The Dragon Circle

by Irene Radford

  “This news comes right on top of finding a delete in the marriage records of Meditcue II. That delete has my dad’s computer telltales all over it. I’m digging further. Too bad neither of us has a Klip. We could track Dad’s activities a lot easier then. But, of course, they are illegal.”

  Martin gulped. A marriage record deleted by Melinda’s private Sam Eyeam. Melinda was up to something. The timing was too coincidental. She didn’t want key information to come up at the custody hearing.

  If Melinda and Bruce’s father had negotiated a sensitive contract, perhaps the man had come to Aurora for a private meeting. Data waves could be intercepted no matter how much security Melinda paid to put on them. Financial transactions tended to be more secure than private correspondence, but even then the data had to cross open space at many times the speed of light. Dedicated hackers could find even those messages.

  He accessed his mother’s appointment book for the previous month. Many meetings. Many contracts. Nothing resembling Bruce Geralds, Sr.

  What about the AM before that?

  Martin had to go through three more AMs and nearly a thousand entries to find what he was looking for. A cryptic remark, “Freelance. Midnight. Altered beacon,” followed by an estimated expense account that allowed considerable travel was his only clue.

  “Travel. He had to enter and leave Aurora space.” Martin sent his snoopers over to the port authority. Sure enough, at 0600 hours the next morning, a private, one-man transport left the port. It carried Melinda’s personal ID on the logbook.

  “But Melinda was home that day. I remember because she introduced the new math tutor to me personally.”

  “Master Martin, I believe you are supposed to be working on wave differential equations at this moment, not playing with your friends.” The image of the hated math tutor appeared in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. A twenty-something man with a sallow complexion and thin hair, who tried to look and destroy it before the IMPs landed. Five and one half hours from now. Max.

  “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 13

  THE AIR AT the head of Rover shimmered. Dalleena gulped. She dug in her heels. The caked dirt of the hillside crumbled under her feet. She continued her downward slide toward the dragons—the white one she could see and the red-tipped one that was almost visible in the harsh noontime glare.

  “Now what?” Konner grunted and moved forward at a faster pace. He barely left a footprint in the ground at the speed of his passing.

  “The Stargod does not fear the dragons. They are his messengers and allies,” she whispered to herself.

  “If he has no fear, then neither should I.” The thought did not reassure her. If the dragon wished, it could blast her with fire and eat her in one gulp.

  Last night it had ignored her. Today it might be hungry.

  The beast bent its head toward Konner. Steam or smoke rose in small puffs from its nostrils. Dalleena guessed it spoke to Stargod Konner in some mysterious way.

  She struggled to remain upright, wrapping the shreds of her courage around her.

  If she had nothing else, she had her dignity. If she died in the next moment, she would not quail before the Stargod. She was Tracker and had fulfilled her duty.

  “I know,” Konner said to the dragon. “Dalleena spotted them before I did.”

  So they discussed the invaders. Dalleena took her next step with a little more firmness than the last. She had served the god better than his dragon messenger did.

  Then the beast turned one of its multicolored eyes upon her. Red glinted on the eyelid, echoing the color outlining its horns and wing veins.

  Her stomach tied itself into a knot.

  The red spiraled inward, drawing her attention, her consciousness, her soul. . . .

  “Irythros, release her!” Stargod Konner shouted and slapped the muzzle of the creature.

  The sound of his voice seemed to sever a physical tie between Dalleena and the dragon. She shook her head to clear it.

  (Apologies. I do not wish to offend.) The dragon’s eyes dimmed and it ducked its muzzle.

  Dalleena shook her head again. “Did I truly hear him speak?” For half a heartbeat she shared a sense of deep shame with the beast. How could that be?

  “Probably,” Konner replied. He rubbed the knuckles of his left hand with his right palm.

  “Apology accepted.” She resisted a near compulsion to move closer and touch the place where Konner’s fist had connected with its muzzle, just below the right eye. Hard to tell if the skin beneath the crystal fur bruised or not.

  “Dalleena is under my protection, Irythros,” Konner said. “Keep your hypnotic powers to yourself.”

  Dalleena tasted the strange new word. Hypnotic. It meant nothing to her.

  (Dragon dreams reveal a true nature,) the dragon replied in a defensive tone.

  “Unnecessary.” Konner continued to stare at the huge creature with authority. “If you want to delve into the secrets of a human, go find the merchant who calls himself Sam Eyeam. He carries a second beacon that must be destroyed.”

  A niggle of pride ran down Dalleena’s spine. This handsome man, this god, defended her before the most awesome being in her world.

  ”The news of the intruders is momentous, Irythros.

  I appreciate you bringing the news yourself. I have need of a favor, if you are willing.” Finally Konner stroked the place on the dragon’s muzzle that had begun to darken. The dragon leaned into the touch as it would a healer’s caress.

  (Name your favor,) the dragon nearly cooed.

  Dalleena had to stifle a grin. This monster behaved as any steed, or dog, or cat, given adoring attention by its master.

  “I have to drop this beacon into the volcano to destroy it. I would like to leave the shuttle hidden in the crater. The magnetic forces of the mountain will mask its presence from the intruders. Will you carry Dalleena and me back to the village from there?”

  (We cannot. The transition place of Hanassa is sacred. We may not go there.)

  The mighty wings of the dragon unfurled. He raised and dropped them once. Dust swirled into Dalleena’s face. She threw up her arm to protect her eyes. With her other hand she groped for Konner. His hand entwined with hers.

  The dust increased. The roar of the wind from pulsing dragon wings drowned out all other sound. All other thought.

  Wind buffeted her, forcing her back and back again. She clung to Konner. She bumped against the solid hide of the white dragon Rover. And still the wind pressed against her, stole the breath from her, tried to crush her chest.

  And then Konner was between her and the wind, sheltering her with his body. She risked looking up at him. His eyes darkened. Barely a breath separated their lips. A strange stillness washed through her, replacing the terrible pressure of the wind.

  Then the wind died. The agitated dirt settled on her clothing, in her hair, and on her face.

  “He left,” she said.

  “In a huff,” Konner replied, averting his gaze from her mouth. He heaved himself back, away from the shuttle and close proximity to her.

  “Now what do we do?”

  “We destroy the beacon.”

  “How? Do we return to the village of the Stargods?”

  “I will leave you there before I go to the volcano.”

  “How will you return?”

  “I must walk for many days, or trust my luck to the dragongate.”

  Dalleena crossed herself, swallowed her fears, and looked him straight in the eye. “So be it. I go with you.”

  “Captain?” Ensign Englebert sounded hesitant.

  Kat stole a moment of attention from the helm to watch the communications officer’s face. He looked puzzled.

  “Watch it!” Kohler warned her quietly.

  Kat jerked her attention back to her own screens and interfaces. She barely veered to port fast enough to avoid scraping Jupiter on a mid-sized boulder in a crowded asteroid belt.

  At least Ms. Baines ha
d retreated to the comfort of her cabin. Kat didn’t have to worry about the woman watching and criticizing every move she made. Nor did she have to smell the cloying perfume.

  “This space junk looks tricky,” Kohler continued. “Computer can’t find a pattern to the movement. We’re going to have to wing it.”

  “Captain, can we get weapons on some of these rocks?” Kat asked.

  Commander Leonard gestured to a pair of SBs to handle the chore. In three quick blasts, Kat had a clear path before her.

  “Captain?” Englebert said again.

  “Yes, Ensign.” Commander Leonard did not look up from her screens as she answered.

  “Sir, I’m getting an echo from the beacon. It’s moving away from the primary.”

  “What?” Kat and Commander Leonard exclaimed at the same time. Kat dared not swing her chair around. A rock the size of a moonlet loomed before her. It tumbled fast enough to generate a gravity field.

  “It’s almost as if there are two beacons, sir,” Englebert said.

  “Impossible. Fortesque Industries swore they only built one at that frequency,” Commander Leonard protested.

  “I read the memo, sir. You can look for yourself. Something strange is going on down on that planet.”

  “If I may, Captain,” Kat said, never taking her eyes or her hands off her screens. “The second beacon could be why we could not lock onto the signal earlier. We were getting echoes of both off the atmosphere.”

  ”True, Lieutenant. Investigate further, Ensign Englebert. I want to know more about this.

  “Uh, Captain . . .”

  Leonard shot Englebert an impatient glance.

  “Captain, sensors detecting a fireball on the big continent. It’s burning hot enough to fry cerama/ metal.”

  Kat gulped. What were the O’Haras up to?

  “Status of the beacons, Ensign?” the ship’s captain demanded.

  “Both still beeping.”

  “Estimated time to orbit, Lieutenant?”

  Kohler answered for Kat. “Five hours, twenty-seven minutes, sir.”

  “Providing someone doesn’t start throwing these rocks directly at us,” Kat muttered. Another blast from the pulse cannons sent a big one lurking behind the moonlet spinning out of their path. Chips from it splattered a sensor on the rim directly in front of Kat. She cursed.

  A tech scrambled to get her a clear view again.

  Kat veered sharply to starboard. Everyone on the bridge reached for safety harnesses. “If only I had a joystick,” Kat breathed, “I could jockey around this planetary debris with no problems at all.”

  “Joysticks are not standard military equipment,” Commander Leonard reminded her. “This is a Military Police Cruiser, not a cybernetic fighter.”

  “I know, Captain. Just wishing out loud.”

  “Are you sure you can get us through this safely, Lieutenant?” Leonard asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’m rated ace on everything in the fleet. Just keep those cannons working on the little stuff and I’ll get us around the big ones.”

  Kat let her eyes lose focus a moment while she listened to the crystal drive. She “felt” nearly every electron pulse shooting from the drivers to the directionals. Three arrays, all working off one king stone. She isolated the forward array in her consciousness. Suddenly the scene outside jumped into her awareness clearer than any computer display. She saw in her mind the position of every asteroid, moonlet, and chip. She understood the gravitational pulls from sun and planets upon each. She became a part of the web of transactional gravitons.

  Her fingers flew over the computer interfaces on her screen guiding the ship through the obstacle course.

  “You’re smiling?” Josh Kohler broke into her trance.

  “Just meditating on what I’ll do with my part of the reward from capturing the O’Hara brothers.”

  “Just keep your mind on steering this boat,” Josh grunted.

  Kat’s smile grew broader. “I am, Josh. I am.”

  “The O’Haras may be the most wanted men in the Empire, but they aren’t worth the lives of three hundred people and the loss of my ship, Lieutenant,” Commander Leonard said. “Slow and easy. If you don’t feel we can get through here safely . . .”

  “I’ve waited too long for this moment to give up now, sir.” Kat firmed her chin and narrowed her eyes. Nothing would keep her from finally confronting the O’Haras and bringing them to justice. Nothing.

  I watch as Sam Eyeam meets another; one I should trust, but he smells wrong. They fight. The device that Stargod Konner seeks drops to the ground. It speaks to the stars in a voice we believed to come from Hanassa. Now we know that the man Hanassa has become wishes to misuse it.

  The fight between Sam Eyeam and the one I cannot trust grows desperate. One man rises, grabs the device, and disappears into the dragongate. Who is left? I cannot tell from my watching distance. Dust obscures color. Injury disguises posture.

  Ah, I see now that Sam Eyeam rushes to take refuge in a creature similar to Stargod Konner’s Rover. This creature is bigger than Rover. I loose a little flame to encourage Sam Eyeam to emerge and speak to me.

  He remains secreted. A little more flame. Too much? The creature catches fire.

  The man jumps free and flees.

  The heat from the fire singes my wing tip. I retreat to the clouds. Sam Eyeam and his device disappear from my senses.

  Kim checked the village center. Two older women he knew only a little stoked the fire and hefted the stewpot onto the iron crane Konner had forged. Both women looked too frail for the heavy work. One had lost an eye, the other the use of her left arm. Both were past childbearing. No other village wanted them.

  “Stargod Kim,” the one-eyed beldame hailed him.

  He smiled at them and took a moment from his mission to lift the heavy bronze cauldron onto the hook and swing it over the low fire. Enough distance separated the bottom of the pot from the flames to keep the metal from melting. An iron cauldron was near the top of the list of improvements for the village, as soon as Konner and his team of blacksmiths found time to forge one.

  The old women returned his smiles with profuse thanks and bows and vows of eternal gratitude.

  He scuttled into his cabin before they could enlist his help with something else. Everyone else who could work even a little was in the fields finishing off the harvest. A third grandmother watched the bevy of children too young to help. Five year olds helped gather the sheaves into stooks.

  The perfect time for him to work in privacy without Hestiia hovering over him or Pryth clucking at him.

  He did not wait for his eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. He found the basket of Tambootie by smell. As his pupils opened and he detected outlines and shapes within the shadows, he thought that particular basket glowed with an unusual aura. A corona of green mottled with pink, just like the new leaves, shone around the entire basket. He picked out two leaves, both mature, having lost all traces of pink. Oil still gleamed slickly on the fat foliage, though he’d picked these leaves nearly a week ago.

  Checking once more that no one observed him, Kim licked the oils. The now-familiar taste sparkled inside his mouth. He felt lighter, freer, stronger, and more alert. The dimness of the cabin receded. Every object stood out in clear detail, as if he stood in bright sunshine. Now he could truly work magic on Taneeo’s injuries, maybe speed the bone healing and swelling. Perhaps even restore the man’s full eyesight.

  And delve into his mind deeply enough to see if Hanassa was still there or had left booby traps for the Stargods.

  He stuffed the leaves into his pocket and ducked out of the cabin. The old ladies smiled and waved at him once more. He ignored their invitation to talk to them and perhaps get snared into helping with more heavy chores. He had to act before the Tambootie wore off.

  At the entrance to Taneeo’s hut, Kim barely took time to rattle the strings of beads before entering. He heard the rustle of someone moving quickly. To his Tambootie-enhanced
ears it sounded like a wind racing across the tops of the trees.

  “S’murghit!” Taneeo cursed.

  At least Kim thought it was Taneeo who invoked the deposed winged demon. Who else would inhabit this crude circular hut?

  But the voice was deeper, raspier, harsher than the young priest’s.

  Then Kim’s eyes registered the shape of Taneeo’s sparse belongings and the man himself by the light of the auras.

  Taneeo seemed to be two men, one lying atop the other, each with his own separate aura, touching but not blending.

  Kim blinked. The outermost halo of red and black faded to Taneeo’s more usual green and blue spiked with orange pain.

  What had he seen?

  For a moment Hanassa’s coarse features had masked Taneeo’s.

  Kim reached for the Tambootie in his pocket. Taneeo reached a hand to stay his movement. “Nay, friend. You need no more of the weed. I have rejected my former master once and for all.”

  “I wished to try more healing on your leg,” Kim said. His mouth went dry. A dozen questions choked him.

  “Do not bother, my friend and Stargod. Your magic cannot touch my wounds.”

  “How do you know that?” Kim knelt beside the pallet. The hut smelled of sweat and fear and fever. He held his breath.

  Taneeo’s aura spiked again with red and black, then calmed to its normal colors.

  “Because Pryth has filled your head with false tales of your powers. You can do nothing for me. You only think you can because you listen to the ancient harridan. Go. Leave me in peace to meditate. I will heal in my own good time.” Laboriously, he rolled to his side with his back to Kim. As clear a dismissal as possible.

  Kim rose to his feet, swayed a moment. The Tambootie seemed to burn its way through his pocket, begging him to chew just a little. Already his vision dimmed back to normal limits and his ears felt blocked with the lessening of sounds reaching him.

  “I have to try, Taneeo.”

  “No.”

  “We will never know if my magic is valid or not until I try. I have to know.”

  Had he seen Hanassa trying to invade Taneeo’s body again? Or had it been a hallucination born of the Tambootie?