Dragon and Judge

CHAPTER 18

The next morning, Alison had just finished dressing when Dumbarton and Mrishpaw arrived at her door. "They're ready for you," Dumbarton said.

"What, no breakfast?" Alison asked.

"They've got something there," Dumbarton said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as the Brummga scooped up her bag of disguised burglar equipment. "Come on, come on—they're waiting."

They went back upstairs, across the main foyer, and up a wide staircase to a second-floor balcony. From there they walked down a nicely furnished corridor, then up another set of stairs, and finally to a domed chamber the size of a small conference room, only much more nicely furnished.

As Dumbarton had said, Neverlin and Frost were waiting for her. They were seated in comfortable chairs beside a line of five safes, looking rather like spectators at some sporting event. Along the side wall a small breakfast buffet had been laid out, with both hot and cold food. The aromas rising from it made Alison's stomach growl.

And over in the far corner, seated in a chair that looked rather like a throne, was an old, wrinkled, glowering Brummga.

"Morning, Kayna," Frost greeted her with a sort of gruff politeness. "Ready to start?"

"As soon as I've eaten something," Alison told him, nodding over at the old Brummga. "Who's your friend?"

An instant later, a hard blow across her shoulder blades sent her sprawling flat onto the thick carpet. "Hey!" she yelped, rolling back up into a sitting position and glaring up at the two mercenaries behind her. "What was that—?"

She broke off, throwing herself into a diving roll that barely managed to get her out of the way as Mrishpaw swiped at her again.

"Mrishpaw—stand down!" Frost snapped.

But the other ignored him. Taking a long step toward Alison, he raised his hand for another try. "Patri, call him off," Neverlin said quietly. "We need her alive and unharmed."

There was no order that Alison could hear. But to her relief, Mrishpaw jerked to a halt. Fora moment he glowered down at her, then stepped back to Dumbarton's side. Breathing hard, Alison turned her head to look at the old Brummga.

He was gazing back at her from his throne, his face expressionless. "Does it have learned respect?" he rumbled.

Alison took a careful breath. "I humbly crave the pardon of the Patri Chookoock," she said.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Frost stir a little at the subtle edge of sarcasm beneath the words. Fortunately, the Patri Chookoock didn't seem to hear it. "You may can stand," he said.

"Thank you." Keeping a wary eye on Mrishpaw, Alison got her feet under her and stood up. Jack had told her about his casual mistreatment here at the Chookoock estate. She should have been ready for some of the same.

"Now; shall we try it again?" Neverlin asked. "Are you ready to begin?"

Alison glanced sideways at the Patri. "I will begin at your pleasure," she said. "May I humbly suggest that I'll do better if I'm allowed to eat first?"

"You may indeed so suggest." Neverlin turned to the Patri. "Patri?"

"It were is better," the Patri rumbled. "Allow it to eat."

Neverlin gestured to the buffet. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," Alison said, bowing to each of the three in turn before crossing over to the food. It irritated her no end to have to play this kind of humility game, especially in front of a creature who made his money buying and selling living beings.

But the very first thing her father had taught her was not to let emotion get in the way of the job. If it took a little groveling to get what she wanted out of these people, she could handle that.

She ate a quick breakfast, making sure to thank the Patri twice more between bites, and then set to work.

The safes were tricky, though not quite as bad as the ones she'd opened aboard ship, and it took the entire day to get them open. But by the time the sun was sinking behind the white wall, even Neverlin was convinced. "Excellent," he said as he peered into the last of the empty safes and then closed the door again. "You were right, Colonel—she does seem to have some talent in this area."

"Or at least some very good equipment," Frost said.

"Either serves our purposes." Neverlin turned to the old Brummga. "Patri?"

For a long moment the Patri continued to stare at Alison, as he'd done pretty much nonstop the entire day. "It may try."

"Excellent," Neverlin said. "Colonel?"

Frost gestured, and Dumbarton and Mrishpaw detached themselves from a section of the wall near the door. "Escort her back to her room," he ordered them. "Instruct the slaves to give her whatever she wants for dinner." He shifted his attention to Alison. "You'll start first thing in the morning," he added. "I suggest you go to bed early and get yourself a good night's sleep."

His eyes narrowed in silent warning. "You'll need it."

With their entire day having been spent in the testing room, Taneem hadn't had a chance to eat anything since the previous evening. Alison made sure to order a large dinner, then left the K'da hiding under the bed while she had herself a quick bath to soothe away her tension.

She was dried and dressed by the time the meal arrived, brought in again by Shoofteelee. The young Wistawk was polite enough, but there was none of the simmering hope and enthusiasm he'd shown the previous evening. He accepted her thanks for the food, told her he'd overheard nothing new from Neverlin or Frost, and left.

After they'd eaten—with Taneem reluctantly but gratefully taking most of the food—Alison settled down for that good night's sleep Neverlin had recommended.

She'd been asleep just over two hours when a sudden hissing roar in her ear jerked her awake.

"What is it?" Taneem whispered anxiously.

"It's all right," Alison whispered back, forcing her muscles to relax. Ever since Neverlin had taken Virgil Morgan's shoulder bag from her she'd been waiting for him to open it. She'd therefore gone to bed each of the past two nights with the receiver from the bugged picture nestled in her ear.

Apparently, the moment had come.

The brief roar of paper rubbing against paper faded away, to be replaced by the sound of familiar human voices. "—know what you expect to find in there," Frost was saying. "Or why you even care about Morgan anymore. We've got the girl, and she's at least as good as he is."

"The question is whether we have her, or whether she has us," Neverlin said pointedly. "I don't like the fact that we can't pull up a single clue as to who she really is."

"Which argues that she's exactly what she claims to be," Frost countered. "Only an especially good professional thief would be able to keep her data and stats out of the system."

There was a tickling on Alison's neck as Taneem slid around her skin, angling for a spot where she could hear better. She ended up with her triangular dragon's head stretched partway across Alison's own face, her ear just below the receiver.

"Maybe," Neverlin said. "Well, well, well."

"What is it?" Frost asked.

"It seems our master safecracker Virgil Morgan has been thinking about changing specialties."

"To what?"

There was a faint crinkling of paper. "To blackmail."

"Yes, I saw those pictures," Frost said. "I couldn't quite make out what was happening."

"Obviously, neither could Morgan," Neverlin said. "Or else he was smart enough to know the police wouldn't be able to figure them out either. I wonder where he got them."

"What are they?" Frost asked.

"Pictures placing me at a little problem we had a few years back on—well, as a matter of fact, right there on Semaline," Neverlin said. There was another shuffling of papers. "All these other papers are from the same thing. Interesting."

"Just how little was this problem?" Frost asked. "Specifically, can Morgan call the cops down on us?"

"The cops would first have to find us," Neverlin said. "Assuming you hid the Advocatus Diaboli properly that's not likely to happen. Besides"—there was a rustling of papers—"we've got all his evidence."

"Unless he has more."

"Unlikely," Neverlin said. "It's clear that he's been adding to his collection over the years. No, I think everything's probably here in this one nice neat package."

Alison nodded to herself. So that was the reason for the Essenay's occasional visits to Semaline. Jack's uncle hadn't been taking money out of the lockbox, as Jack had thought. He'd instead been putting new blackmail material in.

"And if he has copies?" Frost persisted.

"I suppose that's possible," Neverlin conceded, a hint of doubt creeping into his tone. "Though these are definitely the originals."

"You'd better hope so," Frost warned. "Because the fact that after eleven years a Judge-Paladin has suddenly shown up and tripped your alarms ought to make you pause for thought."

"I suppose you're right," Neverlin said in a voice that sent a shiver up Alison's back. "There's no point in taking chances, especially not now. The next time Bolo checks in, I'll order him to wreck the mine."

"Will that be enough?" Frost asked.

"It'll bury any evidence of motive," Neverlin said. "That, plus the fact that Morgan doesn't have his original documents anymore ought to do it."

"I meant do you think you should also do something about the Judge-Paladin," Frost said. "Braxton's making enough noise out there without the Judge-Paladins' Office letting itself in on the act."

"I suppose you're right there, too," Neverlin conceded. "And it's not like Bolo hasn't killed a Judge-Paladin before. He can handle the job."

There was another hiss of papers sliding over each other. "Meanwhile, we have a busy day tomorrow," Neverlin's voice continued, sounding more distant. Apparently, he'd put the papers back into the shoulder bag. "I think I'll check once more on the girl's record search, then get to bed."

"Good idea," Frost said, and there was a subtle double creaking of leather as both men stood up. "Because I've seen her before," he added, his voice fading away. "I know I have."

"You'd better figure out where," Neverlin warned, his voice fading the same way. "And fast."

There was the sound of a door closing, and then silence.

Alison waited another minute to make sure they weren't coming back. Then, grimacing, she pulled the receiver from her ear. "You get all that?" she whispered.

"Yes," Taneem said, sliding back to her usual place across Alison's back, legs, and arms. "This sounds very bad."

"It'll be all right," Alison said, forcing a confidence she didn't especially feel. So far Neverlin seemed to be concentrating his search on Internos and alien databases, official as well as criminal. If he stayed with those, she should be fine.

But if it occurred to Frost to dig into the Malison Ring's own database . . .

"What was that?" Taneem whispered suddenly.

Alison froze. Straining her ears, she could just make out a faint sound that might possibly be distant human speech. Someone coming down the hallway toward their room?

And then suddenly she understood. Mouthing a silent curse at her own stupidity, she jammed the receiver back into her ear.

It was indeed where the voice was coming from. To her dismay, though, while the sound became louder it didn't become any more understandable. Only random and disconnected syllables seemed to be getting through the soft but persistent hiss of background noise.

There wasn't even enough for her to identify the voice, though she was pretty sure it wasn't Frost or Neverlin. She turned her head back and forth, trying to adjust the receiver's position for better reception. But nothing seemed to help.

"It's Uncle Virge," Taneem said abruptly.

Alison frowned, straining her ears even harder. The K'da was right, she realized abruptly.

Which meant the Essenay was somewhere nearby, probably just outside the Chookoock family grounds. "Can you understand him?" she whispered.

"No," Taneem whispered back. "It's too faint. Too . . ."

"Too broken," Alison finished for her. Throwing off the blankets, she grabbed for her clothes. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Taneem asked anxiously.

"We're two floors underground," Alison reminded her, pulling on her jeans and shirt. "We should get better reception outside."

"But are you allowed to leave the house?"

Alison stuffed her feet into her low-topped boots. "Let's find out."