Justice and Juniors (A Cat Among Dragons Book 2)

by Alma Boykin

  Lord Zhi-king listed, “Li-Zhrae, nine year turns; Lakshi, thirteen year-turns; and Shi-ki, three year-turns, are acceptable candidates. Shai-tahn, eleven year-turns, is not acceptable.”

  “I concur,” brown- and green-striped Teetasha said.

  Daestar made a complicated forefoot gesture. “Shai-tahn is lost already?”

  “Yes,” Blee, Shu, and an unfamiliar noble chorused. Blee explained, “he shows too much of his great-granduncle’s temper without the Great Shi-Dan’s discernment.” Rada shivered and Blee noticed the movement. “You wish to speak, Lord Defender?”

  “Only to say that such a difficulty led to Bis-Tahbi being removed from the succession.” Rada’s oath to Shi-dan prevented her from saying anything more. Shu and Daestar leaned around, giving the mammal looks of great interest and curiosity, but they held their peace.

  Several minutes of silence passed before Blee demanded, “What says the Pack?”

  Yellow-green Shu raised his tail. “Li-Zhrae is strong, steady, and shows an interest in learning as well as fighting. His dam is of Karn and Seedak lineages.”

  “Lakshi prefers reading to weapons work,” Kaeshiri reported. “There are also stories that he is sexually precocious, but not in ways that lead to heirs.” A rustle of disapproval filled the room. The Azdhagi usually turned a blind eye to homosexuality, but not if it interfered with succession and politics.

  Teetasha rumpled his tail. “Shai-ki is too young to evaluate properly, but he is healthy. His dam is Kirlin-lineage and Imperial.” Which meant she had a common-born ancestor of Kirlin lineage, Rada thought. In other words, there was an Imperial concubine in the family. Rada shrugged her tail. Paternity mattered to the Great Lords more than maternal ancestry. Paymaster’s purse, but how many of them have legitimized males in their own ancestry? All of them, I’d wager, Rada snorted to herself. But that also means close breeding—Imperial on both sides.

  “What says the Pack?” Blee repeated.

  As Rada watched, Kaeshiri the Younger (as she still thought of him) handed out strips of cloth in four patterns of black and white. The Great Lords all got to their feet and turned so that they faced out, away from eachother. “Ni Drako, take this,” and Kaeshiri handed her a box with a lid. “Is the box empty, Ni Drako?”

  Rada removed the lid, turned the box over and shook it. Nothing came out. She studied the plain wooden container but found nothing unusual about it. “It is empty, great my lords,” she called, raising her voice so all could hear.

  Blee’s voice commanded, “Ni Drako, take the box around and collect the choices.” Rada eased around the perimeter of the room. Each noble dropped one rolled-up strip of cloth into the box. Rada did not look at the contents of the box, holding the lid to block her view. It took several minutes for her to wiggle past all the nobles. There had been some successions in her absence, Rada noted. The newest nobles studied the Lord Defender in turn, noting the warrior’s weaponry and small stature.

  “Close the box,” Blee ordered. “Do you see the seal strips on the table?” Rada did, and she moistened the strips of straw-paper and wrapped them around and over the lid of the box, sealing it. She presented the result to Lord Blee, who gestured, “You are dismissed, Lord Defender. The decision will be presented to Shai-lak in one sixt.”

  Rada decided that she needed to be present for the occasion. A servant drove her back to the Dark Hart, and she programmed a course that brought her to the landing area at the Palace-Capitol on the day Lord Blee had named. Rada snuck into her quarters and changed clothes without calling any servants. Then, armed and dressed, she slid into the hidden passages that led from her sleeping quarters to the heart of the Palace. Lord Ni Drako emerged not far from the greater throne room just in time to see the Great Lords filing in, all in their lineage robes, and all armed. Rada joined the line, taking a place at the back of the room that happened to be close to another concealed passage entrance. This place has more holes than a sieve-making factory, Rada marveled for the hundredth time. Then more important matters took her attention.

  The door to the Imperial family quarters opened and the Great Lords all knelt as King-Emperor Shai-lak stormed into the room. They rose without giving pale-brown Shai-lak time to sit. “What is this?” the monarch demanded.

  Blee strode forward, dipped a ghost of a bow, and stated, “the Pack speaks.”

  “Oh, does it?” Rada heard uncertainty under Shai-lak’s bluster.

  Lord Karn rose onto his hind legs and carried the sealed vote box forward, setting it beside Blee. Blee rested his strong-side forefoot and tail on the top of the wooden container. “The Pack speaks. Who succeeds you, Imperial Majesty?”

  “We have yet to decide.” Behind him, Rada saw his guards exchange glances, then look towards her. She gestured first for silence and then pointed to the door with her tail. They filed out, making no sound.

  “The Pack asks, who succeeds you?”

  “We are considering Our sons and will decide in due course of time.”

  The Great Lords closed ranks, forming a solid block of muscle and will. “Who succeeds you?” they demanded as one.

  Shai-lak backed up one step, his tail tip quivering. “We, we will inform you shortly.”

  Rada could barely see Blee pushing the box forward. “The Pack has chosen,” he announced. He rose onto his hind legs with some help from Teetasha and Shu, broke the seals and emptied the contents of the box onto the floor. Utter and complete silence descended on the room. Rada’s fur rose at the emotional power of the group’s determination and will.

  Then the Pack rumbled, “Li Zhrae is Heir, Shai-ki second. The Pack speaks.”

  To Rada’s amazement, Shai-lak bowed! “The Pack has spoken. We name Li Zhrae as heir and Shai-ki as heir presumptive.”

  Blessed Bookkeeper, Rada swore, that’s scary. She decided that she never wanted to be the focus of the Azdhagi Pack’s attention. For an instant, the nobles truly became one in mind and intention, and Rada could well imagine what would have happened if Shai-lak had defied them.

  I will never understand the Azdhagi, Rada thought yet again as she snuck back to her quarters to change out of her uniform. Never. Like the sea, there are depths unfathomable on Drakon IV.

  5: Dreams for Sale

  Drakon IV – 798AGR (3698AD)

  Rada Ni Drako glowered at the advertising display on the side of the building, her back to the pedestrian traffic. Behind the mammal, a reptilian panhandler who’d been approaching caught sight of her reflection and stopped, deciding not to push the angry felinoid’s patience any further. He flashed a rude hind foot gesture at her back and moved on to find more generous tourists. Satisfied that he’d gotten the hint, Rada relaxed a touch before turning back to face the main flow of traffic. She hated waiting even though she knew that Zabet could talk or fight her way out of most trouble. She glanced at the pressure gauge on her portable oxygen supplementation unit and reminded herself yet again that she needed to refill things after she used them.

  As she waited, Rada skimmed the headlines scrolling down the projection wall on the other side of the transport tracks. She read just enough Marzi to do business here on Mopalo, and Rada noted two business and economics articles, a succession and inheritance announcement involving a position in the Speakers’ Council, two local gossip stories, and an advertisement. “Dreams for Sale – Dreams for all castes and parties.” She glanced away before the rest of the orange and blue text appeared. Where was Zabet? She suppressed the urge to check her chronometer. She was not using that much supplemental oxygen.

  The silvery-blue True-dragon appeared before Rada grew worried enough to look for her. «I’m back, Pet, with receipts and documentation. We can finish everything else once we get to Schuyler’s.» Zabet confirmed her own oxygen tank’s levels before pointing with her tail towards the closest transit station and Rada happily complied with the order.

  Once Rada set everything and locked the Dark Hart on course, she asked, “Boss, are you plan
ning on more contracts with Mopalinese companies? If so, I think we need to invest in better portable oxygen systems.”

  Zabet shook her head, making her whiskers swish back and forth. «No. This was completing Guess-Who’s contract as a favor to Schuyler. The market is too small on Mopalo, at least for the next few Mopalinese years, if I’m reading the public mood right. The mercantile caste doesn’t buy enough to justify getting the licenses.» Zabet stretched her forelegs as much as was possible in the cramped confines of the timeship. «Did you read that ad in the transit station?»

  “The one for the prostitute’s guild, the one for the purple stuff that I think was food, or the reminder not to get into the wrong caste’s car on the transit system?”

  «None of those. I mean the one about buying dreams for resale.»

  “No, but I did see one offering dreams for sale. Assuming that ‘dream’ in Marzi means the same thing it does in Trader.”

  Rada felt the symbiotic creature in the central processor nudging her mind and she closed her eyes, linking minds with the ship. A Rowfow timeship slid through a nearby time stream and Rada felt the disturbance rippling along her own path. She and the Dark Hart let the turbulence pass before beginning the arrival sequence. Rada hummed to herself, forming a tighter link with the creature. The ship’s harmony blended into Rada’s melody before fading away as the ‘Hart returned to four-dimensional space. Rada blinked and unfastened her safety harness, stretched, and toggled the door opener. Zabet trotted out of the tight confines and then stretched, extending her hind legs before swinging her tail forwards and backwards. Rada plugged the oxygen tanks into the life-support equipment to recharge. Once she had also connected the Dark Hart to an external oxygen supply, she followed Zabet.

  They walked to the auction house offices and Zabet entered her pass-code. The interior door slid open and the True-dragon and Wanderer took the first lift platform to Schuyler’s office level. Rada walked at Zabet’s right shoulder, alert but relaxed in her role as guard and pilot. “Have you learned how to pronounce Schuyler’s full name?” she inquired under her breath.

  Zabet’s round ears flipped forward and back. «No. I’m not sure anyone outside of that species can. That’s why we all call him Schuyler.» A second door slid open, granting access to the Inner Sanctum, as Rada called it.

  One of Schuyler’s orange appendages curled in a beckoning gesture from within the pale blue fluid of his life-support tank. Zabet waved her tail in reply as she walked to the data-entry center and activated her teleconverter, so that Schuyler could hear her. As the reptile submitted the forms, credit transfer confirmations, and delivery receipts, Rada watched Schuyler’s words appear on the screen attached to the end of his aquarium. The Piscene asked about the trip, confirmed that all the loose ends had been tied up (literally as well as metaphorically), expressed satisfaction with the transaction, and agreed that Mopalo’s limited business did not justify the costs of registering for a permanent license there. A tentacle waved towards Rada, and the screen asked, “Do you still work with the Dreamweavers?”

  Rada stepped into microphone range. “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Have you ever sold dreams to other buyers?” Schuyler’s smooth, elliptical body pivoted so that his visual receivers faced the mammal.

  “No, sir. I am not aware of other legal buyers.”

  Schuyler’s long bands of tentacles waved in what Rada took to be agreement. “I ask because this came over my network,” and an ad like that from Mopalo appeared on the screen, this time written in Trader. Schuyler turned back to Zabet and the two finished their business. As they did, Rada made note of the dream seller’s contact information.

  Rada and her employer decided not to linger once they’d concluded their business. Zabet wanted to investigate a new Mart she’d read about, so the pair went directly to the timeship parking area from Schuyler’s office. Rada confirmed the date, time, and location that Zabet intended to visit, and sang the Dark Hart into motion. They arrived at Bleeker’s World in near record time after catching a boost from the edge of a gravitational singularity. Rada and the creature in the Dark Hart’s core congratulated themselves for reading the time threads so well and Rada gave the orange animal some treat flakes before joining her boss outside of the ‘Hart.

  Zabet pointed towards the exit gate with her tail. «We go that way. It’s a kilometer or so from here. You can get something to eat while I study the Mart.»

  Rada followed, walking at Zabet’s shoulder. The mammal did not care for the odd, greasy feel to the air and the bitter scent in the wind. A few too many loose hydrocarbons floated through the atmosphere and Rada and Zabet could only stay for a few hours before needing to use air-filters and supplemental oxygen. Zabet spotted the Mart sign and poked her pilot with a firm tail tip. «Go find food, Pet, take-away for me. No salad. I’ll call you when I’m coming back.»

  “Yes, Boss,” Rada agreed, already scouting for edibles. She located two places with menus in Trader and poked her head into the closest one. She decided instantly that even her stomach would not tolerate something as fresh as the items on this menu. Only in desperation, or in full feline form, would she eat live bugs, no matter how many positive stripes the restaurant had earned.

  The second restaurant featured an assortment of cuisines and combinations, so Rada found a table and told the wait creature her basic limitations. The bird-like insect returned with a tailored menu and Rada ordered a minced meat plate, along with a creamy dessert and hot tea. As she put in her carryout request, she noted the sign for a public-use data stream and used her data-link to pull down more information about the dream buyers. She read the advertisements with great care, trying to find anything illegal. After her food arrived she put the data-link away, mulling over the information as she ate.

  «What did you get me?» Zabet peeked into the take-out container. «Hey, is this one of those meal-in-bread things?»

  “Yes, Boss. The server assured me that the bread caught all the sauce, so no drips on the floor.” Rada liked it when the ‘Hart smelled of roasted meat, but her fastidious employer tended to complain.

  They’d already decided to stop by Ziffcri so that Zabet could update her appraiser credentials. Once there, Rada tried to sort out what it was about the dream buyer’s ads that bothered her so much. She needed to move around and get the blood flowing again in her right leg. The old war wound had started bothering her again, so she paced in a local park, listening to something singing in a tree, as she thought about the business of dreams. Zabet found her there. «What’s bothering you?»

  Rada showed her the ads. After the True-Dragon had finished reading, Rada rumpled her tail in a shrug. “Something in the ad seems wrong, Boss. It sounds legitimate and not harmful for either the seller or the buyer, but,” her voice trailed off. “The part about not even recalling if you dreamed. That rubs my fur the wrong way.”

  «What about the Dreamweavers? How is this different?»

  Rada pointed to the bottom of the buyer’s ad. “The sisters watch and remember, but I still know that I dreamed and I usually recall the basic tone of the dream.”

  Zabet drummed her talons on the red tiles surrounding the park seat. «To take dreams without your recalling that you dreamed suggests that they block something, like when Himself put a shield into your mind so you could help treat that wild empath.» She considered the matter and shivered. «That’s more than a shield, Pet, that’s a tap. Do they exclude any species?»

  “From buying the dreams? No, but the really fine text says they will not purchase from True-Dragons, Milqulo, Traders, or a couple of other species with known telepathic traits.” Rada finger-combed the end of her tail as she thought about the limitation. “Several of those groups participated in forcing through the original ban on Dreamtapper and the other drugs in that class.”

  «Well, you know damn well why,» the silvery reptile reminded her business partner. «Even I remember what happened when that Milqulo got into Dreamtapper.»
>
  “Which is also why the Dreamweavers do not accept Milqulo as either dreamers or postulants.” Rada shuddered. She’d helped Himself treat a telepath who’d gotten into Dreamtapper and Rada still could not decide which was worse: the physical damage the drug did to the creature’s nervous system, the pain of having the patient shoving her thoughts and memories and hallucinations into the minds of those around her, or the voyeurism and slimy desire of those who’d gathered to watch and to read the victim’s mind. “Any therapeutic benefits that crap has do not balance the harm that comes from it.”

  Zabet sat on her haunches and raised her forefeet, mimicking a defensive human. «Hey, no argument here. So I take it you are not going to see if they’d buy your dreams?» Zabet shook her tail tip at Rada’s barrack-room Azdhag reply. «Please! Remember my delicate sensibilities.»

  Rada snorted and gave her partner a skeptical look before inquiring, “Any more places to go before we return to Drakon IV?”

  «No.» The reptile sneezed twice, flattening her ears and whiskers. «Blech. Get me out of this fug.»

  Two days later, more or less, Rada found a message from Master Thomas on her computer, requesting her to consult in his name. She made a note of the place and time before filing the request away. It would be several moons before Lord-Defender Ni Drako could leave Drakon IV.

  Six moons later, as Rada lived them, “Miss Ni Drako” arrived on Unkar. By local chronology, only three hours had passed since Master Thomas’s specified arrival point, and Rada patted the computer console to show her approval. She picked up her medical supply satchel and strode out of the Dark Hart to meet her contact. Rada looked around and spotted an individual roughly her own size covered in black armored plates and projecting an aura of great concern edged with a touch of fear. She approached the man and addressed him as ‘Master,’ followed by a series of whistled pitches. “I’m Rada Ni Drako. Master Thomas sent me.”

  He replied with a complicated trilling phrase before remembering to turn on his translator box. A smooth tenor voice spoke under another set of trills. “Welcome to Unkar. This way, please. We’ve isolated the patient but she is still causing problems.”