James Maxey - Dragonseed

Jandra picked up the box and lifted its lid. Inside was a silver skull cap, a duplicate of Vendevorex's own.

"Do me a favor," he said. "Change it to different color when you wear it. I don't want to see silver against your skin for a long time."

"Oh," she said, lifting the hair at the back of her neck and twisting so he could see the upper part of her back. A strip of silver metal ran along her spine, into her hair, where it clung to her scalp like a three fingered claw. The silver turned to jade before his eyes. "Done," she said.

"You're already wearing a genie?" he asked, puzzled.

"Ven's genie has always had the power to spawn new ones. He's simply been cautious in sharing."

"Then whose…?"

Jandra lifted the skullcap from the box. "It's your genie, Shay."

Shay took the skullcap, staring at his reflection. His hair was a hopeless mess.

There was a note in the box. "Thank you for saving my daughter," it read. "Study hard in case you need to do so again."

"He has nice penmanship," said Shay. He shook his head. "I adjusted to the wings, but I don't know if I'm ready to learn magic."

Jandra took the skullcap from his hands and set it back in the box.

"Learning magic can wait," she whispered. "Making magic is the order of the moment."

Her lips brushed against his. He closed his eyes.

And then there was magic.

VENDEVOREX FLOATED DOWN to the fishbowl garden. The fish, he noted, were still doing well. Jazz's antenna was dismantled, spread on the ground before the young boy who studied the pieces with ancient eyes. He was dressed in a white toga torn from the scraps of a larger garment.

Zeeky sat near him on the lip of a large flowerpot. Skitter foraged at a nearby tree, ravenously devouring the ripe avocados that weighed down the branches.

The boy looked up as Vendevorex's shadow fell over him.

"The jamming signal is gone," said Vendevorex.

"Yes," said the boy.

"But you still can't communicate with the nanites that populate the city?"

"No," said the boy. He looked toward the towering spires. "I can no longer hear the voices of my children." He looked back at the dismantled antennae. "I don't know how she managed it, but she's locked the parts of my mind that would let me talk to all the pieces of myself."

"What are you?" Vendevorex asked.

The boy smiled. "I'm Atlantis, of course."

Zeeky shook her head. "He knows who you are. He's asking what you are." Vendevorex looked at the girl. She shrugged. "I'm good at understanding what folks are really talking about."

Atlantis swept his hands across the garden, toward the spires, then gazed toward the ocean. "I am all that you see. I am the city."

"Again," said Vendevorex. "I'm aware of that. Cassie told me you weren't from earth."

"Not from this earth," said Atlantis.

"That's an odd word to emphasize."

"There a many, many earths. More are created with every tick of the clock. Underspace is the medium in which these infinite earths float, each existing in a slightly different space than the others. You can't be blamed for not knowing. The earths are separated by dimensional membranes. Under ordinary circumstances, the only evidence of the other universes is their gravitational bleed. They create the illusion that there's far more matter in a universe than there truly is."

"I take it that these dimensional membranes can be crossed," said Vendevorex.

"Yes. The technology of this earth would have required eons to develop it, however. I come from an earth where the dinosaurs never died. They evolved into a tool-using civilization fifty million years before the clever apes of this world learned to master fire."

"You don't look like a highly advanced dinosaur," said Vendevorex.

"No," said Atlantis. "I arrived here as a seed. A tiny nugget of intelligence wrapped in a shell of nanites, programmed to serve the race of beings that had designed me, colonizers of other realities. I didn't find the race I was programmed to serve, however. Instead, the first intelligent being I encountered was a human. I sampled his genetic code and constructed this body in his image. I gleaned the myth of Atlantis from his memories. I was programmed to serve others in perfect altruism, providing for every need. So I allowed the children of this world to share in the bounty of my abilities."

"I'm not certain that your children have thrived under your guidance," said Vendevorex.

The boy's forehead wrinkled. "How can you say they haven't thrived? They're immortal, or at least they were. They had no reason to fear hunger or thirst or heat or cold, until I was crippled by the goddess."

"The fact that you have a city of six billion people who've forgotten how to feed themselves, or sew a garment, or start a fire, is rather convincing evidence that you've done your children a disservice."

Atlantis frowned. "It's all I know how to do. It's true, perhaps, that unlimited altruism has not been as successful an advancement strategy for humans as it was for the quinveris."

"The quinveris?"

"The race that long ago created my kind. You know them as earth-dragons."

Vendevorex was puzzled by this revelation. Earth-dragons could, plausibly, be evolved dinosaurs. They definitely weren't part of the genetically engineered lineage that had produced sky-dragons and earth-dragons. But, as a race, they hardly seemed advanced enough to create the miraculous technology Atlantis commanded. However, if the quinveris had relied on this technology for millions of years, was it possible that their minds had devolved? Were they near-sighted, cannibalistic dullards when stripped of their technology?

"There are earth-dragons on the planet now," said Vendevorex. "Why didn't you assist them instead of humans?"

"Because they weren't here when I arrived. I was drawn to this world by a false signal. I arrived at the correct place, but almost a century earlier than my coordinates indicated. I didn't know this; I thought I'd arrived on the wrong world, with no way of turning back. By the time the quinveris colonizers arrived, I was already imprinted on humanity."

Vendevorex shook his head. As clever as he was, he couldn't begin to fathom time travel. "How is it possible to arrive a hundred years ahead of schedule?"

The boy's white toga slipped on his shoulder as he shrugged. "I got lost."

"He's the lost city of Atlantis," said Zeeky.

Vendevorex knew the girl had said the words innocently. She didn't possess the cultural background to understand the joke. Vendevorex turned and said, "I'll leave you to your work."

"Thank you," said Atlantis.

He walked away. Zeeky hopped down from the planter and followed him. When they were far out of the range of the boy's hearing, she whispered, "You're figuring out if you should kill him."

Vendevorex looked down at the strange little blonde girl. As Shay was recovering, Jandra had filled him in somewhat on the powers of perception that had resulted from the goddess's genetic engineering.

"This is a curious notion," he said.

"You're afraid of what might happen if he gets his powers back. You think mankind-and dragonkind-are going to be better off without him. You already know how to use his tools. You think you can teach folks to use these tools in a less dangerous way."

Vendevorex stopped. "You know a lot for a girl whose main claim to fame up to now was an ability to talk to pigs."

"I was born with some gifts," she said. "When I was a captive, Jazz gave me others." She bit her lip after she said that. "Don't tell Jandra. She'll be worried."

"Should she be worried?"

"No," said Zeeky. "Jazz was a bad woman. I'm a nice girl."

"I see. As a nice girl, tell me your opinion. Should I kill Atlantis?"

"Could you?" she asked.