Dragon Gems (Spring 2023)

Dragon Gems

Spring 2023

Published by Water Dragon Publishing

waterdragonpublishing.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for the purpose of review and/or reference, without explicit permission in writing from the publishers.

Cover design copyright © 2023 by Niki Lenhart

nikilen-designs.com

ISBN 978-1-959804-61-1 (EPUB)

First Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Foreword

copyright © 2023 by Steven D. Brewer

Afterword

copyright © 2023 by Vanessa MacLaren-Wray

Butter Me Up and Float Me Sideways

copyright © 2023 by Arasibo Campeche

Dead Man’s Hand

copyright © 2023 by Philip Brian Hall

Depth of Field

copyright © 2023 by Tom Howard

Devil of Greystern Castle

copyright © 2023 by Michael D. Burnside

Discerning Oar

copyright © 2023 by Jason P. Burnham

Elegy of Carbon

copyright © 2023 by Benjamin C. Kinney

Fields of Ice

copyright © 2023 by Jay Caselberg

Fifteen Minutes

copyright © 2023 by Mike Morgan

Forest of the Fates

copyright © 2023 by Elyse Russell

Mind of Charlie Wrath

copyright © 2023 by Laura J. Campbell

Minions of Gologoth

copyright © 2023 by Jason Restrick

Nummo for Your Ignorance

copyright © 2023 by Tim Kane

Shadows from the Past

copyright © 2023 by Veronica L. Asay

Sugar Apples

copyright © 2023 by Stephen McQuiggan

Those Who Turn From God

copyright © 2023 by Warren Benedetto

Why the Sea Doesn’t Smell of Fish

copyright © 2023 by Sam Muller

All rights reserved.

Foreword

You're about to experience something amazing. Months ago — maybe even years ago — someone had an inkling and began to write. Lonely and alone, they struggled and persisted. They wrote. They agonized over the details. They revised. They sweated over the language. They considered each sentence, each word. And, finally, they gathered up all of their courage and sent their little creation off to battle in the submission arena.

Oh, there were many fierce battles! There were many, many competitors and many bouts. After every round, they patched their little champion up and sent them in again. And, in the end, they emerged victorious. They received the happy announcement: their champion was a winner! Their story had been accepted for publication!

You, the reader, get to reap the results of this winnowing. You're about to enjoy the delights of a dozen amazing stories. They may look ordinary, but don't be fooled! They fought tooth and nail to be here for you, among these Dragon Gems. Savor their victory. And yours!

Steven D. Brewer

Author of the Revin’s Heart series

Mike Morgan was born in London, but not in any of the interesting parts. He moved to Japan at the age of 30 and lived there for many years. Nowadays, he’s based in Iowa, and enjoys family life with his wife and two young children.

•          •          •

I think many parents will understand the inspiration for this story: the mind-worm of a thought that one day you’ll forget your child is in your car and leave them locked inside, only to find them dead when you return. When my kids were very little we lived in Texas, so we’d hear often about animals and children suffering terribly from being locked in cars, even for short times. I suppose it’s not such a surprise that concern was never far from my thoughts. Mine is the sort of brain that then thinks What if you add aliens to the mix? and — hey presto — there you have it: the most inconvenient timing imaginable for an alien invasion.

Fifteen Minutes

Mike Morgan

Porsche and clementine were arguing in the rear of the car. They were so loud their father, Colin Hamble, kept checking for cracks in the rear window.

Colin tried distracting them with a handheld games console he kept in the glove box for just this sort of emergency, waving it at them with one hand while negotiating the roundabout near their house. His efforts met with miserable failure. It seemed the toffee-flavored lollipop they were battling over was far more interesting than a retro arcade game.

The ride home had, so far, been a headache-inducing experience. For Colin, at least. For the kids, it was another normal twenty-five-minute trip back from school.

Being five and seven years old, respectively, it didn’t occur to them that Daddy didn’t enjoy full-throated screams coming from the back seats of the vehicle. At least they were nearly home.

Home, yes. Where he expected he’d have to listen to yet another telephone message from his ex-wife, Olga. The second-generation descendant of Russian steel workers had a way of talking that left Colin a nervous wreck.

Her current demand was that Colin ship her last few possessions to her new address. Since these possessions were an extensive collection of commemorative plates featuring various members of the royal family, and her new address was in South America, he was not looking forward to hours of wrapping each piece of china in bubble wrap, let alone paying the postage.

Have you considered not being foul to each other? asked Colin as he pulled up the handbrake handle and swung open his door.

The caterwauling from the back seats did not diminish one iota. Colin took a deep breath, shut the driver’s door, and stepped up onto the pavement in front of his semi-detached house. Tomorrow was the fourth anniversary of his ex-wife’s abrupt decision to run away to Uruguay and take up bricklaying.

Olga took pains during the irregular video calls Colin organized to slide in comments about what a lousy job he was doing as a father. Finding fault was a talent of hers. That and bricklaying, obviously.

He was reaching out to Porsche’s child-locked handle, wondering whether the prospect of a chocolate hobnob from the biscuit barrel hidden on top of the fridge might defuse his daughters’ interminable squabbling, when the aliens’ teleport beam caught him.

The next thing Colin knew, he was standing in a close-packed crowd of naked men and women. Inside a flickering blue force field. With no clothes on. In a room that did not appear to be of Earthly design. And he was nude.

Clem? Porsche? There was no sign of his children.

He was God knew where, and the kids were locked in the car.

•          •          •

Colin estimated there were a hundred people in the shimmering pen, crammed into an area way too small for comfort. It was standing room only, and for once that wasn’t an exaggeration.

The shocked mass of humanity wasn’t enjoying the complete absence of attire. Many of the jostling men and women were attempting to cover up using their bare hands. Colin wasn’t a fan of going au naturel either, but decided to get over his awkwardness. Enforced nudity was the least of their problems. Besides, he was English. Being embarrassed was his default state.

He tried to piece together what must have happened. One second, he’d been reaching for the car door handle, the next — pow! — here he was, body still tingling with the aftereffects of some sort of physical dislocation. It felt as if his body had been ripped from one place and dumped in another. What had caused it? A teleportation device, like in Star Trek?

What did that mean? He, and everyone else here, had been abducted by aliens? They were on board something that certainly gave the impression of being a spaceship, which meant that most likely they were no longer on Earth. What was happening down on their fragile blue-and-green world? Was Shropshire now a smoking ruin?

Colin looked around, his heart beating wildly. No matter how hard he searched, there was no sign of his young children.

So, teleportation, then. But not for everyone. And the ones who’d been scooped up were corralled like livestock. Priorities began to coalesce in Colin’s mind.

The aliens had either not bothered to bring their prisoners’ clothes along for the ride or they’d vaporized them during transit. Either way, it struck Colin as a deliberate attempt to intimidate their victims. Or a means of stripping the crowd of anything that could be used as a weapon.

His position near the edge of the throng gave Colin a clear view of a lady with voluminous hair, stepping backward. She was trying to avoid being pushed by the unpredictable motion of the crowd. Before he could call out a warning, the woman had blundered into the force field.

There was a bright flash and a yelp from the woman.

Bugger! That stung! she exclaimed, more cross than injured.

Colin didn’t have the luxury to ponder this turn of events. A guttural voice cut through the hubbub of annoyed captives. The voice of their new alien overlords, Colin assumed.

The aliens were giving a speech. It was in English, so that was a relief.

•          •          •

We are Torgoth, began the voice, struggling more than a little with the nuances of the unfamiliar language. We rule your world now. We bring all useful humans here. You are slaves, you belong to Torgoth. Soon, you all be sold to great empires of this galaxy, on many other worlds.

Wait, they were a species capable of interstellar travel, and they were kidnapping humans for slave labor? That made zero sense to Colin. Any species sophisticated enough to build spacecraft that powerful wouldn’t need slaves.

He poked his head around the taller prisoners blocking his view and glimpsed the creature giving the speech.

It was large and blubbery, standing on four limbs that sprouted from a torso wrapped in tatty furs. Its body sported two other appendages, presumably the equivalents of arms, as well as a long, rectangular head. The toothy maw from which the voice was emanating was positioned at the top of the smooth face.

Furs? breathed Colin. What, no artificial fibers? The Torgoth didn’t run to nylon?

Colin was the first to admit he was no expert in extra-terrestrial life, but this fellow didn’t give the impression of being a representative of a technologically advanced species.

First we take the humans of the major population center you call Shrewsbury. Next, we capture Telford and part of Much Wenlock.

From this pronouncement, it was clear the aliens were abducting the people of Shropshire town by town. Colin could hardly imagine where it would all end. Was even Herefordshire safe?

Colin craned his head, looking left and right. Sure enough, there were other groups of unclad people in similar pens to either side. So, the alien’s claim of mass kidnappings was true. Shrewsbury was home to more than thirty thousand.

Tens of thousands of point-to-point teleportations? The construction of a vast starship? Those accomplishments required extraordinary technology.

Colin pursed his lips. They didn’t build this vessel. They’ve half-inched it, he decided.

He didn’t bother listening to the rest of the speech; it was predictable and depressing. Do as we say, or we’ll kill you, blah blah. The Torgoth were interested purely in their human chattels staying quiet during transit.

Having delivered its spiel, the quadrupedal slave-master moved on, no doubt to stand outside an adjacent pen and repeat its instructions.

How much time had passed since his kidnapping? Colin’s mind raced. At least three minutes, maybe four. Too much time.

He had to do something. He had to do something right away.

I know how to get out of here, said Colin to the people pressed against him, at first with a stutter and then with growing confidence. I know how to beat these creatures. Do as I say, and we’ll be out of here in no time.

Heads began to turn in his direction. Colin wasn’t used to people listening to him. They usually talked over the top of him the second he attempted to offer an opinion.

Honestly, he went on, I’m in engineering. I know about machines. Those guys didn’t make any of this. I bet they stole this ship. If the best they can do with the technology is to abduct salves, my guess is they don’t even know how to work half of it. We can exploit that weakness, turn the tables on them.

Colin could hardly credit it, but the crowd was nodding, looking interested. For a few seconds, Colin allowed himself to think his speech might work.

Then a full-framed man with hairy shoulders decided to stick his nose in.

We can’t just stop a bunch of alien slavers, objected the hairy-shouldered man. We’re trapped inside a force field. We’ve got no weapons. We haven’t even got clothes! Be reasonable.

Colin could sense he was losing the confidence of the group. He had to say something stirring. He had to keep them on-side, and he had to do it sharpish.

Word tumbling upon word in an unplanned heap, Colin gabbled, My last name is Hamble. Do you know what it means? In Middle English, I mean. It’s a name from Middle English.

He was rewarded with a sea of blank looks. He couldn’t blame his audience — he wasn’t entirely certain where he was going with this, either.

Since we don’t have phones to Google it on, I’ll just tell you. It means ‘to hamstring or mutilate.’

Colin smiled, what he was going to say next coming to him in a revelatory flash. I’m going to live up to my family’s name. I’m going to make these things rue the day they thought they could come to our planet and muck humankind about. We’re not only going to stop this invasion, we’re going to set a record for the fastest defeat of an alien threat in galactic history. We’re going to show these chancers exactly what humans are capable of! We’ll send them packing in fifteen minutes flat!

Arms crossed, the hirsute heckler asked, What’s the great big hurry? Why do we need to beat them in the next quarter of an hour? You trying to be all Warhol — getting in your fifteen minutes of fame?

Because I left my kids in my car and that’s how long they’ve got before they overheat and die. Colin took a deep breath. So, I promise you this. We’re going to stomp these git-faced poseurs, take over their ship, reverse their teleportation device, and get home. And we’re doing it fast enough for our children to still be safe when we get back.

He let that sink in. There’s no way I’m the only parent here. I’m speaking to the mothers, the fathers, the grandparents now. Look around you. Do you see your children, your grandkids? Well, do you? No, the Torgoth left them behind. Children, babies, infants, they’re all unproductive units that’ve been left to die. The clock is ticking, and we need to save them.

A woman shrieked in horror. My Natalie is napping in her crib! I left the potatoes boiling on the hob. The house could burn down!

He pointed at her. She gets it. Every second counts. Anyone who wants to argue, sod off out our way. The rest of you, let’s take this ship.

An older gent with a pronounced limp pushed through the crowd to Colin, clapped him on the shoulder, and roared, You heard the man! We’re hamstringing the lot of ‘em!

He inclined his head and whispered in Colin’s ear, Please, God, tell me you have a plan.

•          •          •

You want us to run at the force field, repeated the silver-haired gent. He’d introduced himself as Gerald. Now, he seemed to be regretting his earlier show of support.

It won’t hurt us, Colin assured the dubious throng. You saw what happened earlier. It gave that lady with the big hair a bit of a shock, but it was non-lethal.

You think the Torgoth have imprisoned us in a cell that won’t kill us if we try to get out? scoffed hairy-shoulders.

I think the Torgoth have hot-wired a ship constructed by a civilized species. And a civilized species is going to make a glorified electric fence that’s purely a deterrent. It’s enough to shock but not permanently injure.

You willing to bet on that?

You willing to be the one who rolls over when we could’ve escaped?

Hairy-shoulders shut up.

Gerald coughed politely. We run at it. Then what?

We run at it in waves. We pile up our bodies and refuse to move out of the shock range. That triggers the safety cut-out. Then the next lot of us make a dash for the hatch over there. We find the crew, overwhelm them by force of numbers and take their weapons. Next, we find and take over the ship’s control area. Once we have control of the ship, we restrain the Torgoth and persuade them to hit ‘undo’ on the teleporters.

Undo? Colin could hear the air quotes in Gerald’s voice.

Control-zed cannot be a concept so original the people who built this ship didn’t think of it.

Fair enough, allowed the older man.

Everyone goes home. A few of us stay behind to contact the ship’s original owners to come get their stolen property, avoiding any risk of retaliation for keeping what doesn’t belong to us. We can even see if there’s compensation available from whatever passes as the galactic police, since it sounds like the galaxy is teeming with organized life, and at this point nothing would surprise me.

I see. Gerald nodded. You make it all sound so straightforward.

Yes. Now, if you all don’t mind, could we make a start, please? Kind of in a hurry.

The woman with the huge frizz of hair called out, Who exactly is running into the electric fence thing? Because I’d like to volunteer to not do that part.

Damn, he’d expected this type of objection. He hadn’t thought of a way of answering it yet, but he’d definitely seen it coming. For a moment, Colin thought he heard Olga’s no-nonsense tones, remarking how unutterably useless he was.

To Colin’s surprise, instead of responding to the outburst Gerald motioned to hairy-shoulders. My dear chap, and all you gentlemen standing next to him, can I impose on you a little?

You’re not asking us to go first, are you?

Good God, no. I’m suggesting you give the people in front of you a push. Make them go first. Yes, that’s the ticket. Just like that. Yes, keep going. Pick up some steam there. We need a fair bit of momentum. Yes, that’s right.

There was a considerable amount of noise and anguish from the people being shoved. Then there was a pronounced sizzling sound. Then there were screams. And shrieks. And a number of full-throated howls that quite surprised Colin because he hadn’t known human vocal cords could produce sounds like that.

Used to be in the army, Gerald confided to Colin. Quite miss it.

The screams continued.

Gerald smiled politely. Hate to be a bore. Feel I have to ask, though. Shouldn’t the force field contraptions have turned off by now?

Um, said Colin. Possibly. He winced at a particularly high-pitched screech.

The ex-army officer nodded. I see. This plan of yours. Bit of a work in progress, is it?

The thing about engineering is, replied Colin, is that really well designed plans often don’t work, and we have to try something else.

Leaving to one side how your first idea was completely wrong, am I correct in thinking you have a ‘something else’ up your sleeve?

No, reflected Colin, he really didn’t. Maybe Olga was right. Maybe he was good for nothing. He looked upward. It was a reflexive gesture, the sort of thing he always did when seeking inspiration or not wanting to answer an awkward question.

He saw it.

The field emitter. The device that produced the force field. It was overhead. Twenty feet, maybe twenty-five, directly above them.

The silver globe glowed with the same blue energy as the pen’s walls. It had to be the source of the force fields. There was an opening at its base. Colin could glimpse fragile circuitry within.

Bit of a personal question, sorry. Do you, by any chance, happen to have false teeth?

Beg your pardon?

A long shot, I know. The aliens took our clothes, but I’m hoping they left us with artificial body parts. I need something to throw. Something conductive, with metal in it. Like the cobalt-chromium alloy that you find in the wires and plates that hold false teeth together.

Wordlessly, Gerald took out his bottom teeth. I want those back, he said with a stern expression.

The pens didn’t have safety cut-outs. Okay, that had been a miscalculation. But the corrals came with the ship, Colin was sure. The Torgoth hadn’t built them. That meant they had an original purpose. Not for transporting slaves, no, but for moving something else. Dangerous organisms, maybe? Things that weren’t intelligent? Things that wouldn’t know a force field emitter when they saw it, he hoped. Because if that was true, the emitters wouldn’t be shielded.

Colin ignored the sliminess of the half-denture and squinted at the target. He drew in a breath, held it, and with memories of every cricket match he’d ever bowled at running through his mind, he hurled the u-shaped object up at the silver machine.

The teeth missed by a good four feet.

Yeah, breathed Colin. Always was hopeless at bowling. Got thrown off my last pub team.

He did catch the teeth as they fell. He was a much better fielder.

Gerald coughed. Give them here. I’ll do it.

He scored a direct hit on the first go. The teeth sailed through the opening without touching the edges.

There was a loud pop and the field emitter cut out.

•          •          •

Colin blinked, rather taken aback, as an ecstatic hairy-shoulders jumped over twitching heaps of stunned human flesh, yelling at the top of his lungs. Others sprang into action as well, following his lead.

Ah, observed Gerald. Our friend has noticed the barrier is down. From his happy demeanor, I’d say he’s found his calling in life. Do excuse me. I’ll be pootling off myself to bag a Torgoth. I have the suspicion they don’t like it up them.

Gerald started hobbling after the much younger, and hairier, man, but paused for a second. You can leave the rest to us.

Colin glanced at his wrist before remembering he didn’t have his watch on anymore. Try to be quick, he begged. We’re almost out of time.

Gerald nodded, a dark gleam in his eyes. Yes, of course. I do understand. I have a grandchild, barely six weeks old. The urgency is not lost on me. We would murder the world for our children. He snorted. A few Torgoth are trivial by comparison.

The old soldier set off across the wide deck of the starship.

In the distance, Colin saw a Torgoth being rugby tackled. Not knowing how to play any Earthly sport, let alone one so violent, it went down with a squeal. Seconds later, the triumphant human wrestled free what looked like a remote control and the walls of every other pen snapped out of existence.

With hundreds of reinforcements, Colin was half tempted to join in with the hand-to-hand combat. But, really, these things were best left to people with the right temperaments, and to even get to a Torgoth now he’d have to push his way through crowds of people, and he didn’t want to be rude.

•          •          •

I’m back! screamed Colin, every