“Good,” said Drogan. His wings unfolded almost as wide as the Arcadia. “I keep my word,” he said to the crew. A single flap of those mighty wings catapulted Drogan straight to the ceiling of the station. He flung into the abyss, and vanished as abruptly as he had appeared. Everyone on the deck was frozen, the trance before waking from a terrible dream. It was Dawn who stirred first.
“Someone wrap that wound and apply pressure,” she cried out towards Miller, “Alice, where’s the emergency first-aid?”
Chapter Ten: Replaceable Parts
“How did this… I didn’t think he would come for us,” Dawn mumbled into the deck. Her knees were sore from crawling across the Arcadia, but she had to do something to keep her mind from fleeing her body. Miller sat up in the corner of the deck, soaking through his bandages. Wagner and Howard took Rodrick’s body below, so the others wouldn’t have to stare at what Drogan had done. The crew knew they should be d
oing anything else, to keep their Captain alive, but the break in the station’s ceiling hadn’t stabilized yet. They were stuck. “Part of me didn’t believe there even was a Drogan… I mean, he’s a Dragon, right? A bona fide, real-life 3D nightmare?”
“I think… there’s more about Drogan… than what Marcus told us…” Miller wheezed from across the deck.
“Keep a cork in it, would you Miller? You’ve spilled enough already,” Dawn scolded him between hard scrubs. Soap frothed red around her brush, but it hardly bothered her. In the numb minutes since they’d taken Rodrick away, the stain had gone from his remnants to more cleanup.
“Dawn… take a break… you’re in shock,” said Miller.
“Me? Worry about yourself!” Dawn laughed. If her usual, stable self could have heard, she would have winced.
“This is… your first fight… probably the first time… you saw a man die… believe it or not… I’ve been hurt worse than this… I’ll be fine,” Miller tried. He watched the bloody froth soak through the knees of her pants. Dawn scrubbed on, unaware.
“Like hell you will. You look awful. I’m going down to find you a doctor, as soon as they’re done up there,” Dawn’s eyes jumped up to the gaping void in the glass left behind by Drogan. Maintenance pods spread in rectangular formations, out in the vacuum. Massive crystal globes beneath them projected shimmering screens. Several sets of them coordinated to seal the breaks around the station.
“Dawn, please…” Miller managed to get out.
“Please, nothing!” she silenced him.
“The Captain is right, Dawn,” Alice’s blue lights glowed up to say. That was it. The magic finger snap that broke Dawn’s trance. She clenched her brush hard enough for her knuckles to show white through the blood. “You are in shock. Your body is producing excess amounts of-”
“Like you were?” Dawn snapped. She arched her arm back. The brush crashed into the deck like a cannonball. “I thought you couldn’t feel? You told me you couldn’t feel!”
“Dawn… don’t do this,” Miller shook his head. But Dawn stood up straight. Her voice boiled to a scream at the abyss, at the bodiless Alice.
“Drogan burns a few holes in the ship and you freeze up? Why, if you couldn’t feel it?”
“I was afraid!” Alice shouted back, “I’m sorry that Rodrick is dead, and I wish I did more… I was terrified. Drogan… something was wrong about him.”
“Wrong?” Dawn echoed.
“I… felt like I’ve seen him before. Like I... knew him. Like those eyes weren’t his. It was… wrong,” Alice murmured.
“Wrong,” Dawn repeated again, her voice hardly a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Dawn. Everyone,” said Alice.
“Alice… you did everything you could,” Miller told her. He even patted the railing of the Arcadia for delusional sentiment.
“Look,” Dawn said, suddenly distracted by the maintenance drones flattening against the station roof. “Repairs are done. I’m going down to find a doctor, and you’re coming with me.” She grabbed Miller by the wrist.
“Dawn,” Miller muttered. Between the clang of their steps on the steel slush piers and his heavy breathing near her ear, while she helped him along, she hardly heard him.
“Whatever it is, save it,” Dawn advised. She knew by the warmth leaching through her jacket from his wound just how lucid he wasn’t. Miller’s hand gripped her shoulder.
“I was wrong about you… I thought it was shock, but I see it now. You’re not just a pilot. You’re a leader.”
“Come on, Miller. The clinic is right there. You can tell me after they sew you shut,” Dawn brushed him off. It was something about the strength in his hands. His nails dug into her in a way that demanded attention. She turned her head to find him oddly aware.
“Make peace with Alice… you’re the Captain of the Arcadia in my absence,” he said.
“What?”