Dragon Fire (Galaxy On Fire Book 5)

by Craig Robertson

  “Yes, in fact, I do. Are you volunteering to help, Ardy?”

  This time, the others laughed heartily.

  “No, I think … er, what’s that fellow’s name again?”

  “I trust you are referring to Jangir.”

  “Yes,” he pointed energetically, “that’s it. I think Jangir would be insulted if I tried to step ahead of him in that line.”

  More chuckles.

  “I’ll check with him, as you seem to be insistent.”

  The others were back to bawdy giggles.

  “I mean, really, the goon is so energetic, so hard working for a Descore. It’s hard to believe he was born to servitude.”

  “If a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing well,” replied Harhoff confidently.

  “And I trust your rump is spotless,” returned Ardile.

  The joke had apparently died, since that brought nothing more from the crowd than soft grunts.

  “I am glad Harhie here has gone to the trouble and expense to obtain a Descore,” said Gardov, pointing his fork. “Lending him to me saves me the burden of so many chores.”

  “Hear, hear,” said another, raising his glass. “To fewer chores and more sleeping.”

  “Really, you slackers. I was hoping you could devote more time to work if I let you borrow my manservant. To think, you piss away your newly gotten time sleeping. Well, I can tell you I’m shocked.”

  “Do tell. The bags under your eyes seem to have faded nicely since Jangir showed up,” responded Gardov.

  The group was back to pleasant chuckles at that slight.

  “Do you know he was actually able to help organize my personal files?” Medilip nodded grandiosely. “Yes, I couldn’t believe a Descore would be so well educated to understand systemization and computer protocol so thoroughly. It’s amazing what they must learn in their schools these days. I should have thought it was nothing more than how to fold napkins and be generally agreeable.”

  “Yes, Harhoff, thank you again for your generosity,” proclaimed Gardov with another toast. “To the easy life.”

  They all clinked glasses.

  Harhoff knew none of them suspected he was toasting to the abundant intelligence he was gathering with his manservant’s aid. It was almost too easy. Then again, these dupes were rather ripe for the picking. Harhoff was doing them a favor.

  TEN

  As Cala and I climbed aboard Stingray, I waved to Mirraya, Slapgren, and their kids. I also waved to Shielan. She’d agreed to stay with the Deft family until our return. If it became obvious we weren’t coming back, she would transport them to Vorpace and help get them set up there. She was a good person. If Sapale would have been there, I do believe she would have felt less warmly toward Shielan. That’d be my guess.

  One brief bout of nausea later, and we were back on the ground where we’d landed the first time. There was no Himanai or other greeting committee since we popped into existence without notice. We quickly left the vortex and began walking in the direction Cala suggested, toward a high concentration of houses. She wanted to get some feel for the society before she was forced to confront it. I was in favor of anything that got me closer to retrieving Sapale. To tell the truth, I was itching for a fight. I’m certain Cala sensed that and made a point to assume the lead for this expedition. We both had a lot at stake, but I was the one with the hair-trigger attitude.

  After fifteen minutes, a flock of individuals began trailing behind us. A few were visants, but most were typical-looking Deft adults. They held behind us at a respectful distance, just matching our speed. I didn’t get any sense of animosity on their part. Neither did I get the impression that they were curious. They were simple keeping an eye on us while waiting to see what we planned on doing. No one was visibly armed.

  When we arrived at a large wooded square in the middle of town, Cala stopped, and the pack behind us caught up quickly. They halted twenty-five meters away and remained silent.

  Cala turned to them. “We come in peace. We seek the recovery of our shipmate who we believe was detained by your people. Where is she to be found?”

  No one answered. No one as much as shuffled their feet nervously. They just watched us.

  “I wish to speak to anyone in a position of control. Where will I find that individual?” asked Cala calmly.

  Again, there was no reaction from the crowd. The situation was getting creepy. How long would this standoff last?

  As we waited a response, a bronze visant landed in front of us. She folded her wings back elegantly and sat back on her haunches. Once settled, she remained as silent as the rest of the observers.

  “I am Calfada-Joric. I am a brindas from the planet Locinar. You are my distant cousins. I would speak to you.” Then Cala rested back in a identical pose as the bronze dragon.

  While the word brindas drew no physical response, the tension in the air spiked after she spoke it.

  I do believe that if none of the Plezrite spoke, I’d still be standing in the stupid town square looking at two stubborn dragons. Cala was not going to say another peep until someone acknowledged her.

  After ten minutes, the bronze beauty spoke. “I am Yisbid, Grand Visionary for this decade.”

  I had basically no clue what that meant. I guess that didn’t matter too much, but I couldn’t stop trying to figure out what she did for a living.

  “My life is enhanced for knowing you, Yisbid,” Cala said formally. She nodded slightly.

  “As is mine in turn,” replied Yisbid with a similar faint nod.

  All right, there were some cultural similarities here. That suggested a good beginning was possible.

  “I would know of the reason for your intrusion,” said Yisbid formally. That remark wasn’t very encouraging.

  “I am certain you know it, pfutump. Why do you bother to ask the obvious?” replied Cala. Pfutump was a term roughly equivalent to little girl. It wasn’t a pejorative, but neither was it a compliment.

  “We are unaccustomed to the ways of the brindas. My apologies.”

  “Common courtesy is not the exclusive purvey of the brindas.” Oh yeah, zap.

  “Why are you here?”

  “The human will recover his mate. She is in the large building down the street on the left-hand side, with the red banner above the door.”

  Must have been a brindas thing. I couldn’t sense Sapale’s location.

  “She was held to ensure the mate would return. No harm has come to her.”

  “These things I know. Why is it important the human return if he was not welcome in the first place?”

  “Now it is you who ask the painfully obvious.”

  “It is my way. I am simple. I will simply be treated well, with respect, and my wishes honored.”

  Man, she was ballsy.

  “You do not rule here, witch. Mind your status.”

  “Pray you never learn of my full status, pfutump. Now, I am old, and I grow weary cackling in the streets with strangers. I will proceed to the building the prisoner is being held and retrieve her.”

  “She is not a prisoner, and you may not retrieve her.”

  “She is an honored guest whom you jealously guard because of your fondness for her?”

  “She is, as I said, a detainee to ensure the return of the human.”

  “As he is here, your concerns are at an end.”

  “You cannot take her by force.”

  “Is that a statement of hope on your part or ignorance?”

  “Neither. We will not be bullied by heretics.”

  “Excellent. Neither will I. If you see one, please alert me, and we shall both be rude to them.”

  “It is unwise to attempt a forceful rescue.”

  “Then how, child, will I gain the release of my quarry?”

  “If she is to be released, it can only be through negotiation.”

  “Hmm. Let us all hope negotiations do the trick, for she will be released.”

  “Come with me. The High Council is prepared t
o meet with you.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” replied Cala. “Come, Jon Ryan. We go to make nice.”

  “The human is forbidden to enter the chamber. No alien may attend.”

  “So, this human’s mate, the very subject of my visit, will not be present?”

  “Of course, she will. How can they discuss her if she isn’t in evidence?”

  “And since she is an alien and will attend, so will this odd foreigner. Come, strange beast,” she said over her shoulder to me. I liked her style under pressure.

  We walked quickly to the building with the red pennant flopping in the breeze. Cala and I followed and entered single file. Our procession ended almost immediately in a large room directly off the foyer. Several visants sat around a round table, along with a few humanoid-formed Deft. Sapale was in a wooden juror’s box built into a corner of the room. I waved to her energetically. She shrugged back at me.

  “Council members, this is Calfada-Joric. She claims to be a brindas from a planet named Locinar. She has come to request the release of the detainee.” Yisbid bowed deeply and withdrew. She closed the double doors as she left.

  Immediately, a copper-colored visant spoke. “No one on this council hoped to ever have a member of the arcane religious order present herself to this esteemed body.”

  “Children often want more than they may receive,” Cala said firmly.

  “I will ask you to refrain from verbal jousting. This is a very serious matter, and your arrival is even more concerning.”

  “Will the one doing the asking care to identify herself, or is this to be a secret tribunal?”

  “I am Wensist. I sit as council chair this year.” Her voice was strained.

  “Cousin Wensist, I will stop jousting when you do, not before.”

  “Are you here to convert us, witch?” shouted a humanoid several seats away.

  “Not you, for certain, little brain. Us heretics do have standards.”

  There was a buzz of chatter around the table.

  “Enough. Silence,” shouted Wensist. “I will ask the members of this council to behave as grown adults, not frightened children. Mancope, please retract your accusation.”

  Uncertainly at first, the one who called Cala a witch spoke. “I retract my accusation. It was wrong of me to shout it out.”

  “And not wrong of you to hold it in your mouth?” asked Cala.

  “Will the brindas please hold her obviously superior tongue in check?” asked Wensist with obvious frustration.

  “As long as it suits my purposes, council chair.”

  “We assume you are here to beg for the freedom of this alien invader. I must warn you we are disinclined to allow her, or any of you, for that matter, to leave this planet and reveal the secret we have so jealously guarded for so long.”

  “There is much troubling in your statement, Wensist,” Cala began. “First, I have never and will never beg for anything. Second, this alien invader, as you so harshly call her, is no threat to you. Third, do not mistake your inclination to be a force that will affect my personal resolve. Now we can bluster back and forth until dawn, but there is no gain in that. Alternately, we can talk as reasonable souls and accomplish something important.”

  “What important matters would you have us agree to?”

  “Why, the unification of our two societies, naturally.”

  “You do wish to control our minds, dark witch of hell,” shouted Mancope. He stood and pointed at her frantically.

  “Will my second please remove that fool from the room?”

  A visant rose and placed her talons on Mancope’s shoulder. She pushed him forward out of the room. He didn’t protest, probably because the talons would have just dug deeper.

  “I apologize for his outburst. Mancope is a fine individual, but he fears change. He fears a change involving a religious all the much more,” said Wensist.

  “I would like to clarify something. I am a brindas. I have studied the mystical ways of all our people, the collective knowledge of our race. I am not a priestess, a religious zealot, nor an evangelical of any kind. I am not here to convert you, save your souls, or have you adore me.”

  “Then why are you here?” asked a visant seated next to Wensist.

  “Brother Markum, I believe she has made that clear,” interjected Wensist. “She is here to seek reconciliation, reunion.”

  “I also come to expedite the release of this human’s mate.” She pointed to me without looking at me.

  “I will be honest and forthcoming on that point, Calfada-Joric,” began Wensist. “We split from your society a very long time ago for powerful reasons we continue to hold. As the body charged with the preservation of this population, we are challenged to allow anyone knowing of our existence an opportunity to betray our location. If any of you three were to leave, ever, how do we know we could trust you to guard the secret?”

  “You have nothing to fear. I can tell you this as a promise,” responded Cala. “The human only wanted to confirm your presence so he could alert me. This he has done. I assure you he has no further interest in your world. He will not tell anyone of the Plezrite’s position, because he will gain nothing passing such information along.”

  “And why is it this alien felt it was so important to tell a brindas of our existence? What does he think you will gain, you will accomplish with that information?” asked Wensist.

  “He thinks the last handful of Deft might not die out as a species. That’s what he hopes to see come to pass.”

  That brought mumbling and shuffling all around the table.

  “Are you saying there are but a handful of your population remaining? That, before you answer, is difficult to accept or believe,” queried Wensist.

  “There are five of us left. One is pregnant. Soon we will be six Deft laboring in this sad life. Soon enough, there will be none.”

  More hushed mumbling circulated.

  “Was there a plague? How could all the Deft be eliminated?”

  “A conquering force named the Adamant. They murdered all the Deft but us. We numbered in the billions. They came, they slaughtered, and the Deft perished as a race.”

  “This is beyond tragic and, to be honest, difficult to believe.”

  “I have the power of zar-not. I offer to join minds with you freely, so you can see the bare truth of it, the stark reality.”

  Wensist thought a moment. He was clearly stunned. “I will speak for the council. The human female is free to leave, as is the male. We cordially invite you, Calfada-Joric, to remain as our treasured guest. We wish to more fully understand the matter of genocide and the reunification of our people.”

  “I accept your kind offer.” She turned to me. “Go in peace, Jon Ryan. I shall rename you, sir. You are now to be known to the Deft as The Impossible Force. Tell the children I am well and will rejoin them soon. Your kind friend may return home as soon as she desires to.”

  With that, I helped Sapale jump over the railing of her box, and we walked very quickly to Stingray. We were back on Rameeka Blue Green in seconds. I was so relieved. Sapale, not so much. She was so mad at the Plezrite, and she wanted to go back and whoop some butt. Why? Because they called her human. Them were fighting words for my Kaljaxian princess. She was so darn cute it hurt.

  ELEVEN

  Sapale and I returned by Rameeka Blue Green to bring Mirri and Slapgren up to date. Then we took Shielan home to Vorpace. That way she could leave the ship behind for the Deft to use. She’s instructed both how to pilot the shuttle, including test flights, so they were comfortable using it. I also wanted to touch base with her big sister to see how the whole mutual defense thing was coming along.

  By the way, I was totally blown away by Sapale’s reaction to Shielan. In place of instinctive female rivalry, they got along like long lost friends. The two exchanged contact information, drank coffee, laughed together, and made plans to visit each other very soon. I mean, a little cat fighting over me might have been nice.

&
nbsp; The three of us went right to Jonnaha’s office after we landed. “Well look what …” Jonnaha started to say. Then she saw Sapale come in last. “Well what a surprise,” she quickly censored herself.

  “I called you not five minutes ago,” Shielan said with a puzzled look.

  “Yes, you did. I’m surprised it took you so long to get here. I’m dying for coffee, but I wanted to wait until you three got here.” She thumbed a button on her desk. “Coffee for four, please.” Then she sat back down and smiled like the politician she was.

  “Jonnaha this is my wife, Sapale,” I introduced.

  They shook and exchanged brief pleasantries.

  “Your wife. Ah, newlyweds?” Jonnaha asked with a squeak.

  I looked at Sapale, who looked back at me. “What, two-billion years, give or take?”

  He bobbed her head. “Give or take.”

  Then we both laughed. Shielan knew the whole story, but Jonnaha was compelled to ask, “What? Did I miss something funny?”

  “We were only reunited since Jon first came here. He rescued my family from the Adamant conquest of my home world Kaljax,” Sapale said with a cordial smile.

  “Ah,” Jonnaha replied pointing her fingers in opposite directions. “Newly reunited.”

  “Yeah,” I moaned, “before that, she was with a real loser.”

  Jonnaha was starting to blush. “Who might that be?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Me from an alternate time line.”

  “Happens every day,” observed Shielan.

  “So, Jon, it wonderful to see you. I assume things worked out well for your shapeshifter friends since you’re all back here so soon.”

  “The two groups are talking. That’s a start,” I responded.

  “Well if there’s anything else we can do, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Will do. So, how’s your glue-together-a-resistance thing going?” I asked.

  Her smile disappeared. “It’s going, but slower than I would have wished for. Life may be short, but politics are eternal.”

  “Tell us about it,” replied Sapale.