Robert Charette - Never deal with a Dragon

“And where would that leave me, Elf? I gave my word before witnesses. I don’t care that a lot of punks and cheap street hoods who call themselves samurai think the latest chrome and a bad attitude are all they need. There’s a lot more to it than that. The old Japanese understood the difference almost as well as my ancestors. A warrior must be a man of honor. He keeps his word and is stronger than others, especially in his heart.”

“Though you may only be a samurai of the streets, Ghost Who Walks Inside, you are a man of honor and a warrior.”

“Am I?”

“Even the old samurai were men first.”

The Indian quietly put down his cup. One of his hand razors slid from its ecto-myelin sheath. He scraped the sparkling needle of carbide steel against the tile of the floor, leaving tiny curls of plastic in its wake.

“What about you, Elf? Why haven’t you run for the trees?”

“Honor is not the exclusive property of samurai, street or otherwise,” Dodger said in what he hoped was a sufficiently injured tone.

“Hasn’t ever been your real worry, either.”

Ghost knew him too well. He could claim he was doing it for the thrill, as he had in the past. Ghost wouldn’t believe that, either. Dodger could hardly admit that he wasn’t really sure of all his reasons for doing it.

Ghost unfolded his legs and rose from the floor. “They’re coming,” he said. He moved to face the window, leaning against the wall with studied nonchalance.

Ghost was right. After a moment, laughter drifted up from the alley. Sally clambered through the window first. Though dressed in a glittery jumpsuit that was a far haul from her regular armor-lined running rig, she had her cross-belted holster and scabbard snugged across her hips. The magesword caught on the sill, but Sam reached quickly to free it. A moment later, he climbed through. When he reached for Sally, she side-stepped his arm, only letting his lips brush her cheek. Not till then did Sam realize Dodger and Ghost were in the room. He greeted them with a sheepish smile.

Dodger smiled back. Only politeness would keep things civil. Ghost ignored Sam and spoke to Sally.

“Have you come to help?”

“Help with what? Do you need help with the cooking?” Sally asked with a bright smile.

“ He needs help,” Ghost snapped, indicating Sam with a jerk of his head.

“Oh, no.” She blew Sam a kiss, then sauntered across the room to throw herself down on the sleeping pad. She leaned on one elbow and stroked the magesword in its scabbard. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

Ghost’s nostrils distended. “Hasn’t he told you what he found out?”

She tossed her head to flip her braid down her back. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Dodger watched Sam look back and forth between the two of them, baffled by the subtext of their exchange. He looked ready to speak, but Ghost’s next outburst kept him from doing so.

“What you do is your own fragging business. It doesn’t affect me. But if you do nothing, it will affect him. It’ll probably kill him. This run ain’t against no two-bit Mr. Johnson anymore.”

“What makes you think I can make any difference?” she shouted back.

“You’ve got the magic he can’t control yet. Drek, woman! There’re Dragons in this now.”

“There were Dragons in it before.”

‘We can’t face Dragons without magic.”

“Missile’s as good as a fireball.”

“Kham’s taking your lead. You could bring him in, and then we’d have a chance.”

“Kham’s acting like an adult, unlike some people. He’s a big boy and can make his own choices.”

Ghost bit down on a reply and stalked toward the window. Dodger thought the Indian intended to keep on going, but then Ghost pulled up and turned. When he spoke, his tone was quieter, his voice taking on a note of appeal.

“You know the three of us don’t have enough jazz to take on Haesslich. Whether or not his plant in Renraku is a rogue operation, the Dragon is still head of United Oil Security in Seattle. That’ll give him a fragging lot of resources.”

“But that would expose him to his superiors,” Sam objected, ready to talk now that the subject was unequivocally business.

“Not necessarily,” Sally said. “He’s a canny old worm, He could come up with some way to make it look like you were after UniOil assets and then justify use of the Company’s forces.”

“Even without UniOil security teams, there’s the other Dragon and Hart,” Ghost pointed out.

“If they’re still working for him,” Sam said.

“Any reason to believe they’re not?” Sally asked.

“Greerson,” he said. “If Haesslich still had Hart and Tessien, why would he send Greerson after me?”

“Nobody said he sent Greerson,” Sally said.

“Lady Tsung, do you know something? Is there another player in the game?”

Sally shrugged. “Possible. It’s also possible that Greerson was working for Haesslich all along and you just haven’t run into him till now. Even if I help, even if I coax Kham and his gang to play along, you boys are facing a real mess. It’s going to take a lot of muscle to put Haesslich out of business.”

“Then you will help.” Ghost made his question a statement.

Without a word. Sally rolled to her feet and strode to the kitchen counter to pour herself a cup of soykaf. Then she turned, leaned back against the counter, and drank off half the cup. Cradling the mug in both hands, she stood thinking for a moment or two.

“What about Lofwyr?” she said to Sam. “He sent you down to do his dirty work. Maybe he’d lend a hand, or at least finance some of this show.”

“I can ask,” Sam said.

To Dodger, it sounded as though Sam wasn’t really sure he could. He would try because Sally had asked him to. The Elf wondered just what Sally expected to get out of this.

“Welcome to the team, Lady Tsung.”

“Not so fast, Dodger. Let’s wait and see if that Quebecker wizworm is going to put his money where his maw is. I’ll play if he will.”

Jacqueline noted the line through which the call was coming. It was the one set aside for Verner. He must have finally discovered the nature of his opponent. While initiating the trace, she checked the calendar. Two days ahead of prediction.

She launched the simulator that would present her Karen Montejac persona on a half-second delay, just enough time For the simulator program to match the image’s facial movements to her words.

“Yes, Mr. Verner,” she said, opening the line.

She had to give the boy credit, He was quick to hide his surprise at being named as she came online. “I want to speak with Lofwyr,” he said.

“I’m sorry, but he is unavailable at the moment. May I give him a message?”

‘I want to speak to him personally,” Sam insisted. “Tell it’s about our deal.”

“Do you wish to cancel?”

“No.” His confusion and distress were evident to her practiced eye. “Look, I just need to talk to him. Things are different than he said they’d be, and I want to talk to him about Drake.”

“I see,” she responded with cool secretarial efficiency. “One of our arbitrators will be in touch. Six this evening at your current location?”

“Ah, yeah. Six is fine.”

“Very good, then. You will see Mr. Enterich.”

“But you don’t know where I am.”

“Mr. Enterich already has the information, sir, and I am sure he can provide a satisfactory response to any complaint you may have. Anything else, sir?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Then have a good day, Mr. Verner.” She broke the connection before she burst out laughing. She did enjoy it when the marks had no idea what was going on. Controlling her mirth, she opened a line to Lofwyr. The golden-scaled head appeared on the screen, and the Dragon fixed her with a stare. “Verner has reported. Lord. He will meet Mr. Enterich on the Drake matter at six, Seattle time.”