Never Deal with a Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  Dodger found himself able to move again, but he feared that his hostess’s return would change that. In a way he couldn’t describe, he felt her presence still. He wanted to run, jack out while he could, but he had seen the Commuter take off and leave Sally and Ghost’s people behind. They needed help. He had to get out of here if he was going to do anything constructive.

  He turned to find Jenny disappearing into one of the panels, which went dark before he could make sense out of the image it had been presenting. So that was the way out. Reasoning that the image might relate to Matrix positioning, he stepped up to the block that held nine pictures of the deceased decker. He was company property and his equipment would be linked for fast access. It would be a good place to start. Dodger walked forward and found himself in the subprocessor controlling security for Pad 23.

  He couldn’t have asked for a better location.

  Accessing the camera records, he clipped a copy of the battle and tagged it onto the go-code he was supposed to send when the team had gotten Hutten. He slipped it down the link to the broadcast monitor and sent it out on priority transmit. Sam would at least know what had happened. Maybe he could figure it out.

  A strong believer in back-ups whenever possible, Dodger readied his online storage to accept a dump of the trideo record. When he tried the access again, he got an error message. A quick check showed him that the file had been deleted since he had last accessed it. Wary, he fled the node.

  It was a short hop into the pad’s computer system. He activated the service lift and tapped a deck monitor to view the results of his handiwork. Pressed by the advancing Red Samurai, Sally was quick to take the anonymous offer of an escape route. She and the Indians rabbited onto the descending segment of the platform. They leaped off at the first sublevel, and Dodger sent the lift back up and locked it to seal off direct pursuit.

  “Sally, are you all right?” he asked over the maintenance call system.

  “Dodger! Where the hell have you been?”

  “No time. Take the shaft down to Pad 19. Code 7723 opens the lock. I’ll arrange something.”

  He could hear her calling him until he cut the link, but he had to keep moving. He locked all access doors to the sublevel before heading out to the subprocessor for Pad 19’s control center. A deft touch slipped in an authorization for a corporate helicopter and scrambled a pilot to fly it. He tagged the request with a Code Orange designation to keep the rigger’s mouth shut as long as he thought it was a legitimate company undercover operation. The note he left about what he’d done would trigger when Sally used the code he’d given her. She’d need to know what to expect before leaving the maintenance shaft for the pad. He realized that he should have added an authorization for helicopter armament, and was about to do so when the walls of the node began to go translucent. He fled again.

  He skipped down to a slave node that ran the climate control for an office suite on the mall level, hoping the low security would leave him less visible. He wanted to go back and make sure that Sally and the boys got out all right, but he was afraid to return anywhere he had been. He just didn’t have enough jazz to deal with this Ghost in the Machine. He knew he had run as far as he could when the walls started to silver. While he still could, he jacked out.

  “Good luck, Sally.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Sam looked out the window of the helicopter, not really seeing the fences and buildings that surrounded him. Ghost’s departure signal had come almost half an hour ago. By now he would have led his tribesmen in through the perimeter of the United Oil dockyard. Sam had been surprised at how many volunteered after Ghost told them he would do it alone. But it hadn’t been too many for Enterich to supply with arms. Sam didn’t know how he would have stopped any of the warriors from accompanying Ghost, but he’d have tried if armor and weapons hadn’t been available. Even well-equipped, the risks were great.

  Things were still quiet, which he assumed to mean that all was well. A lot more bodies were going in than when he and Ghost had made their run into the facility, but this crowd was not going to try to get inside any buildings. They should be safe enough. With Dodger running cover on the arcology part of the operation, they were relying on a decker that Enterich supplied to override the perimeter alarms. She must have been good enough; the compound where the copter sat was close enough that Sam would have heard any gunfire or alarms. The only thing left to do was wait for the signal that Sally and Jaq had succeeded in lifting Hutten from the arcology. And worry.

  It wasn’t the best plan, but he had been heartened when Ghost’s lieutenant and four buddies had decided to do the snatch. Sam was relieved that Sally would have some back-up other than Jaq’s mercs. Jason’s crew wouldn’t have been Sam’s choice, but Sam wasn’t choosing. Any bodies were better than trusting totally to the good will of Lofwyr’s agent.

  For the fourth time in the last half hour, he checked the case on the seat next to him to see that its circuits were in working order. Dodger was to tight-beamcast a trideo record of their snatch for Sam to display when he confronted the Dragon. It would be his proof that Hutten was hidden safely away, a lever for dealing with Haesslich. Everyone was sure Haesslich would be willing to negotiate to get his precious doppelganger back safely, but no one believed the Dragon would accept Sam’s terms. Sam wasn’t so sure himself, but he saw no other course. He must try to resolve this in a way that would leave his conscience clear. If Haesslich wouldn’t listen, then there was always Ghost’s way.

  The unit beeped and the telltale indicated that it had received Dodger’s coded signal. That was it. The snatch had been made. Sam secured the receiver as soon as the transmission was complete.

  “Indramin,” he said aloud, knowing that the rigger was listening. The rigger wasn’t aboard, because Sam didn’t want anyone else to share the risk of facing the Dragon. Indramin would be flying the helicopter by remote rig. “Time to go.”

  The craft’s engines coughed to life and the rotors began to whirl up to speed. With a surge, the ship left the ground and Sam was on his way to confront Haesslich.

  The tail Hart had put on Crenshaw had led her to Greerson, who was surprisingly easily to convince that she, too, was working with Crenshaw. The Dwarf, in turn, led her to Verner’s rendezvous point, where they’d watched as Verner split his team into two groups. From the talk overheard via Greerson’s long-range pickup, she knew that one of the team was headed for the arcology to snatch Hutten. The fools would walk straight into Crenshaw’s trap, but maybe they’d save Hart the headache of taking out the Crenshaw bitch.

  She was glad she’d decided to pass on trying to invade the arcology. The chances of success seemed far too low. The chances for a Matrix penetration weren’t much better. But if Jenny couldn’t slip into the arcology’s Matrix and get a copy of the A1 data from the doppelganger, Haesslich’s plan would come to naught. After tonight’s raid, the Hutten thing would be locked up tight, assuming it survived. Then Haesslich would get nothing. She didn’t like to think how the worm would take that disappointment.

  Hart had been intrigued when Verner split off from Ghost Maker and his crew. Sensing that Verner was running a complicated plan, she argued Greerson out of smoking Verner as soon as he was alone. The Dwarf agreed to wait till they could find out what he was up to, confident he could take Verner whenever he wanted. Following Verner, they had spent almost an hour watching him sit in the darkened helicopter. When the sound of the craft’s engine drifted on the breeze, Hart was confused. No one had come to join Verner and now he was leaving. Whatever his plan, it must now be in motion. Without air transportation, she and the Dwarf wouldn’t be able to follow him. So if they were going to deal with him, it had to be right now. Hart wondered if she would ever know what he was up to.

  “He’s airborne,” Greerson said, shoving the binocular goggles up onto his forehead.

  Hart stared into the night, searching for the source of the rotors’ sound. She finally caught the moving shadow t
hat was the copter. It was running without lights, moving in their general direction.

  “You know, Elf lady, I thought for a while there that you had something. Drek, you might still, but even your long legs can’t pace a helo. Old A.C. is gonna have a metacow when neither you or Verner shows up for her party, but at least I’ll get the bounty on his head.” Greerson stripped off the goggles and shook out his hair, then reached for the missile launcher he had prepared as soon as they had taken station. Hart forestalled the move with a touch on the Dwarf’s arm.

  “We’ve been on his tail longer. Squatter’s rights.”

  “Whatever,” the Dwarf shrugged. “Long as the suitboy don’t see daylight, I get paid.”

  Hart activated her transceiver. “Tessien. He’s in a dark helo moving south along the waterfront toward us. He’s all yours.”

  The flight was short, barely a hedge hop, but that suited Sam fine. Less time to get cold feet. The copter swept in low over the United Oil perimeter fence and settled down softly in an open space near the wharf. There were no challenges, no alarms, no gunfire. Enterich’s informants must have been right about Haesslich accepting delivery privately. It did fit the pattern of the Dragon wanting as few witnesses as possible. Even a circumstantial connection had been enough for him to order the murder of Hanae and Sam.

  As soon as the craft’s rotors slowed, Sam slipped into his long coat, hefted the case over one shoulder, and climbed out. Walking clear of the copter, he set his burden down and gazed around him. The area seemed deserted. Haesslich, in either Human or Dragon form, was nowhere in sight.

  He waited. Behind him, the blades of the helicopter stopped turning, but the distant sound of a jet far overhead made him look up. Moving against the stars was a dark shape heading in from the Sound. As it drew nearer, he made out a long, sinuous body slung between a pair of large wings and knew it for a dracoform.

  It was just offshore when Sam realized this could not be Haesslich. It was no Western Dragon, but a feathered serpent. A taloned hind limb unfolded down from its tucked position as the serpent swept toward him.

  Suddenly, the serpent checked its approach and veered higher. Sam saw why as a dark shape, bulkier than the serpent, rose on great membranous wings. Even in the low light, Sam had no doubt that this second creature was a Western Dragon. It cut across the path of the first.

  A hiss, a roar, the crash of massive bodies colliding, and they were past each other, a flurry of feathers tumbling in the wind of their passage. The serpent’s flight became erratic, its wings beating irregularly. The Western Dragon banked wide and returned in a stooping dive. This time, Sam saw the talons score bloody furrows in the other’s flank. The serpent screamed its agony and twisted, trying to avoid the jaws snapping at him.

  As those jaws closed on the serpent’s neck, the weakened beast responded by wrapping its own body around the Western Dragon. Both began to plummet from the sky. Ten meters from the ground, the Western Dragon broke free of the serpent’s coils, wings beating furiously to stay in the air. The mortally wounded serpent continued its descent, then struck the concrete wharf with an earth-shaking crash.

  The other pounced on it, tearing with claws and ripping with jaws. “Hart!” the serpent cried out plaintively, just before the Western Dragon tore out its throat.

  The victor raised his head, tongue slithering out to lick his muzzle clean. When a tentative pawing aroused no response from the serpent, the beast turned its back on the corpse and marched toward Sam.

  “Haesslich,” Sam said.

  “Good evening, manling.”

  Pinned under the beast’s fearsome stare, Sam began to wonder what had possessed him to attempt this. A Dragon was unpredictable, at least to Human logic. How could he expect it to yield to any pressure he might try to apply? “Why did you kill Tessien? I thought it was on your payroll.”

  Contempt swelled around Sam. “It was, but I have no use for those who fail me. I have less for those who lie to me, as it did when first reporting your demise. It will, however, make a good meal.””

  “It made a mistake, so you killed it? And now you’re going to eat it?”

  “Of course. Its associate will meet a similar fate when she arrives with my delivery.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “But you can’t stop it, manling.” The Dragon’s amusement rolled across Sam. “I thought you might be trouble when we first met, but such has not been the case. Your poking and prying into my business has been totally ineffectual. I need never have been concerned.”

  Sam hated this arrogant beast, and wanted desperately to humble him. What Haesslich had done, what he planned to do, were wrong, but the Dragon seemed not to know it. Sam no longer had any doubts about what he must do. Tonight, the menace of Haesslich would be stopped.

  “You should be concerned,” he said. “I know that your operation at the arcology was set up without the approval or knowledge of your bosses at United Oil. They won’t help you now. It’s not in their interest to protect a murderer who uses their assets for his own purposes. Once the evidence becomes public, UniOil will be glad to see you get the full penalty under the law. Your arrogance seems to have no limit, Dragon, but people are not toys for your amusement nor will you get away with committing murder.

  “I came here tonight to offer you a chance to surrender. Give yourself up to the police and stop the bloodshed. You might earn the court’s mercy. But even if you don’t turn yourself in voluntarily, you’ll still be brought to trial.”

  “Unlikely,” Haesslich responded, his amusement growing.

  Exactly the answer Sam had expected. What he hadn’t anticipated was the undertone in the Dragon’s emotional broadcast. Hunger. His knees felt weak; he hadn’t thought about being eaten. He felt his resolve waver, then he remembered Hanae and Begay. They were good people whose lives had been cut short at the whim of this beast. He knew very little about the others who had been killed that night in the Tir, but it still added up to too many deaths at Haesslich’s orders. Tonight would be the end. Sam straightened to his full height, craning his neck to stare into the face of the Dragon. Haesslich’s fangs glittered in the moonlight.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” Sam asked, with a calm that surprised him. “I won’t make much of a meal, but you’ll choke on it.”

  Sam felt a peculiar vibration in the Dragon’s emotional tone. He decided it must be the Dragon’s laughter.

  “Your death is no longer necessary. I will have what I want when Hart brings it to me tonight. You and your threats have become meaningless, but your bluff amuses me.”

  “You’re wrong, Dragon. Your plan isn’t concluded tonight, it’s exposed.” Sam flicked the replay switch. “Watch.”

  A ghostly image of the scene at Landing Pad 23 lit up the wall of a nearby structure. The Federated Boeing Commuter bearing Aztechnology markings was just landing.

  Hart had felt Tessien’s death. Hearing it call her name had chilled her to the bone, telling her it had never betrayed her, that her suspicions had been misplaced. Tears streaming from her eyes, she stood staring while Haesslich talked to Verner. She listened in shocked silence as the

  long-range pickup relayed every word. She shivered when Haesslich pronounced her death sentence.

  “Looks like you’re out of work, chummer.” Greerson crouched at her feet, assembling a sniper rifle. “But I’ve still got a contract on the kid. Don’t suppose you’d like to put one on the wizworm? That launcher’ll do him as easy as a helo. Once Verner’s down, I’ll be glad to open negotiations.”

  Hart was not much interested in death at the moment. “What’s the point?”

  “The point is business, Elf lady. Always business.”

  Hart stared at the wreck that had been Tessien, the only being she had come close to trusting in the last ten years. It was dead now. It had died calling for her, but she had failed it long before that with her groundless suspicions.

  Tessien was dead. Anger roared throug
h her, swelling into a rage. Was it Verner’s fault? Should she detest him for being alive while Tessien was dead? Or should she turn her fury against Haesslich for ripping out the serpent’s throat? Or should she despise herself for being the one to send Tessien in to get Sam, putting the serpent in the path of the murderous Haesslich?

  Verner’s portable trideo unit continued flickering its story on the wall. It showed Verner, who she had trailed all night and who could not possibly have been present, leading the raiders against Landing Pad 23. Crenshaw’s trap had turned a snatch-and-run into an all-out battle. Images of death and destruction cast their reflections on man and Dragon. Reflected on the wall, Crenshaw battled with the doppelganger. Hart dropped a hand to Greerson’s shoulder. “I think you’d better take a look.”

  Greerson slipped his goggles into place just in time to see the doppelganger tossing Crenshaw from the landing platform. “Oh, frag it!” He sat down and let out an explosive sigh. “There goes the paycheck.” He started to break down the sniper rifle.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like, Elf lady? Packing up. This job’s over.” He stuffed the pieces of his weapon into his carryall. “Sure you don’t want to hit the Dragon? Since I’m already here, I could give you a good price.”

  She shook her head.

  Greerson stood looking at her for a moment, pulling at his beard. “So, Elf lady, can I get out the way we got in?”

  She nodded, turning her gaze back to the confrontation below them. She heard the rattle of his grapnel as he shook it loose and then she forgot him completely.

  Haesslich didn’t like what he saw at all. If he had noticed Sam’s image on the screen, the confusion of the image was swept away by the Dragon’s passion. His rage swelled until it was almost a palpable thing surrounding Sam. And yet all that wrath was simply for the failure of a plan. Again the arrogance of the beast confounded Sam.