Timothy Zahn - Dragonback 2 - Dragon and Soldier

Dragon and Soldier

Timothy Zahn

Dragon and Soldier

The Second Dragonback Adventure

For Sable—who has taught me what it means to be a symbiont

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Dragon and Soldier

Chapter 1

The screams of the dying K'da and Shontine in the Havenseeker's engine room were growing louder.

Draycos tried to shut out the sounds—tried to cover his pointed ears with his paws. But nothing

helped.

He could see them now, back there in the engine room. Which was odd, because Draycos himself

was up in the Havenseeker's control complex, all the way at the other end of the ship. He could see

outside through the navigation bubble as the unfamiliar enemy ships sent the all too familiar violet

beams of the Death twisting and sweeping across the Havenseeker's hull. The Death was coming

closer to him... closer... closer...

With a jerk that sent his claws scratching across the soft plastic coating of the floor beneath him,

Draycos woke up.

"Bad dream?" a soft voice came from across the room.

Draycos blinked his eyes, clearing away the last images of the nightmare. The room was mostly

dark, but there was enough light for him to see the narrow cot built into the wall at the other end of

the small cabin. His new companion, Jack Morgan, was propped up on one elbow, his hair sticking

out in a dozen different directions. "Yes," Draycos told him. "I apologize for waking you."

" 'S okay," Jack said, yawning. He ran a hand through his hair without making any noticeable

improvement in the mess. "I'm just glad you weren't on my back when you started twitching. What

was it this time?"

"The same," Draycos said, the tip of his tail curving into a K'da frown. Odd; he had started out the

sleep period pressed against Jack's back in his two-dimensional form. When had he jumped off and

become fully three-dimensional again? During the terrible dream? "I saw again the destruction of our

advance team."

"I don't suppose you happened to notice any markings on those Djinn-90 pursuit fighters this time,"

Uncle Virge put in.

Draycos glared over at the monitor camera. Uncle Virge was the Essenay's computer, with an

artificial personality designed by Jack's late Uncle Virgil. A personality, Draycos had discovered,

that often seemed to go out of its way to be irritating. "No, I did not see any markings," he told the

computer stiffly. "I saw no markings when they first attacked our ships. I do not expect to see any

now that I am merely dreaming of them, either."

"Okay, okay, keep your scales on," Uncle Virge said in a huffy tone. "You're the one who's so hot to

track down these pirates or smugglers or whoever."

"They were mercenaries," Draycos said firmly. "Military units of some sort. I have told you that

before."

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Dragon and Soldier

"Yeah," Uncle Virge said. "Whatever."

"And it's not just Draycos who wants to find them, Uncle Virge," Jack said. "I do, too."

"Then let's get serious about it," Uncle Virge said. "Face it, Jack lad; we simply haven't got the

resources for this kind of nickel-in-Nevada search. Not even with our noble K'da poet-warrior

standing brave and true at our side. Watching us do all the work."

"We have only just begun our task," Draycos reminded him, ignoring the implied insult. Uncle Virge

had made it abundantly clear that he didn't think much of the K'da warrior ethic and its strict

emphasis on doing what was right, whatever such actions might cost. He considered such behavior to

be impractical, a waste of effort, and fundamentally stupid.

"We've been chasing data for ten days and have come up dry and poor each time," Uncle Virge

countered. "I vote we chuck the whole thing and drop it into StarForce's lap where it belongs."

"We cannot do that," Draycos insisted. "Until we know who was responsible for the attack, I cannot

risk revealing myself to anyone else. The lives of my people depend on it."

"Oh, come on," Uncle Virge said, and Draycos could almost see a scowling human face behind that

voice. "It wasn't StarForce that attacked your ships. The Internos government doesn't go in for

genocide."

"Yet someone in StarForce or the Internos may have made a private arrangement without official

consent," Draycos pointed out. "I cannot take that risk. We must do this ourselves."

"And what if we can't?" Uncle Virge shot back. "In case you hadn't noticed, friend, the Orion Arm

covers a lot of territory. We are one very small frog in one very big pond. Maybe the whole thing

makes for a great heroic poem, but we could search from here till geepsday and still not come up

with anything."

"What we need is a break," Jack muttered. "Just one. Something to point us in the right direction."

"Don't you think I want that, too, lad?" Uncle Virge asked, his tone suddenly turning earnest and

soothing.

Draycos felt his crest stiffen with frustration. In point of fact, Uncle Virge didn't want a break. Uncle

Virge wanted Jack to turn his back on Draycos, and on the millions of K'da and Shontine refugees

who were even now fleeing to the Orion Arm from the threat of the Valahgua and their unstoppable

Death weapon.

Uncle Virge, in short, wanted Jack Morgan to go back to the simple day-to-day business of looking

out for Jack Morgan.

But he didn't dare point that out. Jack's Uncle Virgil had been a criminal, a con artist and thief, a man

who had spent his entire life thinking only of himself. He'd programmed that same self-centered

viewpoint into his computerized alter ego before he'd died, and he'd done his best to hammer it into

Jack, as well.

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Dragon and Soldier

Jack had a good heart. Draycos could tell that much. But the boy was only fourteen, and this was an

awesome task that Draycos had laid before him.

And even a good heart required training and discipline. Draycos had had only a month to work with

him, while Uncle Virgil and the computer had had the past eleven years. If Draycos pushed too hard,

the boy might well back away onto the path of long habit.

Besides which, down deep, Draycos had to concede that Uncle Virge wasn't being entirely unfair.

With the lives of his people at stake, Draycos perhaps was pushing a little too hard.

But what else could he do?

"I know you want this to work, Draycos," Jack said, running his fingers through his hair again, still

without improving the mess. "But face it. This approach just isn't working."

"I agree," Uncle Virge said. "And frankly, I can't see how it ever will. There are just too many Djinn-

90s flying around the Orion Arm for us to hunt down the records of all of them. More to the point,

there are too many that have changed hands under, shall we way, unofficial circumstances. No

matter how many manufacturing records or registration listings we dig up, we still won't have them

all."

"Then we need a different approach," Jack concluded. "Draycos, you seem convinced they were

mercenaries. How come?"

"I saw them function in battle," Draycos reminded him, the tip of his tail making slow circles as he

studied Jack's face in the dim light. The boy's expression was tense, as if he was screwing up his

courage toward an unpleasant decision he didn't want to make.

But if that decision was to back away, this was an odd way of leading up to it. "Twice, in fact, both

in their attack on our ships and later during our escape from the planet," he went on. "Their

maneuvering and tactics were quite professional."

"Doesn't mean they're necessarily soldiers for hire," Uncle Virge argued, his voice gone suddenly

cautious. Perhaps he'd picked up on Jack's expression, too. "Maybe they're someone's official

military. Maybe some planet has made a deal with your Valahgua enemies."

"An official military would have had backup forces ready," Draycos pointed out. "Our escape would

have been far more difficult than it was."

Uncle Virge sniffed. "So maybe they're a stupid military. What's your point, Jack lad?"

"My point is that mercenary groups probably keep close tabs on each other," Jack said slowly.

"Including what kinds of pursuit fighters all the other guys have. You think?"

"I suppose," Uncle Virge said. "But I can tell you right now that getting hold of encrypted mercenary

files is going to be a lot trickier than pulling up Djinnrabi Aerospace Corporation manufacturing

records. I thought we were trying to make this job easier, not harder."

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Dragon and Soldier

"We're trying to make it work any way we can," Jack said. He paused, and Draycos could see him

brace himself. "And you're right. The only way to get merc records will be from the inside."

"You must be joking," Uncle Virge said, his voice sounding like he'd suddenly been hit with a small

tree. "Come on, Jack lad. Jump up and say 'surprise,' and let's get on with our plans."

"What, you think I can't do it?" Jack snapped. "Fourteen-year-old kids are indentured to mercenary

groups all the time."

"And you know what happens to them?" Uncle Virge countered harshly. "They get sent off to war."

Jack seemed to shrink a little in his nightshirt. "I'll be all right," he said, sounding like he was trying

to convince himself of that. "There aren't any big wars going on anywhere right now."

"Mercenaries don't hire teenagers just to polish their boots," Uncle Virge insisted. "And you can get

just as dead from a little war as you can from a big one."

"I'll be all right." Jack peered across the cabin at Draycos. "Draycos? You're a soldier. You tell him."

"Yes, tell him, Draycos," Uncle Virge demanded, an almost frantic undertone to his voice now.

Small wonder: as a computer, even a computer that controlled the entire ship, he had no physical

power to make Jack do anything he didn't want to do. All Uncle Virge could do was persuade.

And unless Draycos was misjudging Jack's expression, the boy's mind was already made up. Not

enthusiastically, but definitely made up. "Tell him what it takes to be a soldier," Uncle Virge went

on. "Tell him how old you were when you went into your first battle. Tell him how many friends

you've seen die."

"In many ways, Uncle Virge is right, Jack," Draycos said. "If it were for anything less important I

would agree that this was too dangerous for you. But."

"Don't say it," Uncle Virge warned. "Draycos, don't say it."

"I am sorry, but I must," Draycos said. "The fate of the K'da and Shontine races hang by the edge of

a single torn scale. With only five months remaining until they arrive, we have no choice but to take

chances."

"Maybe you have to take chances," Uncle Virge snapped. "But why does Jack have to?"

"Because I promised to help him," Jack said.

"And I will be with him the whole way," Draycos added.

"Wonderful," Uncle Virge said sarcastically. "A golden dragon plastered flat across his back. That

gives me such confidence."

"Oh, stop being melodramatic," Jack scolded. "It's not like I'm making a career of this. I'll get in,

scam their computer and find their records on their competitors, and get back out. Piece of fudge

cake."

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Dragon and Soldier

"Unless they catch you," Uncle Virge said. "You ever think of that?"

"I'll be fine," Jack insisted. "Anyway, like Draycos says, he'll be with me the whole way."

Uncle Virge didn't answer. "So that's settled," Jack said, flopping back flat onto the cot again. "If you

want to be helpful, you can find us a good merc group to try. Something not too big, but with jobs all

across the Orion Arm. We don't want someone who just works locally. And make sure it's someone

who hires a lot of kids my age—"

"And isn't too fussy about who they take," Uncle Virge cut him off grudgingly. "Yes, yes, I know

what to look for."

"And when you find one, put us on ECHO for their nearest recruitment center," Jack added. "No

point in wasting time."

"No, of course not," Uncle Virge muttered. "Good night, Jack lad."

Jack pushed himself up off the cot again. "Draycos, you getting back aboard? You're going to need

to do it sometime before morning anyway."

Draycos focused on the clock built into the wall beside Jack's cot. Yes; even if he had broken contact

with the boy just before his dream began, he would still come close to his limit before the sleep

period was over. A K'da could only go six hours before he needed to return to two-dimensional form

against a host's body. If he stayed away longer than that, he would still become two-dimensional,

and ripple away into death.

But he had time. And his body always gave him plenty of warning. "I will join you later," he

decided, standing up and stretching all four legs. "I believe I will go watch Uncle Virge work

through the mercenary information."

"Going to be some awfully big words there," Uncle Virge warned sourly. "You may not be up to

third-grade reading level yet."

"I can use the practice," Draycos assured him calmly. After only ten days of study, he had already

made good headway in learning to read the humans' written language. His progress had pleased him,

amazed Jack, and no doubt irritated Uncle Virge. A worthwhile accomplishment on all three counts.

"Rest well, Jack," he added as he headed across the cabin.

"Sure," Jack said, already starting to sound sleepy again. "By the way, how old were you when you

were in your first battle?"

Draycos paused in the doorway. "I was younger than you," he said quietly, turning his long neck to

look around behind him. "And the K'da and Shontine lost that battle."

"Younger than me," Jack repeated, his voice sounding odd. "You had loose rules, didn't you?"

"We were fighting for our survival," Draycos reminded him. "We still are."

Jack didn't say anything. For a wonder, neither did Uncle Virge.

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Dragon and Soldier

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Dragon and Soldier

Chapter 2

The planet Carrion was, in Jack's opinion, a very appropriately named world.

Or so it seemed as he paid the taxi driver and joined the stream of pedestrians hurrying along the

wide sidewalks. Even just glancing around, he could spot the uniforms of a half dozen different

mercenary groups among the crowds. The men and women inside the uniforms were rough-looking

types, all of them with small areas of empty space around them as they strode along. Like arrogant

vultures gathered to feed on their prey, he thought darkly, with the ordinary citizens trying to keep as

far away from them as possible.

Or maybe he was imagining the citizens' reaction. Maybe he was just projecting his own feelings

onto the people around him.

What in the world was he doing here, anyway?

"Is that it ahead?" Draycos murmured from his right shoulder.

Jack made a face as he focused on the plain white building half a block down the street ahead of

them. "That's it," he confirmed. "The main Carrion recruitment office of the Whinyard's Edge."

"A whinyard was a Scottish name for a dagger or short sword," Uncle Virge put in from the comm

clip fastened to Jack's left collar. "It dates back to—"

"Thank you, Professor," Jack cut him off. The last thing he was in the mood for right now was a

history lesson. "Unless you've got something useful to say, everyone just shut up. Okay?"

"Have the young people from the spaceport arrived yet?" Draycos asked.

"I don't see them," Jack said, craning his neck to try to look over the crowd and slowing down a

little. He didn't want to reach the recruitment office before the group he and Draycos had spotted

being gathered together at the spaceport. The idea was to blend in with them when they went in to

sign their enlistment papers, not to be the one leading the charge. "They were probably getting them

here by bus. Busses always take longer than cabs."

"A bus also implies they're expected, Jack lad," Uncle Virge warned. "That means the Whinyard's

Edge will know how many of them there are supposed to be."

"Maybe," Jack said. "I can handle that."

"It's not too late to back out," Uncle Virge went on. "We could try to put together enough money to

simply buy the information we need from them."

"And if they refuse, it'll just put them on their guard," Jack pointed out. "Hang on a second."

Ahead, a sleek bus pulled to the curb in front of the white building. "Okay, they're here," Jack

confirmed as a boy his age got rather hesitantly off the bus. "I'm shutting down," he added, reaching

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Dragon and Soldier

for the comm clip. "Wish me luck."

There was an electronic sigh. "Good luck," Uncle Virge said.

Jack clicked off the clip, unfastened it, and slipped it into his pocket. The first kids off the bus had

gathered into a little group by the curb, hanging back instead of going directly into the building.

Either they were nervous, or else they were waiting for someone who was still behind them.

"You have not yet explained this indenture process," Draycos said from his shoulder.

"It's sort of like an apprenticeship," Jack said. An adult was getting off now, a woman wearing a

Whinyard's Edge uniform. Not only were they expected, but the mercenaries had even sent a

babysitter to the spaceport to herd them in. "Parents hire their kids out to different merc groups,

usually for two to five years."

"And what do they receive in exchange?"

"Cash," Jack told him. "Lots of it."

"It is a form of slavery," Draycos declared, his voice dark. "Your people permit this?"

"Not exactly," Jack said. The woman was striding toward the white building, the kids following like

scared but obedient ducklings. This was probably the first time most of them had ever been away

from home, he suspected. "The Internos government officially condemns it, but there are plenty of

human worlds that sort of wink at the whole thing. Mostly the poorer ones where the people don't

have any other way to make a living."

"There are always other ways," Draycos insisted. "This is not the behavior of a civilized society."

"No, of course not," Jack soothed. Uncivilized this, uncivilized that—the dragon needed to lighten

up a little. Things were the way they were; and like it or not, there wasn't a thing you could do about

it.

The universe was a giant mulching machine, Uncle Virgil had often said. If you were smart, you

rolled with the gears. If you weren't, you got chewed up by them.

"And there are so very many of them," Draycos murmured, obviously still brooding about it.

"Which is what we want, remember?" Jack reminded him patiently. "Uncle Virge said this was one

of only a couple of groups who were hiring lots of kids right now. The more they've got coming in,

the easier it'll be for me to slip in and get lost in the crowd."

"I understand the reasoning," Draycos said, a bit tartly. "That does not mean I have to enjoy my part

in this."

The last kid had gotten off the bus. "Okay," Jack muttered, taking a deep breath and picking up his

pace. "Nice and easy. Here we go."

And as the last boy in line walked through the white building's door, Jack closed the gap and stepped

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in right behind him.

He found himself in a large reception room with a pair of ornate desks at the far end beneath a huge

wood carving of the Whinyard's Edge insignia. The woman who had escorted the teens in from the

bus was seated at one of the desks, while an older gray-haired man sat at the other.

Off to either side of the main room, near where Jack had entered, were a pair of unmarked doorways.

One of the doors was slightly ajar, and through it Jack caught a glimpse of the simple desk and filing

cabinets of a secretarial work station. On the far back wall, behind the fancy desks and directly

beneath the wooden insignia, was a door with a picture of a dagger painted on it and what looked

like a motto stenciled around its edge.

The number of teens in the reception room was a surprise. Even huddled together like sheep the way

they were, they filled the room all the way to the walls. The bus Jack had seen pull up must have

been only the last of a group of them, possibly bringing in new recruits from several different parts

of the spaceport. Apparently, the Whinyard's Edge was holding an even bigger recruitment drive

than he'd realized.

Briefly, his mind flicked back to his confident statement to Uncle Virge that there were no major

wars going on anywhere. He hoped he hadn't been wrong about that.

"Over there," Draycos murmured, just loud enough for Jack to hear over the soft buzz of

conversation. The dragon's snout rose slightly from Jack's upper chest beneath his shirt, pointing to

the left. "That boy has papers."

"Uh-huh," Jack said. More than just papers: it was an official looking document with a blue-paper

backing sheet. A document that Jack himself didn't have.

This was not good.

Carefully, casually, he eased through the crowd and came up behind the boy. "Some place, huh?" he

commented.

"Terrific," the other said, his voice trembling slightly. First time away from home, all right.

"Hey, buck up," Jack said, trying for a cheerfully encouraging tone he suddenly wasn't feeling

anymore. The paper the boy was holding was an official indenture agreement.

On an official Whinyard's Edge form. With an official Whinyard's Edge signature on the bottom.

And suddenly Jack's plan of simply talking his way inside as part of the group wasn't looking so hot

anymore.

"Yeah, right," the boy said. "Just like summer camp. How long you in for?"

"Probably the same as you," Jack improvised, searching the form for the correct number. There was

a small bit of weight at his collarbone as Draycos lifted an eye up to look over the boy's shoulder.

"Two years, right?"

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Timothy Zahn - Dragonback 2 - Dragon and Soldier

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