Jak Koke: Stranger souls

She stood tall and beautiful, a goddess of alabaster and emerald. An elegant evening dress clung to her slender form like a sequined glove. Its color was deep green, almost black, and it shimmered as she moved. Her raven hair hung straight and full to her waist, and her eyes glinted green like deep-set emeralds. She smiled demurely, her seductive lips a pale burgundy. The sculpted shadows of her face highlighted her elven features-high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and ears that rose to a delicate point. All of it one hundred percent natural, no cosmetic or technological enhancements. No artificial flavors or colors.

Her name was Nadja Daviar, and she was the voice of the great dragon Dunkelzahn. When she spoke, the mostly male crowd around her became entranced. Her voice was deep and resonant, smooth and silky, utterly accentless. Her speech was mesmerizing and musical, befitting a great dragon who was ancient beyond reckoning, supremely intelligent and wise. Charisma radiated from her, casting a spell over the gathering of politicians and megacorporate executives around her.

Nadja found herself feeling alone for the first time since before the inauguration. She wasn't truly alone, of course, considering the press of metahumanity in the Watergate Hotel's Grand Ballroom around her, most of whom wanted to get close to her and Dunkelzahn. No, Nadja felt alone because Dunkelzahn had excused himself a few minutes earlier, in the middle of a tango with her. They had moved so well together on the dance floor, the dragon superbly in command of his human form. The crowd had watched at first, awestruck. Then they had joined in.

It was Carla Brooks, Dunkelzahn's chief of security, who

had interrupted the dance so that Dunkelzahn could take a private telecom call. It must have been extremely important. Dunkelzahn graciously excused himself to find a private chamber, leaving Nadja alone in the midst of the many dancing couples. Feeling naked without the dragon's thoughts in her head.

Normally, she spoke for him because he disliked assuming human form unless absolutely necessary. Like tonight. Now, she stood in the small crowd listening to Damien Knight speak. "Is that it for our new president then?" he asked. "I suppose he is getting on in years." Knight paused for laughter from the other suits. Then he looked directly at Nadja, his hazel eyes boring into her. "How old is the president anyhow, Miss Daviar?"

Nadja gave Knight a smile, making a conscious effort to maintain the illusion of confidence. She suspected that he knew how much she disliked him, but this was a social occasion and the press was present. All the proper graces must hold true. "That's confidential," she said. "Dunkelzahn is a little sensitive about it, really. He keeps telling me he's not a day over twenty-nine… thousand."

All the men laughed, including Knight, but Nadja knew it was more political than genuine. Everyone around her was highly adept at the art of kissing hoop. And there certainly was no end of powerful targets in the ballroom tonight, huddled in tight groups amid the masses of the voting public who had shown up to celebrate Dunkelzahn's victory and eat the free food.

The group around her was a Who's Who of Ares Macrotechnology, all here because Ares had been a major contributor to Dunkelzahn's election bid. Knight, who had helped Dunkelzahn choose Kyle Haeffner as his running mate, was the CEO of the megacorp, one of the six most powerful transnational in the world. He stood just shorter than her two meters, and was broadly built, with salt and pepper hair and a rugged face that was quite attractive. A platinum-plated datajack gleamed discreetly on his temple, almost hidden under his perfectly coifed hair.

Next to Knight was his aide, a balding human of about forty-five, with blue eyes and a winning smile that seemed almost genuine. His name was Gerrold Watkins, and he paid

close attention to everything Knight did, probably recording it via an internal video link.

Also present was Roger Soaring Owl, CEO of Knight Errant, a short man with a modest paunch and a slight rusty brown tint to his skin, indicating some Amerind blood. Soaring Owl had an excellent sense of humor, but he seemed inhibited by Knight's presence as though he were playing lackey to the Ares president. Knight Errant was an Ares subsidiary, and Knight involved himself in its operations on a regular basis. Nadja had heard stories of friction between the two, and perhaps that knowledge, if true, could be of use to her at a later time, but she hadn't seen any hint of it tonight.

On her other side and slightly behind her stood her own aide, Gordon Wu, carefully recording everything on his headware so that it could be analyzed later if need be. Promises made could not be accidentally forgotten, and even though Nadja's memory was photographic, she didn't take chances.

Nadja looked around the ballroom, secretly trying to catch sight of Dunkelzahn's human form. She hoped he wouldn't leave her stranded for too long; she hated having to make small talk with these corporate sharks. The Watergate Hotel's ballroom was spacious and elegantly appointed. Thick curtains of purple velvet hung along the walls, and chandeliers of smoky crystal illuminated the chamber. At one end, a dais had been erected, and upon it stood a massive trideo display showing a recording of Dunkelzahn in his true form, giving his victory speech on election night.

Even the huge display couldn't capture the dragon's size as he crouched on the platform. His blue and silver scales shone under the spotlight, tendons and muscles sending a rainbow of colors across the screen as he adjusted his position and his scales rippled.

Nadja saw herself on the screens, standing in front of him, a tiny figure next to Dunkelzahn's bulk. A necessary and crucial element of the show as she spoke the dragon's words. She was his voice as he perched behind her and grinned as wide and full as Lewis Carroll's Cheshire cat.

In the trideo, her voice rang out. "This is not my victory. It belongs to everyone who voted for what I represent-hope, progress, a brighter future for all of us. A new golden age."

The words were Dunkelzahn's, but Nadja believed them as though they were her own. The dragon was the most noble creature she had ever met. Dunkelzahn wanted to make the world a better place, wanted to give hope to the downtrodden and cynical metahumans of this age. And he had a plan to make it happen. Nadja was totally committed to him, and she had grown to love the dragon. He was her closest friend.

Now, Nadja looked away from the trid screens and continued her discreet scan of the ballroom. She wasn't used to being out of Dunkelzahn's presence for very long and had grown quite attached to having his thoughts in her mind. Then she saw him emerging from one of the private anterooms. His presence was diminished somewhat in human form, but he radiated power nonetheless. It was almost a joke that secret servicemen swarmed around him, accompanied by the dragon's own private security. Carla Brooks walked alongside, a tall, black-skinned elf who was in charge of the security arrangements.

His personal power far exceeds the combined strength of those forces, thought Nadja. But I suppose it just wouldn't look right without the show of security. She smiled at the execs around her. "Please excuse me," she said. "The president has returned."

Dunkelzahn's human form was striking without ostentation; he stood shorter than Nadja, and he had a broader build. He looked very young, perfectly proportioned, like Michael-angelo's David, with olive skin and curly brown hair. Only his eyes betrayed his supernatural origin-metallic blue and silver with pupils that were unnaturally black, like pinpoint windows into a deep void. Nadja noticed that nobody would meet his gaze for long.