Dragonback 01 Dragon and Thief (12 page)

"Correct," Draycos said, the top of his head poking up off Jack's
shoulder again. "Now leave your hand up, but curl your fingers back
down to touch your arm."

"
Uh-huh,
" Jack said as he did so. "So if there was
something between the fingers and the palm—"

"Such as a wall," Uncle Virge put in.

"—such as a wall," Jack agreed, "you'd be leaning over it."

"I'll be dipped in butter and rolled in bread crumbs," Uncle Virge
murmured. "You can see through walls."

"Provided the barrier is narrow enough," Draycos said. "Though
Jack is correct; we refer to it as seeing 'over' a barrier."

"You can call it orange marmalade if you want to," Uncle Virge
said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic for the first time since they'd
met Draycos. "Well, well. Now
that
's a talent worth exploring."

"Uncle Virge," Jack warned.

"I know, I know—you're reformed," Uncle Virge soothed him. "But if
you
weren't
, imagine the kind of team you two would make."

"We do not use our abilities to steal," Draycos said, sounding
offended by the very suggestion.

"Maybe
you
don't," Uncle Virge said. "But I'll bet plenty
of your people have. Or are all K'da so lily-pure that the thought of
doing something illegal never even crosses their minds?"

"Of course we are not perfect beings," Draycos said. "But—"

"Can we get on with this?" Jack interrupted, turning his back to
the locker and pressing hard against it. "Draycos, do I need to take
off my jacket?"

His only answer was another sliding sensation against his skin. He
concentrated on the feeling, but couldn't distinguish it from any other
time Draycos moved around on him. Maybe sorting out the dragon's moves
would come with practice.

For a few seconds nothing happened. Jack kept his back pressed
against the locker, fingering his multitool and trying to imagine the
kind of jobs Uncle Virgil would have put Draycos to if he'd had the
chance.

Of course, convincing a noble K'da warrior to help him break into
bank vaults would have been a sizable job all by itself. Certainly
would have been an interesting conversation to sit in on.

Maybe he'd still get the chance. There was a lot of Uncle Virgil
in Uncle Virge, after all. And if there was one thing Uncle Virgil had
always loved, it was a challenge.

"There is a single item in here." Draycos's voice sounded muffled
and distant, yet at the same time oddly close. Was the sound
transmitting along Jack's back, perhaps? "It is a large cylindrical
container, perhaps half your height, with tubing and smaller square
boxes attached to its base."

Jack made a face. From that description, it could be practically
anything. "Any writing on it?" he asked. "Manufacturer, model
name—anything?"

"There are several groups of word-symbols," the near-far answer
came. "However, as I have said, I do not know how to read them."

There was another skin-slide, and out of the corner of his eye
Jack saw Draycos's head reappear on his shoulder. "However, I could
attempt to reproduce it for you, figure by figure," he offered.

Jack shook his head as he stepped away from the locker. "That
would take time. And it might still not tell us anything."

He lifted his multitool. "So. I guess we'll have to do this the
old-fashioned way."

After Uncle Virge's comment about breaking and entering, he
expected Draycos to object to the procedure. But the dragon remained
silent as Jack knelt down beside the lock. Maybe this
wasn't
something a noble K'da warrior wouldn't do.

Though only if necessary, of course.

As Jack had already noted, the lock was sturdy but not
complicated. He swiveled out one of the blades from his multi-tool, a
special gadget Uncle Virgil had spent hours building into one of the
tool's original screwdriver heads. This wouldn't take long at all.

He paused, frowning. There was something not quite right about the
lock mechanism, he realized suddenly. Not quite symmetric, actually. He
leaned closer for a better look, and it was then that he noticed the
extra piece of metal extending off the lock about a quarter of an inch
to the right. A piece that didn't quite blend in with the original
design.

"What is wrong?" Draycos asked, his head rising up from Jack's
shoulder.

"The lock's been wired," Jack told him, running his finger by the
extra metal strip, being careful not to touch it. "Something's been
added to the lock, with this piece of metal there to cover it. Ten to
one it's a trip-line."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if I spring the lock, someone's going to know."

"Interesting," Draycos murmured. "It is not part of the standard
lock mechanism?"

"Definitely not," Jack said, shaking his head. "In fact, I don't
think I've
ever
seen anything like this on a simple storage
locker. Usually if someone wants to protect something, there are better
ways to do it."

"Then why was it done?" Draycos asked.

"I'd think that would be obvious," Uncle Virge said tartly. "Even
to a noble K'da warrior. They want to know if anyone breaks in."

"But if they are afraid the object inside will be discovered, why
not simply remove it from the locker?" Draycos pointed out. "Why leave
it inside and then create a trap?"

Uncle Virge snorted. "You familiar with the word 'bait'?"

"I do not know that particular usage," Draycos said calmly. "But
from your tone I can deduce its meaning."

"I'm so glad," Uncle Virge growled. "Well, Jack. What now?"

"I don't know," Jack admitted, gazing at the lock. "I can't tell
how the trip-line is wired without a scanner and some better tools. And
without knowing that, I can't disarm it."

"You have the necessary equipment aboard the
Essenay?
"
Draycos asked.

"Sure," Jack grunted. "But I'd never get it in past customs. The
Vagran Colony really leans hard on thieves."

"So it's a stalemate." Uncle Virge sounded disgusted.

"Something like that," Jack said. "I guess that leaves us only one
option. We open it up, take a quick look, then head for the tall grass
before whoever's at the other end of the trip-line gets here."

He waited a moment, hoping one of the others would either try to
talk him out of it or have something better to suggest. But both
Draycos and Uncle Virge were silent. Taking a deep breath, he lifted
the multitool and set to work.

"Easy, lad," Uncle Virge murmured. "Remember your training."

Jack bit at his lip. Yes; remember his training. His training, and
his experience, and his methods.

So much for putting the past behind him.

Thirty seconds later, he had the lock sprung.

"Draycos, keep an ear out," he told the dragon as he lifted the
latch and pulled the door open. "Let's see what we've got here."

"Well?" Uncle Virge demanded.

"Just like Draycos described it," Jack said, eying the device as
he folded his multitool and put it away. "Let's see; there's a plate
attached near the bottom that says 'Hamker-Rovski 550.' That ring any
bells?"

"Well, well," Uncle Virge said thoughtfully. "It does indeed. A
Hamker-Rovski 550 is a low-temperature refrigeration unit."

Jack frowned. "You mean like a food freezer?"

"Colder than that, lad," Uncle Virge said. "Considerably colder."

Jack frowned harder. Then, suddenly, he got it. He got all of it.
"Well, well," he said, smiling tightly. "Or did someone just say that?"

"Yes," Uncle Virge said. "But it bears repeating."

"If you have a thought, please speak it," Draycos put in.

"What, the noble K'da warrior doesn't know everything?" Uncle
Virge taunted. "How surprising."

The dragon's head rose further out of Jack's shoulder. "I do not
claim to know everything," he said, his voice deep and clearly annoyed.

"Take it easy," Jack soothed him, closing the locker and heading
back toward the maze of boxes in the center of the warehouse. They'd
seen all they needed to, and it was time to make tracks out of here.
"Uncle Virge always likes to get places before everyone else. Just
ignore him."

The dragon head sank down a little. "Then explain."

"It's really pretty simple," Jack said. "I should have figured it
out sooner. I don't know how much chemistry you know, but there are
some substances that can go from solid to gas without becoming liquids
first. That means they evaporate without leaving any puddles."

"I am aware of that fact."

"Well, one of them happens to be carbon dioxide," Jack said.
"Which happens to be one of the waste gasses we exhale when we breathe."

Draycos's head lifted up. "Someone is coming," he said softly.
"Three beings. Perhaps the watchers."

"Terrific," Jack muttered, pausing at the edge of one of the
stacks and peering carefully around the corner. No one was visible, but
if he concentrated he could just hear the footsteps. "Can you tell
which direction they're coming from?"

"There," Draycos said, lifting his snout up and out of Jack's
jacket and swiveling his head to point back toward the tube area.

"Ha," Jack said, ducking back into the maze of boxes and heading
off at an angle. "Looks like they've outsmarted themselves. They
figured my ship would be in one of the closer pads, and I'd just walk
straight into their arms."

"You think they were waiting for you?" Draycos asked. "You
specifically, and not merely someone investigating the cargo
disappearance?"

"Who else would care about Jack being in trouble?" Uncle Virge
countered scornfully. "Watch yourself, lad. Your friends back there
reacted too fast to be any sort of cops I've ever known."

"Braxton Security, then?" Jack asked, picking a new direction
through the maze and taking another quick look around before heading
off.

"Who else?" Uncle Virge said. "Let me know when you're two minutes
away from the ship and I'll start the engines."

"No, leave them off," Jack said quickly. "Whoever they are,
they're not going to be stupid enough to miss a ship revving for a
liftoff."

"You're certainly not going to try to hide out in a grounded
ship," Uncle Virge pointed out.

"You got that right," Jack agreed, breaking into a jog. "We're
heading into the city."

"You're
what
? Jack, lad—"

"I'm closing down," Jack said, reaching up and pulling the comm
clip off his collar. "I'll talk to you later."

"Jack—"

Uncle Virge's protest was cut off as Jack shut off the clip. "Is
there danger in the city?" Draycos asked.

"Probably," Jack said, stuffing the clip into his pocket. "But not
as much as there is behind us. They getting any closer?"

He got five more steps before Draycos answered. "They are not
following," he said slowly. "I believe they are moving around the edges
of the stacks."

"Trying to cut us off," Jack grunted, picking up his pace. "Let's
see if we can beat them."

He broke into a flat-out run, hoping his pursuers were making too
much noise of their own to hear him. Once, as he rounded one of the
stacks, it occurred to him that barreling through a cargo maze infested
with heenas might not be the most brilliant thing he'd ever done in his
life. He would just have to hope that they'd learned not to mess with
the kid in the leather jacket.

The open area around the outer warehouse wall was deserted when he
finally emerged from the stacks. "Draycos?" he asked softly, peering
across the open area toward the wide doors where the main cargo
monorail tracks came into the warehouse. Outside the doors the ground
was well lit, with the lights of the city twinkling in the near
distance. As far as he could tell, there was no one out there.

"No one is moving nearby," the dragon said, flicking out his
tongue. "Nor do I smell anyone close at hand. This is perhaps our best
opportunity."

Jack made a face. And if no one was moving or breathing nearby,
but a whole bunch of them were waiting outside for him to show up?

Still, if they were, there wasn't a lot he could do about it. Like
their escape from Draycos's wrecked ship, all he could do was go for it
and hope for the best. "Right," he muttered. "Here goes."

He had been mildly surprised back on Iota Klestis when more of the
Brummga's friends hadn't been ready to pounce as he ran for the
Essenay
.
He was even more surprised that no one was lurking in the shadows here
as he crossed the graytop and ducked through the cargo entrance.

Once, as he ran across the lighted ground outside he thought he
heard a shout behind him. But the sound wasn't repeated, and no one
shot at him, and a minute later he was outside the range of the lights
and into the comforting gloom of night.

Not that darkness alone was going to give him much safety.
Darkness and distance, that was the combination he wanted. He passed
the fence at the edge of the spaceport and turned down one of the
streets heading into the city.

They'd made it six blocks, and Jack had changed streets twice,
when Draycos spoke again. "You are saying the box contained nothing
except solidified carbon dioxide?"

"You got it," Jack confirmed, pausing a moment to look around. The
last turn had put him on a narrow, winding street lined with
closely-packed two- and three-story buildings. A few of the buildings
had balconies, which the residents seemed to use mostly for storing
potted plants. The street itself wasn't very well lit, and the few
pedestrians he could see walking along in the distance were too shadowy
for him to make out even what species they were.

"I do not understand the purpose."

"You said it yourself, back on the ship," Jack reminded him,
continuing down the street. A delicate aroma was drifting through the
air from somewhere, reminding him of fresh-baked cinnamon bread.
"Someone wanted to frame me. The dry ice—"