Mangkon Storm

“There weren't always dragons in the Valley.”

Fucking superstitious nomads - the old bat was at it again. Her eyes were distant and unfocused. She had muttered this line periodically for the last hour.

“Look, ma’am – we’re investigating seismic, erm, plate breach. Did you see what caused the rift? We did see a spike on the readouts, just no quake signatures.”

The old woman just stared ahead blank and wide. She was gone – reliving something in her mind – she had tuned the fuck out.

I don’t need this shit four hours before a long weekend.

“C’mon, Mari, let’s suit up.” I looked over and Mari was finishing her gear check.

“Way ahead of you, Auntie,” Mari laughed as she tossed me my hi-viz. “It’s going to be cold out there.”

It took us about twenty minutes to reach the rift. It was easy to see against the new snow even without computer vision. The scar stretched down the middle of the valley floor was right where it shouldn’t be. Some hikers found the scorch marks; it was gouged up like a tar-crusted zipper. They found that, and the old woman.

“Let’s put her down, Mari.”

Mari is a heck of a pilot. She found a landing spot just wide enough and clear of tree line before I finished saying her name. I’m going to miss her.

We jumped out of our scout and into about four inches of snow; the clouds up-valley seemed to be heading our way. They looked heavier than usual for this time of season. We made it to the site expecting to see the signs of a regular plate rift; cracks, new outcrops, maybe some new gas jets. But this was different.

Mari seemed unsure of herself as she began, “What are we looking at here, Skip?”

Damned if I know.

“Let’s walk it back.”

From where we were standing, we could see an impact zone, a blast radius about a hundred steps in front of us into the valley. A straight line of burn and gouged out debris and scrub pines blasted straight into the earth and trailed off for another hundred and fifty steps down behind us where it thinned out and stopped.

“Maybe it was kids? Burnt up some fuel up there and the runoff came down here?”

No way. “Maybe. What do you make of the residue?”

This was no quake.

Mari bent down and scraped a sample up with piece of shattered rock. “Looks like metal, but it could be organic. Let’s get it back to the lab.”

We got back in our scout and started to climb.

“Hey, Mar, let’s take a look up-valley to see what else we can see.”

“You got it.” Mari answered and moved in one motion. Our nose was tipped up-valley and we could see the storm getting closer. “Looking for anything specific.”

Negative – I don’t want to see anything else. “No, just take her slow.”

Besides the vicious wound, the valley ahead seemed quiet. All of the familiar outcroppings and towers were unchanged. Geologic time seemed unfazed by the morning’s events. What was that old woman doing out here? What did she mean “weren’t always?”

“Skip…”

I felt it. Something was staring at us from over the side of the cliff face up ahead. Snow clouds buffeted our scout and we could barely make out what was ahead.

“Skip?”

“I see it too.”

Shit.

Something big launched itself from its perch and bolted in flight further up-valley ahead of us.

“Well? Get after it, Mari…” I almost finished my thought before being pinned back into my seat. Mari was in pursuit, her forehead and nose creased with intensity. Just like the old days…

We gunned after that slippery sonofabitch for maybe two minutes. Mari knew every turn and dead end in this sector, but she also knew that we could keep up better over the valley rim when in pursuit – especially when heading directly into weather.

And then it stopped. The beast just stopped without de-cel and whipped around to face us head on. We were where it wanted us; it was done running. Mari pushed down hard to reverse and slowed and hovered. Behind the beast, something larger emerged from the swollen black storm, lowering into our field of vision from an impossible angle.

“Fuckin FIRE AT IT, Mari!”

But this time, she was too slow. A wide blue beam of noise and heat swept through the scout.