Dragon Redemption

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Dragon Redemption Page 5

by Valerie Emerson


  “What is it?”

  Night Thorn’s voice replaced the bells. “Eight hours have elapsed since you went to sleep. You agreed to wake at this time to keep me company.”

  He rolled onto his back. “Dante’s sleeping?” He’d been in the middle of a lovely dream, but a promise was a promise. Even if it was made to a machine.

  “M1C Dante’s body settled into a sleep pattern three hours and seventeen minutes ago. We were watching an intriguing historical drama up to that point. His vital signs showed a physiological reaction to the show, particularly the violence, yet he fell asleep nevertheless. I was disappointed but will wait until he has rejuvenated his body so we may continue.”

  “That’s too bad.” Jack rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled out of bed. “We humans can only go so long without sleep.”

  “I understand. I will prepare a caffeinated beverage before we begin.”

  Jack chuckled as he padded out of the bedroom. “You’re a pal, Thorn.”

  Night Thorn slid the door open for Jack and shut it once he entered the main cabin. A cup of hot coffee awaited in the synthesizer. He grabbed it and eased into his seat. “Today’s the day we get there, isn’t it? Is it today yet?” He sipped the coffee. It tasted magical.

  “It is seven-oh-seven in the AM in your time zone of residence on Earth. We will arrive at Zeri Station in approximately six-point-three-five Earth hours. This leaves us sufficient time to apprehend the Dawn Enchantress and free the townsfolk.”

  Jack grinned. He couldn’t help being flattered by an AI enjoying his role-playing game campaign. Night Thorn had taken to Dungeons & Dragons as if she’d been programmed for it. She’d even started building her own campaign, stated to Jack she was too shy to share it.

  “Sure, as soon as Dante wakes up.”

  “Very well.”

  Her lights dimmed, changing from white to amber. Jack kept quiet. Thorn’s moods were reflected in the lighting’s levels and steadiness, but she’d been quite abashed when he’d mentioned it before.

  “In the meantime, we could watch something,” he offered. He smiled when the lights brightened.

  “I have an animated film about rabbits. The premise is that rabbits can predict the future. Is this factual, you think, or another fantasy?”

  “Fantasy, as far as I know. If there are rabbit Mystics, I have yet to hear about it.”

  Her lights flickered a warmer shade; her version of laughter. He far preferred it over Thorn’s first attempt, which had been…uncanny. “Then we will watch the fantastic rabbits until Dante awakens. I will dampen the speakers in the sleeping chamber while he sleeps.”

  “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” Jack patted the wall. He’d watch the movie closely enough to talk to Thorn about it, though he’d try to think through the mission before they arrived too.

  It was straightforward enough. On their first stop, they would meet their informant, follow instructions, then leave Zeri Station without getting recognized. Straightforward or not, Jack felt out of his depth. A lot of this subterfuge business was new to him, no matter how much preparation he’d had. Reading about a task was one thing, actually putting one’s acquired knowledge into action was quite the other. He’d studied all he could. The only thing left was to pass the time until they arrived.

  Zeri Station was a floating metal donut with a power generator that spun like a top above the ring. Every part of the station buzzed with activity, numerous ships alighting at the docks and flying away like an orderly swarm of bees. Night Thorn soared into the organized chaos while she communicated with the harbor computer, negotiating a berth and making payment while Jack and Dante got ready.

  The Mystics wore dark green coveralls, patched at the elbows with the insignia of a defunct mining corporation. If anyone asked, they were asteroid surveyors on their way to the next contract—with a few more rote answers if they came across any attentive inquirers.

  Night Thorn locked onto the dock, and the Mystics joined the throng from other vessels as they made their way into the station. The place reminded Jack of a combination casino/airport with a mall thrown in for good measure. Everywhere he looked, holographic screens advertised luxuries from massages to gourmet meals to knickknacks from various systems, including Earth.

  An ad with a familiar-looking Yeti caught his attention. Jack smiled at the image. His friend Bava Inga was still singing the blues and, judging by the holographic’s quality, doing well too. He wanted to find him and say hello but his orders were clear. He couldn’t break cover for anyone, not even a friend.

  He and Dante wove through the crowd until they found the station’s Central Hub. The press of bodies in the vicinity made Jack claustrophobic. He pulled Dante to the wall for a little space and privacy.

  “Are you sure this is it? There are dozens of witnesses here,” he spoke into Dante’s ear.

  “This is it,” Dante said, laying a reassuring hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Just stay close and act casual. We’ll be in and out before we know it. Come on.” Dante forged ahead, claiming a spot in the crowd.

  Jack followed, although, before long, a passing throng separated him from the senior Mystic. He kept a sharp eye on Dante as he made his way to a Tiel restaurant, its spicy odors overwhelming its neighboring shops. Jack’s nose itched. If he got much closer, his eyes were going to run, yet Dante forged on, not looking back.

  Jack pushed through the crowd, muttering apologies while trying to be unseen—a futile effort. Dante was inside the restaurant and leaning over the counter when Jack caught up.

  “…here for Leonard.” Dante spoke to the Tiel attendant on the other side, who looked busy if not harried. “Have you seen Leonard?” Dante said the counter-sign.

  Jack perked up and glanced around, making sure no one was too interested in them. Dante slid a metal chit across the countertop. The Tiel wiped a rag across the counter’s surface, moving lethargically, as if she couldn’t be any less interested.

  “Leonard hasn’t worked here in two years. You’ll need to look elsewhere.”

  He ran the rag over the counter, leaving a bright blue chit behind. Dante made it disappear, and the Tiel nodded.

  “If you aren’t going to order, move along.” The sudden anger in the Tiel’s voice startled Jack. “We are not a free exhibit!”

  Dante raised his hands. “Okay, settle down. We’ll move along.”

  “Come back when you have actual money!” The Tiel hissed.

  Outside the restaurant, Jack said low, “I assume that went well. What’s our next stop?”

  Dante grinned as they navigated west. When they emerged from Central Hub, they’d be about ninety degrees from the bay where Night Thorn was docked. No matter what happened, they couldn’t have their actions traced back to Earth. Once they had the weaponry in hand, they would move to the next stage.

  Jack peeped over his shoulder. All sorts of species filled the station, Tiel, Yeti, humans. He had the feeling they were being watched, yet whenever he stole a glance behind them, nothing stood out.

  Dante tugged at Jack’s sleeve. The Mystic had slid the chit procured from the Tiel at the restaurant into his datapad, and he yanked Jack with him as they made a sharp right into a side corridor where the crowd was lighter. Another turn, and another, and then they were alone in a vacant service corridor.

  Overhead lights brightened to a dim glow as they passed beneath each one, shining more on the two Mystics than illuminating the way ahead. Every footstep echoed. Jack didn’t like this. It was too quiet, too remote.

  Their journey ended at a small alcove where a hooded figure awaited. A chitinous, segmented arm slid out of the robe holding a datapad. Its screen had one word spelled out in bold lettering.

  WHAT

  “Jaf sent us. The bolt throwers?” Dante said.

  He sounded calm. Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the alien’s clawed hand. He’d heard of the Acridos but never seen one before.

  A clacking rose from under the hood
. The figure withdrew the datapad under the folds of its robes. After a moment, the datapad came back into sight with a new message.

  DON’T KNOW JAF DON’T KNOW HUMANS YOU SECURITY SHOW BADGES

  “Uh, we’re not security. We’re here to do business,” Dante told it.

  PROOF

  Jack watched the screen vanish beneath the cloak. The Acridos wanted proof they weren’t infiltrators. He worried the alien might just go ahead and open fire on them both.

  Dante rolled his neck a bit. “How do you propose we do that?”

  More clacking emerged, rapid-fire this time, and Jack stole a glance at Dante. His friend’s expression was blank, but his fingers curled, clutching at the air. He likely felt the same way as Jack. This wasn’t going well, and he figured his fellow Mystic didn’t know how to proceed.

  The Acridos’s claw reappeared with a pair of little white packets balanced on the screen. Jack had a terrible certainty they weren’t filled with sweetener.

  The packets slid across the tilted datapad just far enough to uncover the words beneath: DRUGS SAFE FOR HUMAN PLACE UNDER TONGUE FOR PROOF

  “How will that prove anything?” Jack said. “How can we trust you? How do we know that isn’t some contagion?”

  “Not the best time, Jack,” Dante murmured.

  But the Acridos stepped forward before Dante said more. Its hood came level with Jack’s head. The lumps and shapes under the robe smoothed out with a series of popping noises that reminded him of arthritic joints, then it loomed over them, its shoulders pressed against the ceiling while an unusual and powerful smell like strong cinnamon wafted down.

  “Maybe we should go,” Jack whispered, looking agape at the alien.

  Dante edged closer to him. “Yeah. Let’s disappear, huh?”

  Jack grabbed Dante’s sleeve while Dante grabbed Jack’s in return. The alien’s hood had slipped to reveal four egg-shaped eyes. It chittered in its native tongue, clicking and clacking. Then, from behind them, a warbling howl arose and something huge, furry, and fast blurred past the Mystics to collide with the Acridos.

  Dante backed away, pulling Jack’s arm. The aliens went into a frenzy. The attacker wasn’t as tall yet looked to be pure muscle.

  Jack let Dante pull him along a few paces. “That’s a Yeti! I think I know that guy.”

  “That’s the Yeti friend you’ve mentioned?” Dante stopped tugging at Jack.

  “I believe so. I hope so. It’s kind of hard to tell with Yeti…”

  The Acridos broke away and fled, tearing its robes from the Yeti’s claws. The Yeti paced the width of the corridor, watching until the alien was out of sight. Once satisfied, it turned to face the Mystics.

  Jack had never seen an angry Yeti before. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, showing off just how many teeth could fit into a mouth that size. Fur stood out in tufts, making it look nearly twice its normal size.

  The Yeti took a black cylinder out of a belt pouch and pressed one end to his throat. “Friend Jack! Bava finds you, despite your unfortunate change of appearance! Do you remember? I am Bava.”

  “Of course, I remember you!” Jack grinned and stepped closer. “It’s been too long, pal.”

  “Too long, you say? You walk right by my club. Why does Friend Jack give Bava the ice-shoulder?”

  “Ice-sho…oh, cold shoulder! I’m sorry, Bava. It was orders.”

  “Orders?” The Yeti growled at Dante, who flinched back. “Is this human order you? Do you require Bava’s assistance?”

  “No, no! This is my partner, Dante. Dante, this is my friend, Bava.”

  Dante bowed his head. “Nice to meet you, Bava. Apologies, but we are on a discreet mission so we must be hasty. We don’t want any more attention. No offense.”

  “Ah. So you are not on Zeti to talk to Bava because I am not of this Earth. This is secret, correct?” Bava’s fur smoothed out, and his eyes didn’t look quite so angry. “Bava is practiced at secrets. Come. Bava will assist.”

  Dante shook his head. “That’s the thing. This is our mission. We need to buy some non-human weapons. We aren’t allowed to make a social call.”

  “What does it mean ‘social call?’ Recipe only works until first egg is broken, yes?” Bava bobbed his head.

  Jack’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if that’s—”

  The Yeti closed the distance between them and seized him in an embrace. He lifted Jack off the floor, pinning his arms, his feet dangling. “But now you are here, and it is good! Friend Jack, you do not want to buy from junk dealer. You do better. Bava will assist.”

  “But you don’t even know what we’re up to.” Dante still sounded nervous, even with Jack’s ears muffled by the thick fur.

  “Matters small. Tiny. Jack is friend to Bava and to Inga. He opposes Pirr, rats who break up my bar when Jack is not found there. His enemies are Bava’s enemies. His needs are Bava’s needs. Bava will assist.”

  The Yeti released Jack. His feet hit the floor. He coughed and sucked a lungful of air.

  Dante moved into the alcove and peered around. It was empty of everything but the cushion the alien had sat on.

  “We appreciate that, Bava, but I don’t know if you can help.”

  Jack watched Dante poke around the cushion, wishing he hadn’t opened his big mouth. Maybe if he’d kept quiet…

  The Acridos had wanted them to take some unknown substance. That was never going to happen.

  “Why? Skulking past my club then refused to talk what he is doing? I already know, Friend Jack. You are under veil of secret, yet Bava unties knot of riddle. Secret need not burden you. You may tell Bava. Bava will bury it in his hearts.”

  Jack looked at Dante. The Mystic shrugged. The Yeti had already sussed out what was going on. Lying to him now would be an insult.

  “All right, Bava,” Jack said. “Yes, we’re on a mission. It’s dangerous, so we need weapons. It involves the Pirr, so it has to be an absolute secret. If you can point us at a better weapons dealer, we’d be grateful.”

  “It is done! Come. Follow, before Acridos returns with friends. Den is not far.”

  The crowds parted before Bava’s bulk, and the Mystics followed close by, hidden in the Yeti’s shadow. He took them on a convoluted route, full of turns to throw off followers. They wound up in a corridor with no one but a few Yeti, who Bava greeted as they passed, and they made a gesture that was partially a salute, partially waving.

  Every door was open yet veiled by beaded curtains. Each one had a unique pattern and color scheme. They became more complex the further the trio walked, until they reached the end of the corridor and the final doorway.

  This curtain was the most complex. When they passed through, Jack saw that the beads were multiple colors, each one painted with meticulous care to create a plaid composed of green, white, and violet.

  The first room was a kitchen with a small round table at the center. A gray-furred Yeti hovered over a stove, stirring a sweet-smelling sauce. The alien turned and growled inquiringly. Bava gurgled in return, and the gray Yeti went back to cooking.

  “Our father, Yulu. He received Bava’s message and says all food here is human safe.”

  Bava tapped at a screen on the wall, and, a moment later, familiar music began to play. Yulu yowled under his breath.

  “Is that…American blues?” Dante furrowed his brow.

  “Chicago Blues,” Bava confirmed. “Yulu does not like it. Yulu prefers ska. Bava has little ska. Wait here. Eat. Bava will gather what you need.”

  “Are we sure this is safe?” Dante asked Jack after Bava vanished into the residence.

  “Bava helped me get off this station before when the Pirr had us on lockdown. We’ve been corresponding since. He really is a friend, Dante—a good friend.”

  “I have no doubt. You’ve mentioned him a time or two or maybe a dozen,” Dante said, grinning. “I was asking about the food.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows and grabbed a greenish lump that might have been a roll.
It was a mix of sweet and savory, while also being quite different from anything he’d eaten. He nibbled at it, trying to relate the flavors to something he was familiar with, but the alien food defied him.

  Bava returned with an armful of leathery clothing and a large metal case. The Yeti had put on a bulky multi-pocketed vest. A leather sash hung across him from left shoulder to right hip. An empty holster hung at the end.

  He urged Jack and Dante to go through the clothing and find things that fit. The leather turned out to be a synthetic material woven around flexible plates. Jack and Dante each took armored jackets and boots that made them appear not unlike space pirates or mercenaries.

  Next came holsters and weapons that had a resemblance to handguns, enough that the Mystics picked up the basics easily.

  “What’s with your friend’s armor?” Dante asked Jack in low tones. “Does he think he’s coming?”

  “You will need Bava,” Bava spoke with the cylinder to his throat. His growls sounded angrier than the voice emitting through the device. “Bava strong. Make you look less…official, yes? Bava is coming with Friend Jack.”

  Dante looked Bava over with a dubious expression. He peered at Jack.

  “You know…I think it’s a good idea,” Jack said. “We don’t have any friends here. Bava will help us blend in.”

  Yulu growled over the stove.

  Jack looked over at the older Yeti. “What did Yulu say?”

  Bava put the device to his throat. “Yulu understands why you may say no. He says Bava is grown soft, but Yulu is nitwit. Bava is not softened. Yulu is old and soft like butter.”

  Yulu responded with a snarl, but without an edge and didn’t come across as hostile. The Yeti went back and forth a moment before Bava spoke through his device. “Yulu is correct about one thing. Bava is having been too long in one place with no tests of courage or cleverness. Bava humbly requests Friend Jack and Mystic Dante allow Bava on their adventure. We can share much music and learn new elements and likings.”

 

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