Dragon and Thief

Chapter 26

"More tea, dear?" Mrs. Braxton asked, holding the teapot poised over Jack's cup.

"Um," Jack said, remembering just in time that it wasn't polite to talk with your mouth full of food and possibly spray crumbs over everything. He shook his head instead, and concentrated on chewing. High tea, Mrs. Braxton had called this: a snack of hot tea and some kind of biscuit things she'd called scones. A weird name, but they tasted pretty good.

"Another scone, then?" she asked.

Again he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really ought to get going," he told her as he cleared his mouth enough to talk. "I've still got to pack, and we're due into Shotti Station pretty soon."

Actually, he had nothing to pack except the clothing he'd bought when he first came aboard the Star of Wonder. But he felt terribly uncomfortable here in Braxton's suite, and was anxious to get away.

Not that Braxton and his wife weren't being nice to him. The problem was, they were being too nice. Jack wasn't used to this kind of treatment, and three hours of it were just about all he could stand.

"I don't like leaving you here all alone like this," Mrs. Braxton said, setting the teapot down again. "Your uncle could be delayed, after all."

"No, it's okay," Jack said. "Really. If Uncle Virge said he'll meet me here, he will."

"Perhaps," Mrs. Braxton said, sounding doubtful. "Still, you've hardly even let us thank you for what you did. And now here you are running off again."

"The fuel credits Mr. Braxton gave me are all I need," Jack assured her, taking a sip of his tea. With enough sugar in it, this stuff was pretty good, too. "Anyway, I didn't do all that much."

"Come now," Mrs. Braxton said, lifting her eyebrows politely. "Don't be modest. You saved our lives and exposed a dangerous conspiracy within our company. Either of those alone would be worth far more than a few paltry fueling credits. Are you sure there isn't anything else we can do for you?"

You want to take a K'da warrior off my hands? Jack thought. But he just shook his head. "No, thanks," he said instead. "If Mr. Braxton can get that murder charge cleared away, we'll call it even."

"Then even it is," Braxton announced, coming in through one of the archways. "I've just spoken with the Vagran Police. It turns out that they came up with a witness to the murders. They showed him your reconstruction of how everyone was standing, and he confirmed that Raven was the one who fired the shots."

"That's good," Jack said, frowning. "What about Raven's photo? You did send a photo, didn't you?"

Braxton shrugged. "The witness was a Compfrin," he said. "They're not very good at picking out one human face from another. But the police say his testimony will be good enough."

Jack nodded. It wouldn't have been good enough for most of the police he and Uncle Virgil had locked horns with in the past, he knew. But on the other hand, if no one could identify Raven as the murderer, they couldn't very well finger him, either. It probably balanced out.

Especially with someone like Cornelius Braxton leaning on his end of the balance.

"We have an alert out for the Advocatus Diaboli, too," Braxton went on. "So far, no word."

"Do you suppose he's made a run for it?" Mrs. Braxton asked.

"I don't see him panicking this quickly," Braxton said. "Unless Raven failed to make a regular report, anyway. No, he's probably sitting off somewhere, rubbing his hands in anticipation of my death."

"Neverlin always did like to rub his hands together," Mrs. Braxton commented thoughtfully. "I never cared much for that."

"I've had a check made of our personnel files," Braxton said, pulling out one of the other chairs at the table and sitting down. "You're sure it was a Brummga you saw with Raven?"

"They're a little hard to miss," Jack reminded him.

"You're right about that," Braxton said, nodding. "Problem is, we don't have any Brummgas on our payroll, except for those working the plant on their home world. Certainly no one in a guard or security or executive assistant position.

"Perhaps Mr. Neverlin has picked up some allies," Mrs. Braxton suggested.

Jack thought back to the Brummga he'd run into aboard the wrecked Havenseeker. "Or else someone's picked him up as an ally," he murmured.

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Braxton asked.

Jack shook his head. Sitting here like old friends or not, he still wasn't about to tell Braxton what he knew about the Iota Klestis ambush. Not yet, anyway. "Nothing," he said. "Just rambling."

Braxton reached over to the serving tray and picked up the cylinder Jack had set down there. "So this is the original?" he said, hefting it in his hand.

"Yes, sir," Jack said. "It's the one I got out of the purser's safe, anyway."

"You should probably mark it somehow, Neely," Mrs. Braxton said. "We wouldn't want to mix it up with the other one."

"I already did that," Jack told them. "That mark on the bottom. See?"

"Oh, yes," Braxton said, turning it over and peering at the bottom. "Yes. Very good. And you said you'll send that EvGa fingerprint data to me?"

"As soon as Uncle Virge gets here with the ship," Jack promised. "Those prints we got off the Vagran storage locker should help you pick out the rest of Neverlin's gang."

"Or at least some of them," Mrs. Braxton said.

"Either way, it will be useful," Braxton agreed. "Thank you again."

"No problem," Jack said, pushing back his chair and standing up. Just in time, he remembered to wipe his hands and mouth on the napkin beside his plate. "Well, unless there's something else, I'd better be going. Thanks for the hospitality."

"Thank you for our lives," Braxton said quietly, standing up beside him. Before Jack could realize what he was doing, the man reached out and shook his hand. "And we still owe you, Jack, whether you acknowledge that or not. If and when we can balance the scales, just let us know."

"I will," Jack promised. "Thanks for the tea and scones."

He was past the bodyguards and slogging his way through the luxury corridor's thick carpeting before he spoke again. "So tell me something," he said. "Was there any special reason why you knocked out Vance and Myers but broke Raven's neck?"

"Of course," Draycos answered from his shoulder. "Raven committed two intentional murders on Vagran. The punishment for such a crime is death. As a K'da warrior, it was both my right and my duty to pass judgment."

"Yeah, well, in the future try to sit on your sense of justice, okay?" Jack said. "You're in the Orion Arm now, and the cops here don't like people taking the law into their own hands."

"I understand," Draycos said. "It is clear that I still have a great deal to learn about your society. What will we do now?"

Jack shrugged. Uncle Virge wasn't going to be happy with this. But fair was fair. "We made a deal," he reminded the dragon. "You helped me with my problem. Now it's my turn to help you with yours. Let's go find out who hit your people."

"You are certain you are willing?" Draycos asked. "It may be a difficult path we will walk. Even if Braxton himself is not involved in the plot against my people, we are still facing one of his strongest lieutenants."

"Maybe," Jack said. "But I think Neverlin will have his hands pretty full for awhile keeping his head down. That ought to give us a little breathing space."

"Perhaps," Draycos said. "It is interesting, is it not, that people so often turn out to be different than we expect."

Jack snorted. "Don't fool yourself, kiddo. Braxton is still a hard-nosed businessman who'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. We're just lucky that he happens to be on our side at the moment."

"That may indeed prove helpful," Draycos conceded. "Yet there will still be many other dangers facing us along the way."

Jack smiled. "What, me and my pet dragon? Bring 'em on."

The top of Draycos's head rose up from his shoulder to press against his shirt. "I am a poet-warrior of the K'da," he said, sounding offended. "I am not a pet dragon."

"Sure, sure," Jack soothed, patting him on his crest. "I know. Now keep your head down."

"I've sent word to all Braxton Universis plants and facilities, sir," Harper said, consulting his computer. "Ditto to the Internes Police, and I'm working on the various alien law enforcement bureaus. We should have the whole Orion Arm alerted within a few more days."

"Good," Braxton said, turning the cylinder over again in his hand and gazing at the curious design that had been scratched in the bottom. "When you're finished with that, call Anderson and have him start a full rundown on Jack Morgan. I want his history, his current occupation, family, friends—everything. Same goes for this Uncle Virge he mentioned."

"Yes, sir," Harper said, making a note.

"And after that, contact Chu and have him send a team to meet us on Parsonia," Braxton said. "I want to know what this symbol is that Jack carved here."

He handed the cylinder to his wife. "And," he added, "exactly what kind of tool he used to make it."