Timothy Zahn - Dragon and Thief

Unless, of course, Snake Voice had changed his mind about wanting his prisoners undamaged. In that case, the fighters' job was going to be a whole lot easier.

"You mistake my point," Draycos said. "I do not know whether they borrowed the maneuver from the K'da or created it themselves. What I do know is how to deal with it. At my command, make the tightest turn to the left this ship is capable of."

Jack frowned. Turning left would put them directly into the path of one of the fighters. "Uncle Virge?"

"Sorry, lad, but I can't see anything better to suggest," Uncle Virge said. "We'll never make it out of the atmosphere before they catch us. Let's see what tricks our K'da warrior can pull out of his hat."

Jack took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Very well," Draycos said, his breath uncomfortably hot on Jack's cheek. On the aft display the fighters had finished their study of the situation and were starting to move in. "Prepare... now."

Jack twisted the yoke all the way to the left, leaning into the turn as the Essenay skidded hard to the side. At the same time, he heard the short spitting hiss of one of their missiles being launched.

"Draycos!" Uncle Virge shouted. "Idiot—you fired too low!"

Draycos didn't reply. The Essenay started to buck inside its own shock wave; Jack leaned hard on the yoke to control it, his full attention on the wind-skid indicators. If they went into a stall now, the ship would be a sitting duck.

From the weapons board came another spitting hiss, followed immediately by the flicker of the cockpit lights that meant the lasers were firing. "Draycos, either learn to shoot straight or stop wasting our missiles," Uncle Virge snapped. "All you're doing is—"

He broke off suddenly. Jack had just enough time to frown; and then, from the corner of his eye he saw a brilliant flash. "What happened?" he snapped, shifting his attention back to the aft display. The explosion was already starting to fade, and in its light he could see scattered bits of debris flying outward in all directions.

"I will be dipped in butter and rolled in bread crumbs," Uncle Virge said, sounding awed. "It worked. It actually worked."

"What worked?" Jack demanded. "I wasn't watching. What happened?"

"Your gold-plated friend and his near-misses suckered one of the fighters into flying straight into his friend, that's all," Uncle Virge said. "Amazing."

"They were too close together," Draycos added, his forelegs pulling back and settling flat onto Jack's skin. "The chiv-nez maneuver has always had that weakness."

On the ECHO section of the board, a green light flashed. "We're clear of atmosphere," Jack announced. "Should I put us on ECHO?"

"By all means," Uncle Virge said. "Before they get something else into the air after us."

Jack nodded and pulled the short lever. The shimmering rainbow effect flashed in front of them and became the blue of hyperspace.

For the moment, at least, they were safe.

Dinner that evening was a simple affair.

It was simple for Jack, anyway. It was somewhat hit-or-miss for Draycos. The dragon had never sampled human fare before, and even with the Essenay's food synthesizer churning out small test samples at its usual speed and efficiency, the process took quite awhile.

Fortunately, basic nutrition wasn't going to be a problem. According to Draycos, the K'da body could synthesize all the vitamins he needed from the basic proteins and carbohydrates of a standard human diet. The trick was more a matter of finding something he wouldn't turn up his pointy snout at.

They finally hit on a combination of hamburger and tuna fish, mixed together with chocolate sauce and a dash of light-grade motor oil from the Essenay's engine room. Draycos ate dog-style, scooping the meal up with teeth and tongue from a soup bowl at one end of the short galley table.

Jack sat at the other end, eating his cheeseburger and trying hard not to think about the weird combination the dragon was chomping down.

When dinner was over, it was time to retire to the dayroom with a glass of fizzy-soda for Jack and a bowl of orange-flavored water for Draycos. For a long, hard discussion.

"I'm sorry," Jack said after the dragon had related his version of the battle. "I know you want to get back at the people who killed your friends. But I really can't help you."

"You misunderstand me, Jack Morgan," Draycos said. He was lying on the dayroom floor on his stomach, his posture halfway between that of a dog and a cat. "I do not seek revenge. I do not even seek justice."

"Then what do you want?" Jack asked.

"I have told you already," Draycos said. "I must find those who used the Death against us."

"But if you don't want revenge—"

"Tell us more about this Death weapon," Uncle Virge's voice came from the intercom speaker. "You say it kills other beings besides K'da and Shontine. How do you know?"

"We have seen it used against others," Draycos said, the tip of his tail lashing restlessly through the air behind him. "The Valahgua are a vicious people who seek total domination of our region of space. They have already destroyed one species and scattered two others who stood in the way of that goal. The K'da and Shontine are only their most recent victims. Why do you not believe me?"

The intercom gave a soft sigh. "We find it hard to believe for the simple fact that it sounds unbelievable," Uncle Virge said candidly. "I mean, come on. A weapon that goes straight through a ship's hull without damaging it, yet kills everyone inside? How can that be possible?"

"I do not know the science," Draycos said. "It is said that the Death is a vibration of space itself, which seeks out the center core of all living beings and destroys that connection and their harmony with the universe."

"That must be the poet part of the poet-warrior coming out," Jack murmured, sipping his fizzy-soda.

"I do not know the proper words," Draycos said impatiently. "I know only the reality. If the Death has come to this region of space, your people are in great danger. Why can you not understand that?"

"We understand just fine," Uncle Virge said quietly. "Trouble is, there's something you're holding back. Something important that you're not telling us."

For a moment Draycos lay as unmoving as a statue. Then, the tip of his tail twitched again. "Very well," he said. "Let us trade secrets."

His tongue flicked out between his teeth. "You may start, Jack Morgan. Tell me why you pretend there is another human aboard this ship."

Jack felt his throat tighten. "What are you talking about?" he asked, the automatic caution of long habit kicking in. "I already explained that Uncle Virge is an invalid and can't leave his cabin."

"Do not lie to me," Draycos warned. "All beings, whether K'da or Shontine or human, leave traces of their scent in the air. There is no second human here."

"Oh, really?" Uncle Virge said huffily. "Let me tell you, my gold-scaled friend. You have a lot to learn about us humans—"

"No," Jack cut him off. After a year of deception, he was suddenly tired of the lies. Tired of all the lies. "No, it's all right. He's got us. I mean, he's got me."

"Jack, lad—"

"No," Jack said firmly. "He saved my life. He deserves to know."

He turned to Draycos. "Uncle Virge is a computer program," he told the dragon. "It's the standard ship's computer interface; only before he died, my Uncle Virgil imprinted it with his own voice and speech mannerisms."

"Interesting," Draycos murmured. "Is it alive?"

"Not like us, no," Jack said. "He can mimic a person when he talks, and he can think and reason a little. But not very much, and not outside his programming."

"I see." Draycos was silent a moment. "How long have you lived this way?"