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WHY THE RED DRAGON WILL ROAR FOREVER MORE
* 6 *
“Shit, Lamb – we gotta move!”
“Damnit, TripTrick, and I was just getting comfortable!
“I know, but we gotta take our positions.”
Lamb and TripTrick launch themselves out of their chairs and run to the central that has chairs similar to the Operator Station on the Zion hovercraft. Except this room, like the ship entire, doesn’t like a flying junkyard. The halls they run through are all sleek lines and smooth surfaces.
Soon they enter what they call “The KrysCube”. They walk through a rounded arch that looks as if it is made of individual blocks of masonry but is actually platinum-covered metal blocks. The only “block” missing is the keystone. The room itself is made of black iron ore and is cube shaped. It is 20 feet in all directions. 20x20x20. Supported from the six corners are silver-colored pillars which all meet the six corners of another cube equidistant from the main cube’s walls. It is 10x10x10. Golden light streams in from above, and when it hits the surfaces of the cubes, it reflects back as numberless sparkling stars.
Lamb climbs on the shoulders of TripTrick traces the sign of the encircled cross where the missing keystone should be. On the underside of the metal-block it feels soft to the touch. First she traces a line North to South and then a line East to West. Then, she circles it clock-wise. On the surface, a white light follows her patterns. Finally, she creates a counter-clockwise square around the circled-cross.
Upon completion of this, the middle section of the inner-cube separates and the upper part of the rectangle that runs the whole length of the cube bends down on a lower hinge. Lamb drops down, and they both patiently wait as the door noiselessly opens for them. As soon as possible, they climb up the resulting ramp and TripTrick nonchalantly taps a section near the doorway so that it will close behind them.
Meanwhile, the ones manning the guns unlock their chairs so that they can move. Simultaneously, the ones in the pod push buttons to make sure they will be ready, too. The Captain and his son monitor their progress and wait for all to be properly prepared.
Word comes directly to his brain from the others and the Captain returns fire with his own firing neurons. He turns the ship to face the ship that thought they were the predator. Soon they will see that The Red Dragon will slay all those foolish to try to turn the veil of myth into reality.
He spins it to show its belly to the, The Nephilim wasn’t it? Well, he knew all about the myth of the Nephilim. They were a race that fell one, the ship named after them will soon join its namesake.
Strapped in, he watches a tiny full color version of his ship bend and twist and transform as if it were a lycanthrope under a full moon. The cockpit arches forward and assumes the shape of a dangerous animal. The wings stretch up and out as if great wings of a bat. The body is stretched out and down as the armor follows it out along its length looking like scales. The tail curves around forward and sports a stinger of its main weapon. It seems to have grown in size and now its true stature is revealed.
The wing guns make a roaring noise as they curve around into position that reverberates throughout the tunnels, serving as a warning to all who might dare cross its path.
It just so happens that it is the Nephilim that is in its path. It slows to a stop within a few hundred feet of the metallic beast opposite it. There they face each other, the sleek yet still awkward-looking 150 foot Zion ship opposite the 300 foot solo craft.
Arc looks it over and says. “It doesn’t look that bad.” Just as Captain Portent is going to argue, The Red Dragon suddenly lights up its entire length in a full-length red electrical field, lighting up the black and brown pipes in the color of blood and raging fire.
All Arc can say to this is. “Never mind.”
“Ok, so we’ve found it, genius. Now that all the myths are becoming reality, what do you want to do now?”
“Um, hail them.”
“What, so we can all meet up and have a great old laugh about fairy tales? This ship is like nothing I have ever seen before. All of Zion’s ships are accounted for. There is nothing, I mean NOTHING mentioned officially about this kind of technology! Do you notice how it looks like the Machines themselves created and maintained that monster? What if it is a lure meant to trap human ships to their doom.”
“Do you mind not talking, I am trying to hail them.”
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said?”
“Sure, you told me to hail them.”
“You idiot, it was you who –“
“Shh!”
“Captain, the Nephilim appears to be running through a series of primitive hailing frequencies. What do I do?”
“Enigma, I want you to … to … ahhhh, get out of my head!”
“Captain, what is happening?”
“Betrayer to the cau –Ohhh! Get out of my mine—mine—duh-ow!!”
Sitting on the far left of the Captain immersed in his work and not privy to the Captain’s thoughts, Key-Master is hit with a number of things at the same time. In his brain he hears the Captain scream. He also wishes for his deafness back when the most heart-wrenching scream enters his ear. He winces, and then turns towards the source of the scream, but it doesn’t matter, because soon he feels a wet sticky mess slam across his face.
He has little time to consider his own fate, though. Out of the blue there comes a sharp pain in his left eye that replaces his care for the fate of the Captain with fear for his own. He just has time to raise his hand to feel what he can only guess is a jagged piece of the Captain’s skull rammed into his own eye. Then that must be the Captain’s blood and gray matter all over his face.
“Strawberry intense, please.” These are K-M’s final words to this world as he falls back into his chair and convulses in death throes. His whole body lurches as if being electrocuted as blood froths out of his right ear and blood and yellow custard drip from his pierced eye. Just before his logical mind loses its grip, it feels a presence in his brain. It recognizes it as one of his crewmates. Joy sours into pain like a dairy product left out of the fridge for too long as he reaslizes that it has figured out his fate and cruelly laughing at him. That rancid-milk laughter is the last thing he hears as he finally becomes still for good.
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