destruction in the city and the outskirts had continued to pour in from dragon scouts, and Dree worried constantly about her family. She and Lourdvang hadn't dared risk a visit to the hidden cave, however, for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Marcus and Dree had also slept very little, and both were wavering as they stood in the shadowy cavern, examining their creation. It was crude and unpolished, but it was still pretty impressive.

The wings were sheet metal attached to great frames of steel, bordering a rudimentary dragon shape built around the hulk of the drone. The body had been easy to fashion, but building enormous legs and a neck and even a fully formed dragon head had been feats that had driven Dree to the very edge of her patience and talent. She was fairly confident that she was the only person in Dracone who could have created something like this, and still she was skeptical. Erdath and a few other dragons were gathered at the entrance, having heard that the first test would take place that afternoon. They were even more dubious than she was, and Erdath had blown out an unhappy puff of smoke when he saw the bizarre creation.

“Well,” Marcus said. “Should we try it?”

Dree glanced at him. “Might as well.”

An equally tired Lourdvang lumbered over to the hybrid and leaned down to where Dree had created a large shaft to the heart of the dragon, the same as she had for the toy dragonfly. She was using the same mechanics, but with
the help of powerful fuel cells and advanced wiring from the drone, which she hoped wouldn't immediately incinerate under Lourdvang's fire. Theoretically, the combination of the two power sources would allow for greater energy, more power, and a mechanical creation that bordered somewhere in a dangerous place between technology and magic.

“Do it,” Dree said, chewing on a nail nervously.

Lourdvang nodded and sprayed fire into the shaft, trying to keep the blaze narrow and focused. It shot into the hybrid, which instantly lit it up like a candle, an orange glow beaming out from every opening. Marcus fidgeted anxiously, focused on the eyes. The processing core was placed in the heart of the hybrid, right where it had been originally, but they had worked hard to run wires up to the head as well. Nothing happened.

The hybrid lit up the cavern, but it didn't move.

Dree scowled and threw her torch on the ground. “I knew it wouldn't work.”

Marcus remained silent as Dree walked over to the hybrid.

“It's too big,” she ranted, feeling the heat rise up in her. “And the wires and computer parts and whatever else you said—it doesn't mix with fire. We're wasting time in here when we should be figuring out a way to—”

“Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said calmly. “Stand up.”

He didn't know if it would work for sure, of course. But he thought he saw a flicker of light in the eyes. As soon as he spoke, they flared orange. The hybrid immediately climbed to its feet, all straining metal and groaning and noise like
a factory churning to life. Dree froze and stared wide-eyed as it stood up, half as big as Lourdvang but still massive. It waited there silently, its legs firm and steady.

“Impossible,” she whispered.

“Obviously not,” Marcus replied, cracking a lopsided grin.

Lourdvang looked leery of the hybrid, as did Erdath and the other dragons. They also looked stunned, which was exactly how Dree and Marcus felt.

“Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said. “Fly.”

Instantly, the engines began to hum. They had managed to relocate the propulsion engines of the drones to the back of each stationary wing and kept the main one on the bottom to ensure that the hybrid could hover and maintain altitude. The hybrid didn't need to flap its wings, but it could angle them slightly for better maneuverability. The engines flared, receiving full power, and the hybrid began to slowly lift off the floor.