Dragon and Judge

CHAPTER 7

The Great Assembly Hall turned out to be the long structure straddling the river that Draycos had noticed on their flight into the canyon earlier that day. A good two hundred feet long and thirty wide, with open sides and a wood-and-weave roof, it was supported by a set of wide, ten-foot-high stone pylons sunk deep into the edges of the river.

The positioning of the Hall puzzled him for a while until he remembered that with the high canyon walls, the crops spread out along the floor would receive only limited sunlight each day. Whatever land lay beneath the Hall would receive none at all. The Golvins had therefore built the structure over the river, which couldn't be farmed anyway.

Dinner was a crowded and noisy affair, with at least two hundred of the aliens present. Jack was seated at the One's table, laid out just beneath a tall thronelike chair at the northern end of the Hall. From the flurry of one- and two-syllable names being tossed around the table, Draycos concluded that the boy had been seated among the very top crust of the canyon's social structure.

But while the Golvins chattered and laughed through the meal, Jack himself was uncharacteristically quiet. He was polite enough, answering any questions put to him, and smiled and nodded "when appropriate. But his heart clearly wasn't in any of it.

Draycos's chance came late in the meal, when local custom apparently required the diners to get up and mingle with those of different rank. Jack left his seat as well, but instead of milling around he went to the side of the Hall. Leaning his elbows on the waist-high wall, he gazed out at the moonlit canyon around them. "Jack?" Draycos called tentatively from his shoulder.

"Right here," the boy said, his voice sounding as distant as the rest of him.

"I need to check out the shuttle," Draycos told him, trying without success to read the boy's face. "Is the area clear?"

Jack took a deep breath, as if forcing himself out of distant thoughts, and glanced around. "Looks okay," he said. Turning a little, he stretched his right arm over the wall and let it dangle downward.

Draycos slithered down the boy's arm and popped out of his sleeve. A quick snap of his front legs, and he had caught the outside of the wall with his claws. For a moment he hung there, confirming for himself that the area was clear of observers. Then, with a last look at Jack's troubled face, he let go and dropped onto the edge of the cropland below.

There were at least eight different plant species being cultivated in the canyon, Draycos had noted during Jack's walk that afternoon. Generally, there were two to four different types in each of the plots marked off by the narrow irrigation channels.

The farmers probably saw the arrangement as an efficient way of using the different needs of the different plants. A poet-warrior like Draycos saw instead the possibilities of having differently sized plants to move through. Flicking out his tongue every couple of breaths to sample the subtle odors of the area, he headed downstream toward the landing pit and the shuttle.

He was halfway there when he spotted a lone Golvin on the far side of the river moving along the walkways between the crop plots, heading the same direction Draycos was.

Draycos froze, crouching down beside a wide stand of wheat-like plants, frowning to himself. The alien wasn't carrying any tools, so he probably wasn't going out to work in the fields. He probably wasn't simply going for a stroll, either—he was behaving far too furtively for that.

And aside from the crops and a couple of the apartment pillars, the only thing in this direction was the shuttle.

Draycos lashed his tail thoughtfully. Unfortunately for him, the Golvin didn't have to worry about being seen out here. Draycos did, which meant that in a straight head-to-head skulking race through the cropland, the alien would almost certainly reach the shuttle first.

But there was nothing that said Draycos had to keep to the cropland.

The river water was cool, but not nearly as cold as he'd thought it might be. He slipped beneath the surface, leaving only the top of his head above water, and paddled quickly and quietly toward the landing pit.

He reached it well before the Golvin and eased up out of the river. Crouching in the shuttle's shadow with the water dripping off his scales, he gave the vehicle a quick look.

As he'd seen on their earlier trip, the passenger compartment contained front and rear bench seats, each capable of seating three Golvins. There was also a wide hatchway in the rear of the vehicle, he could see now, probably leading to a storage area.

But there was no connection between it and the passenger compartment. If Draycos wanted to be able to see anything, the storage area was out.

The Golvin was only about seventy feet away now. Scooping up a small stone from the riverbed, Draycos wrapped the tip of his tail around it and flipped it, sling style, over the alien's head.

It landed with a soft rustle in the plants behind him. Startled, the Golvin spun around, his head wagging back and forth as he searched for the source of the noise.

And with the other's back turned, Draycos popped the shuttle's rear door and slipped inside.

Pulling the door closed again, he lay on his side on the rear seat floor and looked around. The back of the front bench seat was upholstered with a thick dark blue cloth, he saw, as were the rear seats. Extending a claw, he cut the cloth away from both the bottom and the side edges of the front seat, creating a wide flap.

Rolling onto his other side, he did the same with the cloth extending down from the front of the rear seat. Then, flipping both flaps up, he lay down on the floor and arranged the flaps on top of himself.

It was an absurdly simple deception, and in the full light of day it wouldn't hold up for a second. But the night was dark, and the Golvin out there was in a hurry. Chances were good he wouldn't give the rear seat even a first look, let alone a second.

The front driver's side door opened, and Draycos braced himself. But from the quick and shifting pressures on the seat cushions in front of him, it appeared the Golvin was intent on just getting in and getting away.

A few seconds later, the shuttle lifted off into the night. Cutting hard away from the center of the canyon and the party still going on in the Great Hall, they headed up. Draycos eased the corners of the flaps away from his eyes and settled in to wait.

They'd been flying for nearly an hour when Draycos's sense of balance told him they were starting down. The starlight was joined now by a diffuse glow reflected from the shuttle ceiling, indicating the lights of civilization below. Draycos arranged the camouflaging flaps over himself again, and a few minutes later they were down.

The door opened, there was another quick shifting of the Golvin's weight on the seat, and then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Draycos gave it a twenty-count. Then, pushing aside the flaps, he eased up to the level of the window and looked out.

They had landed in a large parking area, apparently not far from the spaceport where the Essenay had arrived a few hours earlier. Surrounding the landing area on three sides were squat buildings housing various small shops.

And on the fourth side was a single, large building. Above the door, in glowing letters, were the words InterWorld Corporation, NorthCentral Semaline.

Draycos felt his claws scratch gently against the shuttle floor. So that was the reason the Golvin had sneaked away from the big celebration. He'd had an urgent offworld message to send.

Right after Jack's arrival at the canyon.

Fifteen minutes later, the Golvin emerged from the InterWorld building and headed toward the shuttle at a fast jog. Draycos was back under his camouflage flaps before the door was pulled open. Once again, the Golvin didn't bother to check his rear seat before taking off.

This time, that inattention was going to cost him.

The flight back to the canyon was uneventful. Draycos waited patiently . . . and as the Golvin eased the shuttle into the landing pit, the K'da silently brushed aside the flaps and rose up behind the other. "Don't turn around," he growled.

The Golvin jerked as if he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. Reflexively, he started to turn his head.

He brought the movement up short as his cheek came up against a waiting K'da claw. "Who are you?" he gasped.

"I ask the questions," Draycos said. "You sent an InterWorld message. What was the message, and to whom did you send it?"

"I sent no—"

He cut off in a strangled gasp as Draycos pressed the claw firmly into his skin. "What was the message, and to whom did you send it?"

"I have no name," the Golvin said, his voice starting to take on an edge of panic. "Only a number."

"Give me the number."

The Golvin did so. It was a long number, and Draycos could only hope he would be able to remember all the digits. "Now the message," he said.

The Golvin didn't answer. Draycos prodded him again—"I was just to let them know if another Jupa came to the canyon," he said, the words practically tumbling over themselves in his effort to get them out. Apparently, no one had told him there might be danger involved in this little errand.

"And then what?"

"That's all," the Golvin said. "I was just to tell them. That is all I know."

It probably was, too, Draycos knew. No one would be foolish enough to trust a pathetic creature like this with any genuine secrets. "You will tell no one about this conversation," he said. "And you will make no further trips outside this canyon."

"I will do as you say," the Golvin said. "You may trust my word in—"

The rest of the promise was lost as Draycos slapped him firmly across his neck below his ear.

He slumped down in his seat, unconscious. Draycos waited a moment to be sure, then opened the rear door and slipped outside.

The Great Hall was quiet and dark, he noticed, the party apparently over. Still, there might still be stragglers wandering around the cropland. Lowering himself once again into the river, he headed upstream.

He reached Jack's pillar without incident. The bridge the Golvins had constructed was the obvious way up, but it might be interesting to see if he could climb the ivy plants the way the Golvins did. Setting his front claws into the mesh, he started up.

It was a mixed success. The ivy was strong enough to support his weight and was solidly rooted into the stone. But Draycos's claws were sharper than whatever small barbs or hooks the Golvins had in their hands that allowed them to climb. He had to be constantly on the alert lest he slice through the plants and dump himself onto the ground.

If worst came to worst, he decided, it would probably be faster to ignore the plants and dig his claws directly into the small cracks in the stone, the way he'd done on his way out of the Great Hall.

The apartment, when he reached it, was dark and quiet. But a quick tasting of the air confirmed that Jack was there, and that the boy was alone. Padding silently across the main room, he slipped into the bedroom.

"About time," Jack said quietly from the bed. "I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

"My apologies," Draycos said, coming up to him. "I ended up taking a small side trip."

"Sounds interesting," Jack said. "By the way, if you're hungry there's bread, meat, and fruit in the refrigerator."

"Thank you," Draycos said, suddenly realizing just how hungry he was.

"Don't thank me," Jack said with the first touch of humor Draycos had heard from him all day. "The One caught me slipping some food into my pocket from the serving platter and told me that wasn't necessary, that they would supply whatever I wanted for breakfasts and midnight snacking."

"Very kind of him," Draycos said, changing direction back to the door. "If you don't mind . . .?"

"No, help yourself," Jack said. "I can't vouch for what kind of meat it is, though."

"There are many species of animals who live in deserts," Draycos reminded him.

"Maybe," Jack said doubtfully. "But in a farming area like this, I'm guessing most of what they get is some sort of rodent."

"Or fish."

"Oh, right," Jack said, his voice brightening. "Yeah, that sounds a lot better. Good. Go have some fish."

The platter in the refrigerator was a welcome sight, piled high with thin strips of dried and seasoned meat. Draycos ate his fill, not actually caring what kind of creature it had come from.

And when he was finished, he returned to the bedroom and told Jack all about his unplanned trip to the city.

Jack listened in silence until the K'da had finished. "What do you think it means?" he asked.

"I think it's fairly obvious," Draycos told him grimly. "Someone out there doesn't want a Judge-Paladin visiting this canyon."

"Or maybe they don't want him visiting the mining area you spotted outside the canyon?" Jack suggested.

"Possibly," Draycos said. "However, at this point the specifics aren't important. There was no one outside as I came in, and the shuttle's controls seem straightforward enough. We can be back at the spaceport within an hour and—"

"We're not leaving."

Draycos broke off in midsentence. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"Uncle Virgil told me my parents were killed by an explosion," Jack said, his voice going dark. "That made sense when I thought they were miners. But I can only think of one situation where a Judge-Paladin would die that way." In the darkness Draycos sensed the boy brace himself. "I think they were murdered."

Draycos twitched his tail in a grimace. He'd come to that same conclusion the moment Jack had learned their true professions. "All the more reason for us to leave."

"All the more reason for us to stay," Jack countered. "Judge-Paladins aren't just roaming benchwarmers, you know. They have the authority to investigate and to even pass summary judgment in some cases. I'm apparently a Judge-Paladin now. Let's investigate."

Draycos sighed. "Jack, we don't even know what we're looking for," he said. "Not to mention the fact that all your detection and sensor equipment is aboard the Essenay."

"That just means we'll have to make do with our eyes and your nose and tongue," Jack said. "Hey, you're the one who told me that K'da warriors had the right and the duty to pass judgment on murderers."

"That was under K'da and Shontine law," Draycos reminded him. "At any rate, my prime duty is to protect my host."

"You will be," Jack assured him. "You'll be right here with me the whole time. Look, Draycos, it'll be a week or two at least before anyone can get here. Maybe even longer—that number your buddy called was a Barcarole exchange, and that system's nearly all the way across the Orion Arm."

"Unless they choose to spend extra fuel to obtain extra speed."

"Which assumes whoever it is even bothers to send anyone," Jack went on doggedly. "It's been eleven years, after all. I doubt anyone even cares anymore."

Except you, the thought flicked through Draycos's mind. "We should at least go back to the spaceport and try to contact Uncle Virge," he urged. "Let him know what we're doing, and have him standing by in case of trouble."

For a long moment Jack was silent. "Actually, I don't think the Essenay's here anymore," he said at last.

Draycos felt his neck arch. "That's impossible," he said. "Uncle Virgil programmed the ship to stay with you and protect you."

"Then where is it?" Jack demanded hotly. "Uncle Virge knew about all this, remember? He should have been buzzing around overhead before we even landed."

"But where would he have gone?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't know," he said, his brief flash of anger fading away. "Maybe Frost or Neverlin tracked us here and was able to nail him. Or maybe they didn't actually get him, but he's had to go to ground like he did on Rho Scorvi."

He inhaled deeply, then let the air out in a long sigh. "Or else Alison's taken control and flown off on her own."

Draycos hesitated, the automatic denial sticking in his throat. Ever since Alison and Jack had met, back at the Whinyard's Edge training camp, he'd somehow felt that the girl was trustworthy. That trust had only deepened during their time together on Rho Scorvi. It was hard to believe she would betray them.

But then, Draycos had been wrong before. "I don't think Uncle Virge would permit himself to be blocked or neutralized for long," he said instead. "He was programmed by Virgil Morgan, and we both know how clever and devious he was."

"Yeah, well, I get the feeling Alison's a lot more clever and devious than she lets on," Jack said. "But never mind that. The point is that whatever's happened to the Essenay, we've still got access to that shuttle out there. We can leave pretty much anytime we want to."

Draycos flicked his tail. There were some serious flaws in that argument, of course. But it was clear Jack didn't want to hear them. "And until we so decide, you wish to investigate your parents' deaths?"

Rolling half over in bed, Jack reached over to the nightstand and picked up the Judge-Paladin hat. "I can't just walk away, Draycos," he said quietly, fingering the hat. "I just can't."

"I understand," Draycos said, conceding defeat. It was still a terrible idea to stay here—every thread of warrior instinct in his heart was screaming at him to get them out of this place.

But he was a poet-warrior of the K'da, and his first responsibility was to his host. Jack wanted to stay, so stay they would.

And he really did understand Jack's need to do so.

"Hey, don't look at me that way," Jack admonished him, some of the darkness in his mood lifting. "It'll be all right." In the dim light from outside, Draycos saw the boy smile tightly. "Trust me."