Prairie Fire (11 page)

Owen would learn to slay new dragons. His fire crew would see new fires and his medics, new injuries. Courtney would plan and build, and our smith would keep everything in one piece. Even if I was only a messenger, like the officer who had brought Porter notice this morning, I would do it proudly. I would be next to Owen, to Squad Thorskard, and I would be able to make sure that word got out of what we did here.

We'd been worried that Alberta would be boring. There were two more dragon attacks, both Wapiti Blues this time, before the first day was even over. It was going to be an interesting fall.

DISPOSABLE CIVILIANS

“I have no idea why I am here,” Nick said, twirling a piece of fried potato on his fork while he chewed. Usually, I was against people speaking with their mouths full, but we had to eat in such a hurry that it was better to combine eating and talking. “I mean, I get that we can be assigned anywhere. That's the point. But I thought they would at least, you know, attempt to put us somewhere useful.”

“Maybe they expect you to learn,” said Kaori. She did not speak with her mouth full. She was far too efficient for that.

“Easy for you to say,” Nick said, spearing a new potato. “You can at least
see
mountains from here. I'm used to skyscrapers and wires, and it is
so flat
.”

I looked out the window. It wasn't that flat. But then again, I had seen Saskatchewan quite recently, so perhaps I was biased.

“Imagine if you ended up in a city,” Nick went on, looking at Owen now, “all buildings and people. You'd feel weird too.”

Owen had never slayed a dragon in a city, or even in a really populated area. Aodhan always took care of the ones that made it into Trondheim or any of the surrounding towns. The closest we'd ever gotten to a populated area was the time a
siligoinis
mistook the model cows on the Port Albert mini-golf course for the actual cows in the fields behind it. That had been one of our better showings, actually, because Owen got to take pictures with approximately ten million children afterwards, which Emily assured us was the best kind of press, and then we got free ice cream and lifetime passes.

“I see your point,” Owen said.

“Alberta is not a posting of renown,” Kaori said. “We all know this. And yet none of us are particularly incompetent.”

“Thanks,” said Nick.

“I think she meant we can work together,” I said. “Between the three of you, you can handle pretty much anything.”

Both Nick and Kaori looked at me. I could tell they weren't entirely sure what to make of me, most of the time. Everyone in Nick's support squad was much older than he was, as was typical of an American team, and the majority of Kaori's didn't speak English well enough yet to really mingle. They had clearly expected to become comrades with Owen out of the gate and weren't sure what to do with the fact that he was already so close to his squad. By the time you added me to the countermelody, they felt entirely off the beat.

“That is true, Siobhan,” Kaori said, nodding formally. Japan was one of the few places in the world where bards still existed, though they were not specific to one dragon slayer. I hoped that a few weeks of training would take the edge off her coolly proper dealings with me. “We do possess an interesting skill set.”

“Are you going to eat that?” Nick asked me, gesturing at the overly-blackened bacon on my tray. I shook my head and motioned for him to take it while I struggled with my water bottle. Owen didn't open it for me, though he usually did when we were in a hurry. He knew I wanted to look good in front of them. While I tried to get a drink, they fell to talking about past dragon slayings, as dragon slayers usually did when other topics weren't at hand.

Meal times had lengthened a bit since Basic, but our new habits stuck hard, and our squad was usually done well in advance of everyone else. The extra time allowed me to eat in a slightly more dignified way, but I still had to rush more than was generally considered polite. It gave the dragon slayers time to talk, discovering each other's past experience and fomenting a potentially less than friendly competition among them, except that Owen and Kaori didn't care, and Nick was probably making up most of his American Basic Training horror stories. I could respect that.

“It ate all the miniature ponies?” Nick interjected when Owen got to my favourite part of that first camping trip with Aodhan.

“Well, not all of them,” Owen allowed. “But most of them, yes.” Living with so many farm kids as he had over the past two years, he was more or less immune to animals' unfortunate demises.

“That's depressing,” Nick said. “I hate it when animals get stuck in the crossfire.”

“You slay dragons in New York,” I said. “What kinds of animals besides rats and pigeons do you have?”

“Well, people have dogs,” Nick said. “And thanks to urban farming initiatives, there are more and more chickens.” He shuddered. “I hate chickens.”

“You may have come to the wrong place,” Owen said, not unkindly.

“What's wrong with chickens?” I asked.

“They have beady little eyes,” Nick informed me. “Like they're planning something.”

“I can guarantee you that chickens are too stupid to plan anything,” I told him.

“Good to know,” he said, “but I think the New York chickens might have an evolutionary edge somewhere in their gene pool.”

“What happened after the miniature ponies?” Kaori asked, trying to get the conversation back on track before we ran out of time.

Owen smiled and began detailing the rest of that particular encounter. Having been there, not to mention having made up most of the official version, I tuned out. It had been a long time since I'd delighted in remembering the differences between what actually happened and what I told the press. Instead, I looked over at where our support crew was sitting. They didn't look like they missed us too badly, but Annie caught my eye and, out of sight of the American firefighter who was talking, made a slightly less than polite hand gesture that suggested her southern counterparts might be prone to talking too much. I did my best not to laugh.

“If I could have your attention,” Porter said loudly from the front of the mess. He was very good at just appearing in places without giving himself away. It was probably the SAS training. In any case, we all set down whatever we were eating (except Nick, who was still working on my unwanted bacon), and turned to see him. “We are starting rotations this morning. Crawford, report to training field A. Yamamoto, field B. Thorskard, just follow along.”

We knew he meant
now
without his having to say it. Nick grabbed the rest of Owen's potatoes in his hand, when Owen would have pitched them, and headed off with his squad. He was shorter than Owen but broader, and managed not to be dwarfed by his team. Kaori wordlessly fell into step with her crew as well and headed in the opposite direction. I took my usual place beside Courtney as we filed after Porter, with Owen and Annie at the head of the rank, Aarons and the crew behind them, and the medics bringing up the rear.

We followed Lieutenant Porter through the concrete corridors of the Oil Watch base. There were lines painted on the floor to help with navigation: Blue would take you to the infirmary, red to command and yellow to any of the various training fields. We headed in the opposite direction than usual though, which meant we were in for some new kind of excitement. Not everyone had the best sense of direction in the monotony of the hallways, but I could tell the moment everyone realized that we were headed someplace new. By the time we were close enough to smell the dragon, even Wilkinson, who was terrible without a map, had figured out that we were headed towards the disposal yard.

“Well, this should be fun,” Courtney whispered to me, not quite quietly enough.

“I heard that, Speed,” Porter said. “Mind your manners now. Not everyone is as lax when it comes to punishments as I am.”

“Yes, sir,” Courtney said, her tone deceptively sweet. I winced, but Porter just laughed and preceded us into the disposal area.

It was a dragon I had never seen before. At first I thought it was a corn dragon, but its tail was far too long—as long as its whole body.

“Josephson?” Porter asked expectantly.

“An Athabascan Longtail,” Laura said immediately. “Commonly referred to as a 'Bascan Long.”

“Thank you,” Porter said. “This dragon inhabits the northern forests. It is the second-most common to Alberta, after the Wapiti; however, it is significantly easier to kill. Any idea why, McQuaid?”

Lieutenant Porter almost never directly asked me a question unless he was making a point, preferring to leave it for the fire crew to answer. I thought for a second. It did look like a corn dragon, after all.

“It's stupid,” I said. “It gets its tail caught in the trees when it chases you.”

“An excellent guess,” he said. “And correct. The 'Bascan Long is excruciatingly stupid. Get it to land and then double back on itself, and it is yours for the slaying. This particular specimen, however, is yours for the disposing.”

We all wrinkled our noses. It was inevitable that this part of our training would come. In the wild, we would have to dispose of our own slayed dragons. At least they were letting us practice where we were surrounded by concrete and couldn't do any real damage to the ecosystem.

“This is Isagani Torres, who supervises Fort Calgary's disposal efforts,” Porter went on, gesturing to the far side of the area where the official disposal crew waited. “He's in charge for the rest of the morning. If you need to vomit, please do so in that corner over there.”

“And they said dragon slaying would be glamorous,” Owen whispered to me.

“Actually, I'm pretty sure the guidance counselor said we were insane,” I reminded him.

“That's just because she's from Mississauga and doesn't understand the complexities of rural communities yet,” Owen said. He was laughing now, which I was always glad to see.

“Just think,” I told him. “If you'd gone where Sadie is, you'd be learning to do this in scuba gear.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Owen said, shuddering. For just a moment, there was an odd distance in his eyes, and I knew that he missed her more than he would ever admit to me. I didn't mind. It mystified people that Sadie and I didn't get jealous of the other's hold on Owen, but I had given up trying to explain it. Some people just look for drama for drama's sake.

“Do you think it's weird that all the disposal people are civilians?” I asked.

Owen looked at them sharply, and I knew he was really seeing them for the first time. “I hadn't even noticed,” he confirmed, sounding disappointed in himself. “And yes, Aunt Lottie said that disposal units were usually part of the Oil Watch.”

“Maybe it's just for training,” I suggested. “And the military units are out and about.”

“Have you seen any?” Owen asked.

“No,” I said. “And I've seen at least three different civilian crews.”

“It is weird,” Owen said. “I mean, I get the idea of outsourcing, but this just seems …”

“Uncomfortably racist?” I suggested.

“Well, yes,” Owen agreed, rubbing his face. Most people only saw his blond hair and dragon slayer shoulders. At most they assumed he was tanned from being outside a lot. But he wasn't. His skin was that colour in the dead of winter.

“What are you talking about?” asked Jeremy, appearing beside me.

“It's probably nothing,” I said. “Don't worry about it.”

Owen's expression was still troubled though, and I knew he wouldn't be so easily put off. Hopefully this training session would involve pairing us off with the disposal unit, or at least breaking us into smaller groups. Then I could ask some questions. Owen knew better than to poke around, I knew. He was excellent at getting people in charge to tell him things, but I was better with strangers. He nodded when I made eye contact, and I knew he already felt better having a plan.

“If you three are finished,” Porter said, “you've got some work to do.”

I looked at the dragon and sighed. He wasn't wrong about that.