“Guess I’m not old enough,” Dodger said flatly.
The Elf’s mood was too serious for Sam’s feeble jocularity to shake it. Dodger had even abandoned the archaic speaking patterns that he favored. Sam had only noticed that once before when the Elf was seriously stressed or deep in technical details.
“Has something gone wrong?”
Dodger shook his head. “I want you to see a certain person.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“I think he can be of help.”
“Dodger, you’re not answering my questions.”
The Elf tilted his head back, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. He sighed. “I do not have any answers. Only questions.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You.”
Sam was already confused and now the Elf was making him more so. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“Your headaches are part of the issue.” Dodger leaned forward and stared directly into Sam’s eyes. “The pain and disorientation you feel when decking are not normal. Your implant is the best. The cyberware you’ve been using is flawless. Your thought processes are ordered and logical. In short, you have all the makings of a superb Matrix dancer, but for some reason, your icon limps. I suspect the answer lies within your psyche, but I am not qualified to deal with that. You need help with this problem, and I know someone who might be willing.
“You have set yourself a daunting task. Your enemies are ruthless, as you have already seen. To succeed, you must be able to rely without question on your own abilities. Therefore, you cannot afford to be less than perfect in mind.”
Did Dodger think he was crazy? Unhinged by his trials? “So you want me to see some friend of yours. He’s a doctor?”
“Among other things.”
“Another shadow.” Sam rubbed at the itchy stubble that was beginning to sprout on his chin. “You urge me to rely on myself while shoving me at strangers and suggesting that I put my head in their hands.”
“Enemies may come unbidden, but you must search for allies.”
“Platitudes, Dodger? What are you hiding behind them?”
Dodger said nothing for a moment, his Elven face still and suddenly alien. “I think you should see this person.”
Sam considered the Elf’s statement. Once more Dodger was avoiding a direct answer. He was surely hiding something. Whatever was behind Dodger’s mysterious manner, Sam sensed what he wanted to believe was a genuine concern. It might be mere wishful thinking, but, adrift in a sea of shadows, he needed such an anchor. Platitudes or not, it was true he needed allies. Could he afford to offend this one? “If I agree, what’s in it for your friend? And why are you, a shadowrunner, helping a corporate refuge? I’ve got a lot of questions, but I haven’t any credit.”
“We are not all as mercenary as Lady Tsung.” A slight hint of humor had crept in behind the stern mask, as though grimness were no longer necessary. Had Dodger divined that Sam had capitulated to his suggestion?
“But aren’t you part of her gang? I thought she was your boss.”
“‘Tis true that the fair lady and I have worked together, but I am an independent operator. I have my own interests.”
Of course he did. No one who lived the shadow life ever seemed to be pursuing anything but their own interests. “And what are those interests here?”
“You are most persistent, Sir Corp. ‘Tis a sterling quality...sometimes.”
“I thought you changed my name, Dodger. And comments on the virtues, or vice, if you prefer, of my persistence won’t distract me.”
“Very well then, Sir Twist.” Dodger said, with a slight bow of his head. “Shall we say then that this circumstance offers me a way to discharge an old obligation to another? The nature of that charge is not for you to know. Let my word suffice that it is harmless to you and yours, and shall not gain for me financial or other material gain.
“Your acceptance benefits others as well. The person whom I would have you meet will find your case of interest, and for him, that will likely be reward enough. You yourself gain. With this trip, you get out of the city and move onward to your goal. All this whilst your humble servant reduces an onerous burden.
“Everyone wins,” Dodger concluded, smiling.
“And the alternative?”
“Dost not bear thinking about.”
“What choice do I have?”
“Always your own choice, of course,”
The Elf’s grin was beguiling, mischievous but friendly. Sam shook his head in bemusement and laughed. Once more events were tugging him forward, but this time the direction was positive. He would be going forward of his own will, toward his own goals. That was more control over his life than he’d had in a long time.
Despite Dodger’s flip comment, Sam had thought about the alternatives. Otherwise, a choice would be no choice. Though it was true that his need was forcing him toward it, he was armoring himself with his trust in Dodger’s sincerity and good will. If Dodger’s friend could make it easier to deck, then it would be easier for Sam to track down the murderers and bring them to justice. New as he was to shadowrunning, Sam knew that one did not throw away an advantage, however slim. Dealing with Dodger’s friend was a gamble, but it was a gamble that he would accept of his own free will. He stood up.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Their destination proved to be a private compound at the western edge of the Portland city limits. From the gate, Sam could see that the estate’s enclosure extended out past the city’s barrier walls, expanding the owner’s turf beyond the city’s boundary. How far he could not tell; the mansion and groves of trees flanking it screened his view. Such a territory was in violation of the Tir Tairngire ordinances requiring all city properties to be completely within the series of concrete, wire, and electronic fences that separated the enclave city from the Tir proper. That the mansion’s grounds existed in such blatant disregard of those laws was an indication of the owner’s power in the Tir.
In the far distance beyond the compound, Sam could see a few tall spires of Elven design. Those would be the palatial residences of the ruling powers of the Tir. He knew that past those rambling estates and their woods lay Royal Hill, the mound said to be magically created, on which sat the Tir Tairngire capitol, a magnificent complex that was the working office and home of the High Prince. The estates surrounding Royal Hill were the property of the other princes and chosen councilors. It was a very exclusive neighborhood, and Dodger’s friend, with his blatantly illegal property, was likely a resident of high standing.
“You didn’t tell me that you had these kinds of connections, Dodger.”
“I would prefer to term it an acquaintance rather than a connection, Sir Twist.”
“Whatever. If you had told me, I would have been less reluctant to come. At least I could have dressed better.”
“‘Tis unlikely that we will be treated as formal guests.” Dodger led the way to the gatehouse. He pulled up short as a figure stepped from the doorway.
“What makes you think that you’ll be any kind of guest, Alley Runner?”
The speaker was tall, even for an Elf. His close-cropped raven hair and eyebrows contrasted sharply with his pale skin and eyes of glacial blue. His business suit and accessories were all of solid, middle-manager quality, and though well-tailored, seemed out of place on him. There was something about the Elf that was at once hard-bitten and romantic. Sam pictured him in full armor, its shine scuffed and dented with hard use. Maybe it was the set of his jaw, the impassive expression, or the warily narrowed eyes.
“Avaunt, Estios. We’ve no business with you.”
“If you want to see the Professor, you do.”
Dodger looked annoyed and seemed about to launch a retort. Then he shrugged in acceptance of something inevitable. He unholstered his pistol and handed it butt-first to Estios.
Estios smiled coldly as he received the weapon. He turned and re-enter
ed the gatehouse, leaving Sam and Dodger to follow. Once inside, he led them past the reception counter without stopping. The crisply uniformed Knight Errant security staffer never said a word as the three men paced across his domain and through an ornate arch into a back room.
The inner chamber was sparsely furnished and dimly lit. Behind a clear panel that separated the room into two halves, an Ork in a white lab coat sat at a console. Her features were lit with the gray glow of the screens she monitored, making her expression grimmer and more inhuman than it might otherwise appear. Behind her stood a Dwarf. He was broader than she, but barely topped her in height even though she was seated. He wore an elaborate amulet on a heavy chain around his neck and the lapels of his jacket were studded with arcane symbols. The Dwarf mage leaned against the wall. Like Sato’s mage, he seemed to be spending his duty time dozing. Sam wondered what made magicians so indispensable that they could sleep on company time and get away with it.
In one corner of their side of the partition lay a large white hound. It opened its eyes lazily when they entered the room but otherwise remained motionless. Sam realized with a start that it was no ordinary dog. Its faintly reflecting eyes revealed it as a paranimal and its scent was familiar, though he had only encountered one once. The beast was a Barghest like the one that had attacked Tsung. As soon as he realized it was unchained, Sam retreated to the archway, fearing an attack. To his embarrassment, neither Estios nor Dodger showed any reaction to the Barghest. All they did was turn to look at him as though he were an idiot. Sam straightened out of the defensive crouch he had reflexively assumed and forced a smile. So, maybe it wasn’t dangerous. How was he supposed to know? It would probably still try to tear out his throat if Estios told it to.
Estios placed Dodger’s gun on a table and held out his hand. Dodger removed another, much smaller, gun from his boot and handed it over. He slipped the chain that he wore for a belt from around his waist and took a flat metal case from one pocket, passing both to the dark-haired Elf. Estios tapped him on the right forearm.
“It is integral.”
“You’ll wear a disabler.” It was not a question.
“I have no hostile intent. My word has always been good enough for the Professor. Is it less with you?”
“There are other considerations today.”
“Look,” Sam interrupted, beginning to get annoyed at Dodger’s treatment, “we’re not here to cause trouble. I was told that our visit might be of some interest to your Professor. If that’s too inconvenient for you, tough. We don’t need your storm trooper act. We can leave.”
Estios seemed to see Sam for the first time. “A real Griffin. Will you vouch for Dodger’s good behavior?”
“Sure.”
“On your life?”
Sam’s answer was a little slower in coming, but he surprised himself with the conviction in his voice. “Yes.”
“Sir Twist is here at my insistence, Estios. He need not take your oaths.”
“He already has, Alley Runner.”
“I shall wear your disabler.”
“No, you won’t,” Sam insisted. “Those things can scramble circuits permanently. It’s too big a risk, Dodger, and I won’t let you take it just to have a chat about my headaches.”
“Do you understand what you’re doing?” Dodger asked softly.
“Sure,” Sam lied.
The look in Dodger’s eyes told Sam that the Elf might not really believe him, but was accepting his word. Dodger flashed him a smile that held thanks and an unexpected comradeship. “Good enough for you, Estios?”
“It’ll do,” he said with a shrug. He pointed to the chromium steel fitting on Sam’s temple. “What kind of headware do you have?” His voice indicated that he expected Sam to give a prompt, complete, and accurate answer.
“A datajack.”
Estios turned his head to the technician, who nodded. Her voice rasped through the speaker. “Consistent with the scans.”
“Aren’t you going to search me for weapons?”
Estios‘s face held just a hint of contempt. “No need. You’ve been scanned quite thoroughly. Let’s go.”
Estios led them through a door and down a corridor. He opened another door and they emerged outside. A rank of small electric carts stood arrayed against the wall. Estios waved at the first one and walked around it to climb into the driver’s seat. He barely gave them time to take a seat before engaging the drive. Gravel spewed as he turned the cart onto the path leading to the mansion.
As they approached, Sam could see that it was more of a manor house than a mansion. Stone walls complete with gargoyles faced the world to protect the interior from intruders. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Such architecture seemed only appropriate here in Tir Tairngire.
Estios pulled the cart to a stop at the foot of the steps leading to the main entrance. Without a word, he got out of the vehicle and walked up the steps. When they joined him at the top, he opened the door and ushered them into a lobby of tiled floors and half-paneled walls. Estios led them through opulent rooms furnished with antiques and fine artworks, coming finally to a large room lined with bookshelves. A blackened fireplace stood in the center of one wall, framed by ornate woodcarvings. Another whole wall consisted of windows quaintly divided into small panels. Sam suspected that they were real glass. The view of shrubbery through the windows indicated that the three of them had passed through the house to the back.
“Wait here,” Estios ordered as he opened a door incorporated into the window structure. As soon as he had exited and disappeared around the hedge, Sam stepped up to the windows. He was curious to see if he could gauge how far the estate extended beyond the city limits.
All thoughts of geographical extent vanished the moment he saw the Dragon. The beast sat on its haunches, forelimbs holding its chest above the manicured lawn. Sam knew it at once for a Western Dragon, for its huge wings were unmistakable even though folded against its flank. The great head was majestically horned and longer than any of the people gathered about it. Its scales glittered gold in the sunshine.
The crowd of Humans and Metahumans arrayed around the Dragon was divided into three parties. All the normal Humans, a pair of Dwarfs, and a large, furred humanoid stood to the beast’s right, spread out between it and a quad-engined VTOL whose insignia appeared to be a portrait of the Dragon’s own silhouette. The rest, mostly Elves, stood in a ragged, divided semicircle in front of the Dragon. One Elven contingent was aligned behind a red-headed Elf, the other behind a blond. From the blond’s gestures, he was clearly making a passionate address to the Dragon. The beast seemed unperturbed.
Estios approached the red-head’s group and whispered in the leader’s ear. The Elf cast a quick glance at the house before nodding and saying something. Estios gave a curt acknowledgement and walked to the back of the clump.
Our host, the mysterious Professor Laverty, Sam concluded. The Elf was lanky, not as tall as Estios, but still overtopping Dodger. The curly red hair and fair skin were easily visible, but distance masked the color of his eyes. From the Elf’s calm demeanor, Sam expected that they would be discerning, imperturbable eyes. Whatever their color, it would be difficult to conceal anything from those eyes. Sam hoped that Dodger was right in bringing him here.
His gaze drifted across the other group of Elves, stopping suddenly on one familiar face. After a moment of shock, he checked the others and recognized a second face. Fear jolted him and for a moment he was running through the forest, hopeless and lost. He felt hunted again.
“We can’t go out there.” The words were barely audible; his throat was too dry.
“Nervous about meeting the quality? Or is it the Dragon?”
“No, that’s not it. That red-headed Elf with the cape is the guy who tried to flash-fry me in the forest. The small dark one next to him is the tracker.”
“What?” Dodger moved to his side and stared at the figures Sam indicated. “Frag it! That redhead is Rory Donally and the
other is Bran Glendower. They’re two of Ehran’s paladins. That whole squad was probably his crew. You’re right. We can’t go out there.”
“But I thought that we got hit by the border patrol.”
“They ride the border sometimes. When they think something’s in it for them or their master.”
“Ehran, you mean?”
Dodger nodded in affirmation as he stared out the window.
“Ehran? As in Ehran the Scribe?”
“You know of another?” he replied abstractedly.
“I read his Mankind Ascendant. It didn’t make much sense.”
Dodger turned and gave him a wry grin. “That’s the right Ehran. He is the blond Elf who looks so fond of his own argument.”
“This doesn’t make sense, either. I thought he was some kind of scientific populist writer. What’s he doing here?”
“From the looks of that conference, it must be council business.”
“Huh?”
“Sir Twist, your astute commentary ill becomes you. I realize that not all of Ehran’s activities are common knowledge, but...surely, given where you are and what you see, you must have realized that, like our host, he is a member of the ruling council of Tir Tairngire.”
Sam hadn’t made any such connection. Seeing the house and grounds, he had surmised that this Professor Laverty had some influence. But a member of the council! That was beyond reasonable expectations. How did Dodger come to have connections with such a person? And why did he think that Sam might be of interest to this Professor? Sam’s stomach lurched as it had when the elevator cable in his Mitsubishi Flutterer had snapped. There had been a yawning chasm below him and he had been nearly out of control. He hadn’t panicked then. Well, not too much anyway, and had managed to fight the craft to a relatively safe landing. He’d find a way out of this disaster, too.
While Sam fought his panic, the meeting outside drew to a close. The Dragon launched itself into the air, circling while its attendants boarded their craft. The aircraft rose to join the Dragon and both flew away to the north. The two groups of Elves merged and headed for the house. Upon reaching the patio, Laverty and Ehran split from their followers and headed for the salon.
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