Dragonback 01 Dragon and Thief (13 page)

"Pardon?"

"Dry ice," Jack repeated. "That's what we call frozen carbon
dioxide. The stuff evaporated slowly enough over the four-day trip to
Cordolane for the
Essenay
's air system to handle the extra gas
without triggering any alarms."

The cinnamon smell was getting stronger, he noticed. A bakery
nearby, maybe? He hoped so. He was starting to get hungry, and it had
been a long time since he'd had a good cinnamon roll.

"What is this place?" Draycos asked. "The smells are not those of
humans."

"I'm not sure," Jack said. "I've only been here a couple of times,
and never to this side of the port. If I'm remembering the map right,
it's the Wistawki area."

"Are they friendly to humans?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't think they're
un
friendly, for
whatever that's worth. I remember Uncle Virgil conning a couple of them
once; they seemed friendly enough. Gullible, too."

There was silence from his shoulder. Jack winced, realizing that
last comment had probably offended his companion. He opened his mouth
to apologize—

"Behind us," Draycos murmured.

"What?" Jack asked, his apology and rumbling stomach both abruptly
forgotten.

"Footsteps," the dragon said. "It is those who sought us in the
warehouse."

Jack didn't even bother to ask how in the world the dragon could
tell they were the same footsteps. "We'd better hide," he said, picking
up his speed as he looked around. No alleyways; no open doors; no
bushes or shrubs he could duck behind. He peered ahead, looking for a
cross street, but the nearest one was a long ways away.

"Those platforms," Draycos said. "Would one of those do?"

"The plat—? Oh, the balconies." Jack looked up at the nearest one.
It stretched across the full length of the second floor, a good six
feet above his head. "Sure, they'd do great. Problem is, they're a
little high up, and there's no way to climb them."

There was a sudden weight and pulling at the back of his collar,
and out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Draycos leaping
out from the back of his neck. "It can be done," the dragon declared as
he landed on the ground.

"Are you nuts?" Jack hissed, spinning around. "You want someone to
see you?"

"That way," Draycos ordered, jabbing his snout ahead.

"Run to that building. When I say
jump
, you will jump up
toward it."

Jack turned, frowning. The indicated building had a balcony, all
right, one with enough of a gap between the potted plants for him to
lie down in. But it was no lower than any of the other balconies. "I
can't jump that high, Draycos," he insisted, turning back. "If you
think—"

He broke off. Draycos had moved twenty feet back and was crouched
down in the middle of the street like a sprinter getting ready to run.

And in the dim streetlight, he could see that the dragon's gold
scales were turning black. "Go," the dragon ordered again. "Run."

Warrior ethic
, Uncle Virge's phrase flitted through Jack's
mind. What
did
a K'da warrior do, he wondered suddenly, if an
underling disobeyed a direct order? That might be something to ask
about when this was all over. "Yeah," he managed. "Right." Turning, he
took off toward the building as fast as he could run.

He wasn't alone. Draycos's feet were silent in the quiet street,
but Jack could hear the dragon's breath rapidly catching up behind him.

He could also hear the faint sound of footsteps now, approaching
from the direction they'd just come. They sounded like they were
running, too.

Jack clenched his teeth. Directly ahead of him, he suddenly
realized, was the building's main door, half hidden in the balcony's
shadow. Was
that
what the crazy dragon had in mind? That Jack
should slam into the door hard enough to break it down? He opened his
mouth to object—

"Jump!" Draycos ordered, his voice sounding nearly as close as if
he'd been riding Jack's shoulder. Automatically, Jack obeyed, bending
his knees and jumping as hard as he could. Something slammed into his
back, two other somethings jammed hard up under his arms—

And to his shock he found himself arcing upward straight at the
balcony.

He didn't have time for anything but a startled yelp before the
balcony rail caught him just below the tops of his boots, flipping him
over toward a headfirst landing.

Draycos, still gripping him under his arms, got there first. He
rolled around beneath Jack as they fell, taking the full brunt of
Jack's weight on himself as they sprawled onto the balcony.

"Quiet—they approach," Draycos whispered into his ear. "Down, and
behind me."

Jack rolled off onto the dragon's far side, too winded by their
landing to say anything. The footsteps were much closer now, and
definitely running. Pulling his knees to his chest, rubbing his shins
under the tops of his boots where the railing had hit them, he clamped
his teeth together hard and lay still. Behind him, he felt Draycos curl
around his back, protecting him from view from the street.

The footsteps came to a point just beneath the balcony and
faltered to a halt. "What the frunge?" a human voice said quietly.
"Where'd the little blinker go?"

"I don't like this," a second human voice growled. "He wasn't
that
far ahead of us."

"Maybe he picked a lock and went inside somewhere," the first
voice suggested. "He's supposed to be good at that."

There was a deep snort. "What, into a Wistawki house?" an equally
deep voice demanded. Too deep for human vocal cords, Jack decided. "In
this neighborhood? Today? He's not
that
stupid."

"Hey, the kid just got here," First Voice said. "He wouldn't know."

From the distance came a faint roar. Carefully, Jack turned his
head just enough to see the sky behind him. There, at the corner of his
vision, he spotted the familiar sight of a starship shooting up toward
the clouds.

A familiar sight, and an all-too-familiar engine pitch.

"Oh, frunge," First Voice said disgustedly. "There goes the uncle.
Looks like your buddies muffed it."

There was a dark-sounding rumbling noise. Jack frowned. He'd heard
that sound before.

Abruptly, it clicked.
A bass drum being attacked by a bunch of
chipmunks
. Apparently, he and Draycos had run into another Brummga.

"They have not
muffed
it, Drabs," the Brummga ground out.
"If the uncle escaped, it is because
your
people failed
their
job."

"Yeah?" First Voice—Drabs—retorted. "Well, if your group—"

"Both of you shut up," Second Voice cut them off. "Forget the
uncle. As long as we have the kid, he'll come when he's called."

"Except that we haven't
got
the kid," Drabs pointed out.

"We'll get him," Second Voice promised, and there was something in
his tone that made Jack shiver. "Don't you worry about
that
."

"Perhaps the great Lieutenant Raven knows what we do not," the
Brummga rumbled sarcastically. "Tell us what you know, Lieutenant
Raven."

"Watch your mouth, Brummy," Drabs warned. "You people work for us,
not the other way around."

"For starters, I know he didn't sprout wings and fly away," Second
Voice—Raven—said. "What about those balconies? Drabs?"

"Already checked 'em out," Drabs said. "Nothing that could
possibly be human on any of them. Anyway, he'd have needed a jet pack
to get up there."

"Then he's still ahead of us," Raven concluded. "Move out, and
make sure he doesn't go to ground."

The footsteps resumed, continuing down the street. Carefully, Jack
turned onto his back, easing his head up just enough to see over
Draycos's side. The two men and their lumbering Brummgan companion were
hurrying away down the street, looking right and left to check out
possible hiding places.

One of the men, he saw, had an infrared scanner strapped over one
eye. All three of them were wearing holstered guns at their sides.

Jack eased back down again, listening to the footsteps fade away
into the city noises. "Good thing they've never seen a K'da before," he
whispered. "I wonder what you look like on an infrared scanner."

"I do not know," Draycos whispered back. "Are you injured?"

"Not enough to worry about," Jack assured him. In point of fact,
his shins were throbbing, and would probably ache for at least a couple
more days. Compared to possibly getting shot, it didn't seem worth
mentioning.

"I did not intend to miss with the jump," Draycos said. "I
apologize."

"It's okay," Jack said. "The boots absorbed most of the impact.
I'm still surprised you were able to jump this high with a hundred-odd
pounds of Jack Morgan weighing you down."

"I am relieved that it was successful," Draycos said. "Still, I
regret my error."

"I said forget it," Jack said impatiently. The sort of people he
and Uncle Virgil usually hung around with never apologized even once,
let alone twice. The dragon's groveling was making him feel
uncomfortable. "Hey, no hospital, no foul."

"Pardon?"

"Skip it." Jack took a deep breath. "So they
were
waiting
for me.
And
for Uncle Virgil."

"So it would seem," Draycos agreed. "How is it they do not know he
is dead?"

"We didn't exactly announce it to the news nets," Jack said.
"Matter of fact, we kept it as quiet as possible. I already told you
why."

"Yes; the ownership of your spacecraft," Draycos said. "That point
does not appear to apply any longer."

"And that might be a problem," Jack admitted, gazing up at the
clouds drifting across the stars. There was nothing to see—Uncle Virge
and the
Essenay
were long gone. "They must have been trying to
break into the ship," he said. "That's the only reason Uncle Virge
would have cut and run."

"Will he simply abandon you?"

Jack shrugged. "We have a standard plan for situations like this,"
he said. "He'll try first to sneak back into one of the smaller
spaceports on Vagran and wait for me. If I don't show, or if he can't
get back in without attracting attention, he'll go to a rendezvous spot
on another planet and wait for me there."

"That assumes we will be able to get off this world."

"Normally that wouldn't be a problem," Jack said. "There are
regular passenger shuttles, and there's always a way to make enough
money for a ticket." He grimaced. "Of course, with Lieutenant Raven on
our trail it might not be that easy. I wonder what he's a lieutenant
of."

For a minute they lay together in silence. "They expected your
return," Draycos said at last. "That would mean they are involved with
the falsified theft. Perhaps we should try to learn more about them."

"What, you mean go looking for them?" Jack snorted. "At three to
one odds? You must be joking."

"The correct ratio is three to two," Draycos corrected him. "You
have forgotten about me."

"Hardly," Jack said, carefully sitting up. There was no sign of
Raven and his buddies anywhere he could see. "
You
were the one
on our side I was counting."

"Ah," Draycos said, uncurling himself. "I see."

"Right," Jack said. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Sooo soooon?" a slurred and raspy voice came from the corner of
the balcony.

Jack froze halfway to his feet. There, sitting against the rail in
the shadow between two huge potted plants, was the thin figure of a
Wistawk. "Sorry," Jack apologized. "We didn't mean to intrude."

"Not at all," the Wistawk said, getting to his feet like a
collapsible ruler unfolding. He wobbled for a moment as if trying to
get back on balance, then abruptly straightened to stand perfectly
upright. "Come," he said, darting suddenly to the edge of the balcony
to stand between Jack and the rail. "Come inside. Join the festivities."

"Ah . . . thanks," Jack said, trying to ease his way past their
would-be host. The Wistawk clearly was drunk, and in his state probably
thought Jack was another of his species.

Whoever was inside, though, probably wouldn't make that mistake.
The Brummga's earlier comment about only a fool trying to sneak into a
house in this neighborhood flitted through his mind. Had there been
some sort of trouble between humans and Wistawki on Vagran today?

The Wistawk was too fast for them. Moving like a large four-limbed
insect, he
again
got between Jack and any chance of escape.
Dimly, Jack wondered how fast the alien would be able to move if he
wasn't
drunk. "Come inside," he repeated. "Preenoffneoff!"

Jack winced as, behind him, the balcony doors were flung open.
"Ah, Preenoffneoff!" the drunk Wistawk greeted the newcomer. "Another
guest! Welcome him!"

"Another guest?" the newcomer said. His voice, as near as Jack
could tell, was stone-cold sober. "What is the meaning of this?"

Slowly, Jack turned around. Another Wistawk, even taller and
thinner than the drunk, was standing in the doorway. His arms were
folded, and he was staring at Jack with an unreadable expression. In
the room behind him were at least twenty more of the aliens, seated in
concentric circles around a pair sitting by a fireplace in the center.
All were dressed in glittering finery, with ornate headpieces that
caught the candlelight and scattered it around the room. All had
apparently stopped what they were doing and were looking toward the
balcony.

And with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jack realized what they
had done.

He and Draycos had just crashed a Wistawki bonding ceremony.

"Shall we leave?" Draycos murmured from beside him.

"No," Jack muttered back. He'd already seen how fast a drunk
Wistawk could move. The group inside didn't seem likely to be that
handicapped, which meant that outrunning them was out of the question.
Now, too late, he remembered that the Wistawki he and Uncle Virgil had
conned all those years ago had been rather elderly. Maybe that was the
only reason the two of them had made it out of that scam alive.