“Then we’re pressed for time in that respect. When will Pantheon notify Earth you’re here?”
“I just arrived. They won’t know I’m missing for a week, so the news won’t come until the next shuttle returns through the worm hole. Can you help me in time?”
“Pantheon doesn’t bother me,” Lazar mused. His mind hummed with ideas for Savoy’s second round of gene editing; he didn’t get many opportunities to edit humans since leaving Draco. This and Savoy’s high stakes commitment increased his desire to help. “And yes, we have time to edit you. But I’m afraid your sighting and activities will bring the law down on us quickly.”
“I didn’t enjoy killing that man, in fact I found it utterly repugnant,” Savoy said. He grabbed Lazar’s arm. “The blood lust, can you remove that, too? I’m not a killer, I’m just a dragon shifter. I want to fly but I don't want to kill like Nate did.” He glanced off, his mouth and brow pinched. “I’ve never known fear, never been assaulted—you know how it is on Draco, all love and good times. Killing that man horrified me. I never want to feel that again.”
Lazar searched Savoy’s eyes. The man held hope and sincerity in his gaze. “You’re a genetic anomaly on Earth. You won’t find kinship anywhere; you’ll always be an outsider. You’ve risked all to get here, but have you thought of the difficulties you’ll encounter on Earth?”
Grief rippled across Savoy’s face, and the words came out thick and grating like gravel. “I could never be happy on Draco, working the surface.” But he glanced up with hope. “I want to use my dragon shifting for a better purpose than making rich people richer. I don't know how, but somewhere, I’ll find my place, where I’m meant to be. A place where all of that you mentioned doesn’t matter.”
Much of Lazar’s time was spent with government lackeys, corporate fools, and wealthy idiots, where sincerity and genuine desire to help were a novelty. In contrast, a light glowed in Savoy’s eyes, a light of hope and faith and determination, a genuine light Lazar had not witnessed in a long time.
He has more faith and hope than I do. How can I not help him, especially if I get to spit in Pantheon’s eye?
“We shouldn’t consider this lightly,” he said solemnly. “I mean, we’re thwarting Pantheon, a powerful entity. And you killing a man and flying about will probably draw out Dreya and her FBI team. Add all that up and--I’m in.” He grinned and rose, motioning Savoy to follow. “Come on, I’ll need a blood sample to start.”
He opened the locked door to his private laboratory in the basement. He’d be breaking federal law, but the dirt he had on Pantheon and the congressional cabal who collected kickbacks from the black ops station kept him immune. What appealed to him most was thumbing his nose at Pantheon. “They can’t do anything to me,” he mused aloud. He stopped to issue a warning. “But they’ll most certainly come for you, you know. Dreya and her team, they’re edited and they’ll find you.”
“I remember them from Draco when Nate went flying and killing,” Savoy replied. In somber tones, he added, “I look forward to meeting them.”
Downstairs, Lazar prepped Savoy’s arm for the blood draw. As the deep red blood filled the syringe, Savoy said, “Once you fix me so I can’t work the surface, I have nothing to run from, Doc. I’m free to find where I belong.” He gazed off and his voice went soft. “I’ve experienced two miracles. All I need is one more.”
For the second time in his life, Arcadian sat with an IV in his arm and a genetic altering cocktail ready to stream into his body.
Dear God, please let me be doing the right thing.
Lazar said, “I examined your DNA and found a single gene from the chameleon, whether on purpose or by accident, I can’t say. The ability to dragon shift is permanently hard wired, but your lung ability is a subset of the edits that gave you wings. I reworked the wings edits and removed both the blood lust and the lung capacity to work the surface.”
A silence settled as Arcadian pondered his situation. But he’d already done the math. If he were sent back to Draco without his lungs, he’d be downgraded to a menial laborer in Purgatory, the fifth level of Draco, and the last stop before hell on the surface of Draco Prime.
The last time he checked pay grades, working the rest of his life as menial labor wouldn’t pay for his ticket back to Draco. He knew Pantheon, ever conscious of the bottom line, would cut him loose.
“Are you sure you’re ready to proceed?”
“Making me a dragon without surface lungs or the killing urge is the third miracle, Doc. From here on, I have no choice but to ride the winds of fate. I don't know where I belong, but I’ve been to hell on Draco, so come what may, my future is on Earth. Let her rip Doc. I’m ready.”
Chapter Three
Six Weeks Later
“Arcadian Savoy the third, step up.”
In the secret chambers of a federal judge somewhere in Washington DC, Arcadian lifted his chin at the sound of his name. His words to Lazar about not fearing prison came back to haunt him, as he had surrendered to Dreya and her team and been legally processed. With the future and his destiny waiting, he dared to stare the judge full in the eye.
No matter where you sentence me, you’ll not stop me. I’m more than you are--I’m a dragon shifter from Draco. And I’m here to discover where I belong.
He blinked slowly, unwilling to let fear rise in his heart. If there was one thing he’d learned since leaving Draco Station, it was …
You never know how things are going to turn out.
“Mr. Savoy, having
