Dragon Sword Read Online Free PDF Page A

for the central
authorities, whose security forces are looking for me.
    Mr. Howe is monitoring the progress
that Sandusky the nest-“dad” ( dad is peculiar mammalian
shorthand for “sire,” but it pops off the tongue nicely) is making
with his own time-vessel.
    Dad. I just like saying it.
Certain Earth Orange words are like fizzy bubbles on your flavor
nodes. Jazz. That’s another one. Howdy. They have
much interesting language here.
    As for this vessel, that might be
too ambitious a description. It’s not an object that moves or goes
anywhere on its own, but simply a “time sphere.” The idea behind it
is similar to Melonokus’s saying about the stages we pass through
while young: “Your shell cracks, and the universe changes.” This
sphere seems to be more of a crack, or a tear, in the fabric of
time, one that Sandusky created in his laboratory. I believe it was
an accident — at least the severity and extent of the rip suggest
so.
    Eli was exposed to some of the
energy released by the accident, and the atomic structure of his
body seems to have changed, making him able to traverse the Fifth
Dimension by himself , without an actual vessel. My skin gets
all tar-pitty just thinking about it. Imagine the oral reports he
could deliver at school!
    Below me, they’re still arguing
about the power residing in the body of this young mammal. In some
ways, I may be one of the causes of the current
situation.
    “ It wasn’t an accident, Sands! You
let him go on purpose. You sent him. You don’t have any authority
to send him on missions. I mean, my God, World War Two!”
    “ I’m his father. I know that
doesn’t count for much in your book, but do you think I would
knowingly let him go back there?”
    I’m crouched next to a roof window
— like a small piece of hothouse glass that lets light in during
daytime — and can hear their voices coming up from below. This is a
bad place for me to hide, but at least it’s dark now. My
understanding of the rituals of some of Earth Orange’s most famous
outlaws, however, is that they would often return to the scenes of
their crimes, perhaps in order to be caught.
    But even though I have no desire to
be famous, like a group elder or a top-stomper in Cacklaw, I would
return to the lab when I was supposed to be hiding, and leave
things for my friends.
    I was careful. I left items in
places where I knew only Eli or “Dad” (My taste nodes again! Have I
mentioned the word taco yet?) would find them. Mostly, I
took bits and pieces of things I found in those Dumpsters, and I
was able to fabricate a crude version of the time compasses we use
in our vessels. If the mammals on Earth Orange were going to start
shredding the fabric of time, it seemed best to give them the means
of controlling themselves, too. Or at least point them in the right
direction.
    You’d be amazed what gets thrown
away here. I’ve found computing machines, silicon chips,
fluorescent tubing, simple electric engines, medical supplies,
pieces of dwellings, various transportation devices, chemicals,
paints and sprays, clothes, toys, and plenty of food.
    For the compass, though, all I
needed was the copper wiring from one of the engines and a
collection of highly polished sea stones.
    To those I added a battery, then
ran the wire around the rocks, setting up a series of “stops” and
“starts” for the electric impulse, to mimic crudely what is
supposed to happen to light in the simplest of chrono-compasses.
The stops and starts are like the basic ones and zeroes in simple computing devices, and I knew that
Sandusky-sire’s knowledge would lead him in the right direction to
fashion a prototype.
    Just to make sure they knew it was
from me, I’d leave a sign. I find oranges, one of the sweetest
gifts of their planet, and would place one next to my
offering.
    The last time I visited the lab,
there was an orange waiting for me, stuffed into the crevice of a
nearby tree. There was a query written on it, in