a nearby target startled Daniel more than he'd thought he had the energy for right at the moment. The dragon's skull deformed; half the upper beak and a splash of brains flew off in the humid air.
Daniel turned his head. Count Klimov held his gun to his shoulder. He fired three more times, the recoil of each round rocking him back. He was walking the slugs down the dragon's spine, breaking it into segments which trembled in separate rhythms. The creature was no longer a danger, even by accident.
Klimov lowered his impeller; waste heat from the projectiles it'd accelerated made the barrel glow dull red. He looked at Daniel. "I decided I didn't need that trophy, Captain," he said.
Daniel tried to get to his feet. He used his gun as a pole, but it folded under the stress. The dragon's beak had sheared halfway through the aluminum receiver.
"Very good shooting, sir," Daniel said. He braced himself on one knee, then lurched fully upright. Klimovna leaned on one elbow, so at least she hadn't been killed.
"Somebody want to get this fucking car off me?" Hogg demanded.
Daniel walked to the vehicle, bent, and switched off the power; the fan slowed with a peevish moan. "I'm very sorry, Hogg," he said. "I'm afraid lifting the car will have to wait for the crew I see coming toward us from the Princess Cecile."
He waved to indicate matters had settled down. Raising his arm sent a line of jagged pain all the way to the toes of his left foot.
Had the knife Hogg threw survived the Count's shot? Pray God it had, because you could never tell when you'll need something like that again.
"Captain Leary?" the