by Timothy Zahn
When dinner was over, it was time to retire to the dayroom with a glass of fizzy-soda for Jack and a bowl of orange-flavored water for Draycos. For a long, hard discussion.
"I'm sorry," Jack said after the dragon had related his version of the battle. "I know you want to get back at the people who killed your friends. But I really can't help you."
"You misunderstand me, Jack Morgan," Draycos said. He was lying on the dayroom floor on his stomach, his posture halfway between that of a dog and a cat. "I do not seek revenge. I do not even seek justice."
"Then what do you want?" Jack asked.
"I have told you already," Draycos said. "I must find those who used the Death against us."
"But if you don't want revenge—"
"Tell us more about this Death weapon," Uncle Virge's voice came from the intercom speaker. "You say it kills other beings besides K'da and Shontine. How do you know?"
"We have seen it used against others," Draycos said, the tip of his tail lashing restlessly through the air behind him. "The Valahgua are a vicious people who seek total domination of our region of space. They have already destroyed one species and scattered two others who stood in the way of that goal. The K'da and Shontine are only their most recent victims. Why do you not believe me?"
The intercom gave a soft sigh. "We find it hard to believe for the simple fact that it sounds unbelievable," Uncle Virge said candidly. "I mean, come on. A weapon that goes straight through a ship's hull without damaging it, yet kills everyone inside? How can that be possible?"
"I do not know the science," Draycos said. "It is said that the Death is a vibration of space itself, which seeks out the center core of all living beings and destroys that connection and their harmony with the universe."
"That must be the poet part of the poet-warrior coming out," Jack murmured, sipping his fizzy-soda.
"I do not know the proper words," Draycos said impatiently. "I know only the reality. If the Death has come to this region of space, your people are in great danger. Why can you not understand that?"
"We understand just fine," Uncle Virge said quietly. "Trouble is, there's something you're holding back. Something important that you're not telling us."
For a moment Draycos lay as unmoving as a statue. Then, the tip of his tail twitched again. "Very well," he said. "Let us trade secrets."
His tongue flicked out between his teeth. "You may start, Jack Morgan. Tell me why you pretend there is another human aboard this ship."
Jack felt his throat tighten. "What are you talking about?" he asked, the automatic caution of long habit kicking in. "I already explained that Uncle Virge is an invalid and can't leave his cabin."
"Do not lie to me," Draycos warned. "All beings, whether K'da or Shontine or human, leave traces of their scent in the air. There is no second human here."
"Oh, really?" Uncle Virge said huffily. "Let me tell you, my gold-scaled friend. You have a lot to learn about us humans—"
"No," Jack cut him off. After a year of deception, he was suddenly tired of the lies. Tired of all the lies. "No, it's all right. He's got us. I mean, he's got me."
"Jack, lad—"
"No," Jack said firmly. "He saved my life. He deserves to know."
He turned to Draycos. "Uncle Virge is a computer program," he told the dragon. "It's the standard ship's computer interface; only before he died, my Uncle Virgil imprinted it with his own voice and speech mannerisms."
"Interesting," Draycos murmured. "Is it alive?"
"Not like us, no," Jack said. "He can mimic a person when he talks, and he can think and reason a little. But not very much, and not outside his programming."
"I see." Draycos was silent a moment. "How long have you lived this way?"
"About a year," Jack said. "Uncle Virgil died in a... well, it was sort of an accident."
"And you have been alone ever since?" Jack shrugged. "It's not so bad. I don't get lonely much. Anyway, it wasn't like he had a lot of time for me even before that."
Draycos's ears twitched. "And why is it important that this be kept a secret?"
"Because I'm only fourteen years old," Jack said, hearing the old bitterness creeping into his voice. "According to the all-wise, all-knowing Internes fusspots, that's too young for someone to be flying alone out here. If they found out, they'd take the Essenay away from me and put me in some group home somewhere."
"Would that not be better for you?"
"I don't want it," Jack snapped. "And I don't need it. I'm fourteen—practically an adult. I don't want some governmental group home leader on my back ordering me around."
"You do not like being told what to do?"
Jack bit down hard. "I can take care of myself."
Draycos cocked his head once, as if studying him, then straightened up again. "How do you survive?" he asked. "Surely you cannot simply take what you need from others."
"Yeah, well, I could," Jack muttered. "Matter of fact, that's mostly what Uncle Virgil and I used to do."
"Pardon?"
Jack hesitated. But as long as he'd gone this far, he might as well lay out the whole ugly story. "Uncle Virgil was a safe-cracker and con man," he said.
"I do not know those terms."
"A safecracker breaks into safes and vaults and takes the things people have stored there," Jack explained, a twinge of conscience poking like a thorn into his side. "A con man uses words and schemes to talk people out of their money."
Draycos's green eyes were gazing at him with an uncomfortable intensity. "You were thieves."
"That's putting it a bit unkindly, sir," Uncle Virge protested.
"Shut up, Uncle Virge," Jack said tiredly. "Yes. We were thieves."
"And your society permits this?"
"Our society tries very hard to stop it," Jack conceded. "But Uncle Virgil was good at what he did, especially the safe-cracker part. One of the real experts in the field. The cops knew all about him, but they never caught him in the act or had enough evidence to arrest him."
"What was your part in his activities?"
"I was his helper," Jack said. "I distracted people, or played foil or backstop. He had me crack some simple safes, too, and he was starting to teach me some of the fancier tricks when he died. I think he was training me to follow in his footsteps."
"Cops," Draycos said thoughtfully, as if finally finding a jigsaw puzzle piece he'd been looking for. "That was the word. You said our attacker on the Havenseeker might be a cop. Are the authorities still seeking Uncle Virgil?"
"Actually, they're more likely seeking me," Jack said. "The funny part is that, for once, I didn't do anything."
"Explain."
"I don't steal or con anymore," Jack said. "I never really liked it, and I quit after Uncle Virgil died. But like you said, I have to eat. So I do odd jobs or hire the Essenay out for short-range transport work."
"There cannot be very much cargo space aboard this spacecraft," Draycos pointed out.
"There's enough for small jobs," Jack said. "Anyway, I was on the Vagran Colony when I heard that Braxton Universis was moving its assembly plant there to Cordolane and needed extra freighters for one-time transport jobs. I applied, they gave me ten sealed crates, and off I went."
"Who is Braxton Universis?"
"It's a what, not a who," Jack told him. "Braxton Universis is one of the biggest megacorporations in the Orion Arm. You know what a megacorporation is?"
"No."
"The Essenay is like a normal business," Jack said, waving a hand around him. "That ship of yours, the Havenseeker? That was like a megacorporation."
"I see," Draycos said. "It is a matter of size."
"Size and power both," Jack said. "Anyway, I spent the next four days on ECHO traveling to Cordolane."
"What is this ECHO?" Draycos asked. "You have mentioned it before."
" 'ECHO' stands for Extra-C Holologic Overdrive," Jack told him, "where 'C' is the symbol for the speed of light. It's the system everyone in the Orion Arm us
es to get back and forth between the stars."
"I see," Draycos said. "So you traveled to Cordolane?"
"Right," Jack said. "And when I got there—" he grimaced "—one of the boxes was empty."
The tip of Draycos's tail was making slow circles in the air. "Did you stop along the way?"
Jack shook his head. "I went straight from Vagran to the delivery point on Cordolane."
"Then there are only three possibilities," Draycos said. "The first is that an error has taken place."
"Not a chance," Jack said. "They weighed the crates right beside the Essenay, and I stood there and watched them load 'em aboard."
"I see," Draycos said. "Then the second possibility is that this was deliberately arranged to implicate you in theft."
"I'd sure like to know how," Jack said glumly. "I'd also like to know why."
"You said you and Uncle Virgil had cheated others," Draycos reminded him. "Could one of them be seeking revenge?"
"I suppose so," Jack conceded. "But then why not just have me arrested?"
"Maybe they think you still have something valuable stashed away," Uncle Virge put in. "Getting you arrested wouldn't get that back for them."
"But framing me might?" Jack shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know how any of Uncle Virgil's pigeons could have gotten access to sealed Braxton Universis cargo, though. Or how they could pull off this vanishing act, for that matter."
"You are certain the cargo disappeared?" Draycos asked.
"On Vagran, the crate weighed a hundred pounds," Jack said. "On Cordolane, it weighed ten. You said there were three possibilities?"
"Yes," Draycos said. "The third is that you are lying to me."
His long neck seemed to stretch, and even though he was still lying on the dayroom floor he suddenly seemed a lot taller. "You would not lie to me, would you, Jack Morgan?"
Jack swallowed. "This is the truth, Draycos. I swear it."
"That's why the lad can't go shouting your story from the rooftops," Uncle Virge said. "By now, Braxton Universis will have a warrant out for his arrest. With his, shall we say, somewhat checkered history, no one will believe his story about disappearing cargo."
"Ducking local cops isn't that much of a problem," Jack added. "They're usually overworked, and I know how to play them. But Braxton has their own security unit, and they're way better than everything out there except maybe Internes Police."
"What is Internes Police?" Draycos asked.
"That's the overall law enforcement unit of the Internes," Uncle Virge explained. "The Internes itself is the confederation of Earth and the various human colonies. There's also the Orion Trade Association, which includes humans and the thirty-two other intelligent alien species in the Orion Arm. And, of course, each colony and nation has its own government. Makes for quite a patchwork of laws and regulations."
"We can fill him in on local politics later," Jack said. "The point is that even if the local cops don't have time to look for me, Braxton Security does. I barely got off Cordolane ahead of them, and nearly got nailed when I tried to sneak onto Sakklif."
"That's why we were sitting on Iota Klestis when you were attacked," Uncle Virge said. "We wanted some place away from civilization where we could sit back and try to think this out."
"For which I owe you my life," Draycos said, ducking his head in an odd sort of bowing motion. "I thank you."
"Yesterday's thanks are tomorrow's cold porridge," Uncle Virge said with a sniff. "If you really want to show your thanks, you'll help us figure out what happened to the cargo."
"Of course," Draycos said, as if there had never been any doubt. "I intend to do exactly that."
Chapter 8
Jack blinked. It was about the last thing he would have expected the dragon to say. "You what?" he asked, just to make sure he'd heard it right.
"I need your assistance to find my attackers, Jack Morgan," Draycos said. "For you to move freely, we must first erase the false accusation against you. Does this not make sense?"
"It makes wonderful sense," Uncle Virge said. "And just how, may I ask, do you propose to do that?"
"We will start at the scene of the crime," Draycos said. "How long will it take to return to the Vagran Colony?"
"Not very," Jack said, touching a switch on the underside of the narrow dayroom table his fizzy-soda was sitting on. Beneath the glass, the surface changed from wood grain to a set of displays and status monitors. "Let's see..."
Uncle Virge, naturally, got there first. "At standard cruising speed we can be there in five days," he said. "If we kick up to full power, we can cut that to twenty hours. Very expensive on fuel, though."
"And it's already been over two weeks," Jack added. "Seems to me that if there were any clues there, they're long gone by now."
"Perhaps," Draycos said. "Perhaps not. All the more reason why we should return as quickly as we can."
"What won't be gone is Braxton Security," Uncle Virge pointed out. "If you walk in there, you might have trouble walking out again."
"You said they were moving that operation," Draycos reminded him. "Will they not all be gone?"
"There are bound to be a few still around tying up loose ends," Uncle Virge said.
"Anyway, the cargo was fine when I left there," Jack pointed out.
"It is still the place to start," Draycos said.
"Jack?" Uncle Virge prompted. "It's your decision."
Jack chewed his lower lip. He honestly couldn't see what good it would do them. Still, they had to start somewhere, and Vagran was probably the last place anyone would expect him to show up. "Sure, why not?" he said with a sigh.
"Then it is decided," Draycos said firmly. "We must change course immediately."
"Not so fast, friend," Uncle Virge said. "I seem to remember you saying something about trading secrets; but so far Jack and I have been doing all the talking. It's your turn now."
The tail tip was making slow circles again. A sign of the dragon thinking? "Very well," Draycos said at last. "You know that our ships were attacked and destroyed. What you do not know is that we were only an advance team."
The skin at the back of Jack's neck prickled. "Advance team for what?" he asked carefully.
"For the K'da and Shontine peoples," Draycos said. "Refugees from our war with the Valahgua."
It took Jack three tries to get any words out. "Did anyone know about this?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "I mean, anyone official?"
"In any Orion Arm government, Internes or otherwise?" Uncle Virge added.
"We dealt with representatives of a people called the Chitac Nomads," Draycos said. "They assured us that world was not being used, and would be available for purchase."
"Uh-huh," Jack muttered under his breath. "Uncle Virge?"
"I don't know, lad," the other said hesitantly. "On official records, Iota Klestis belongs to the Triost Mining Group. Still, they don't seem to have done anything with it for thirty years or more. I'm afraid I'm not up on current land-use law, so I can't tell you when a claim like that lapses."
"Either way, I doubt the Chitac Nomads had the rights to sell it," Jack concluded. "Typical Chitac stunt."
Draycos had gone rigid, his green eyes shimmering. "Do you say we were cheated?" he demanded, his voice suddenly an octave lower.
"Easy, easy," Jack cautioned, holding out a calming hand as he pushed himself further back in his chair. He hadn't yet seen the dragon get really mad, and he didn't want to start in a cramped dayroom. "The Chitac aren't swindlers, really. They're just a bit... uh..."
"A bit casual concerning matters of law and regulation?" Uncle Virge offered.
"Yeah, that's it," Jack agreed. "They probably knew about the planet, knew it wasn't being developed, and figured no one wanted it anymore. I'm sure it was all in good faith."
"Their faith is of no value to us," Draycos growled.
"I'm sure something can be worked out," Uncle Virge assured him hastily. "Really. Iota Klestis is in human-claimed space,
and the Internes government has always had a soft spot for refugees. How many of you are coming?"
Draycos hesitated, then dipped his head slightly. "Four million K'da and fifteen million Shontine," he said.
Jack whistled softly. "That's a lot of refugees."
Draycos's eyes bored into him. "No," he said quietly. "Not when you consider that there were once a billion K'da and ten billion Shontine."
"Wait a minute," Uncle Virge said. "Are you saying they're all coming?"
"All that remain, yes," Draycos said. "Rather than let the Valahgua destroy us, we made the decision to flee from the lands we loved."
His mouth opened slightly, his sharp teeth glittering in the subdued light. "The world where my comrades died was to be our new home."
Jack swallowed hard. No wonder Draycos was scared. "Except that the Valahgua know they're coming."
Draycos's tail twitched. "Yes," he said. "And despite our caution, they have somehow learned our precise destination."
"And now that the advance team has been eliminated?" Uncle Virge asked.
"There is a meeting arranged before the fleet reaches their new home," Draycos said. "I do not know the location. If the advance team does not send an escort to meet them, the refugee leaders will know something is wrong."
An unpleasant chill ran up Jack's back. "But the Valahgua and their allies have three of your ships now," he said.
"Yes," Draycos said quietly, his eyes looking oddly haunted. "And from the ships, they surely have learned the location of the meeting. They need only mount the Death aboard one of them, and they will be among the refugee ships before the leaders realize their danger."
He lifted his head up again. "And almost within sight of the world where they had hoped to find peace, the K'da and Shontine races will be destroyed."
Jack took a deep breath. "How long before they get here?"
The dragon's tail twitched. "Six Earth months."
For a long minute the dayroom was silent, with only the distant rumbling of the drive in the background. "Okay, I'm convinced," Jack said at last. "As soon as we get to Vagran, we'll go to the Internes liaison office. Someone there can take you to Earth and StarForce headquarters."