Dragons Wild

by Robert Asprin

  “Mr. McCandles. So good of you to join me.” A warm, resonant voice came to him from the depths of the vehicle. “I don’t believe we’ve had the opportunity to talk before.”

  Griffen was so surprised, he barely noticed the two suits entering behind him and closing the door before the limo eased into traffic. He wasn’t particularly up on news and politics, but one would have to live in a barrel not to recognize the man addressing him.

  “Senator Langley,” he said, inclining his head in a polite nod. “An honor to meet you, sir.”

  “Ah, so you know who I am.” The man beamed, flashing the smile that the newspapers and TV cameras loved.

  “It would be hard not to, considering your distinguished career,” Griffen said. “I’m just a little surprised that you know who I am…or care, for that matter.”

  “I’ve known your family for a long time.” The senator waved, negligently. “Congratulations on your graduation, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” Griffen said. “So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “More curiosity than anything,” Langley said. “I heard you were meeting with your uncle today, and I just wanted to hear how the two of you got along.”

  Griffen wasn’t sure which was more unbelievable. The idea that Senator Langley was aware of his movements, or the fact that he had been waiting outside his uncle’s office in a limo for an unspecified length of time to find out the results of his meeting.

  “We got along well enough, I guess,” he said cautiously. “It’s the first time we’ve really sat and talked, you know. Of course, he didn’t need an ‘escort’ to get me to talk to him.”

  “Yes, yes,” the senator said, leaning forward impatiently and ignoring the younger man’s dig. “What I want to know is whether or not you’ve signed on with him.”

  This was getting just too bizarre. Griffen decided that he wanted to draw this discussion to a conclusion.

  “No, I haven’t,” he said. “Frankly, I found Uncle Malcolm too unorthodox for my comfort.”

  Langley sat back and stared at him.

  “Unorthodox?” he echoed. Then a smile warmed his face. “Oh. I see. You mean about the dragons.”

  Griffen frowned at him. Was the whole world going crazy?

  “Yes. I guess that was it,” he managed. “And please don’t tell me that you’re one, too. I’ve heard enough about dragons for one day…if not for a lifetime.”

  The senator blinked, obviously startled.

  “Me? No. I’m not a dragon. Some of the principals I represent are, however. They’re very interested in…”

  “Senator,” one of the bodyguards said.

  Somehow he managed to crowd both an admonishment and a warning into the one word. Griffen made a hasty revision of his interpretation of the relationship between the senator and his two escorts.

  “Well, the less said about that, the better,” the senator said hastily. “For both our goods.”

  “Excuse me?” Griffen said, now totally confused.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Langley smiled, regaining his composure. “So, you turned Mal down, eh?”

  “Well, actually I told him I’d think about it,” Griffen said, “but I’ll admit I just can’t see us working together.”

  “Only one to a hill, eh?” the senator said. “I guess that’s wise. Courageous to the point of being foolhardy, perhaps, but wise nonetheless. Well, I guess that answers my questions. Don’t want to take up any more of your time. I believe this is your hotel.”

  The limo pulled smoothly over to the curb in front of Griffen’s hotel.

  Griffen was starting to have a few questions of his own, but it was clear the discussion was at an end.

  “Right. Well, it was great meeting you, sir,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

  “Just one thing, Griffen…if I can call you that,” Langley said. “A friendly word of advice. Get used to hearing about dragons. They aren’t going to go away just because you don’t believe in them.”

  It wasn’t until Griffen had almost reached the entrance of the hotel that it occurred to him that the senator had never asked where he was staying. He had already known.

  Pausing, he glanced down the street in the direction the limo had gone.

  It had stopped a half block away. The door opened and one of the “bodyguards” emerged to stand beside the vehicle. Though he carefully did not look at Griffen, his posture was unmistakable to one who knew how to read people. His pose was calculated, threatening, and quite possibly lethal. He held the pose for a moment, then stuck his head back into the limo, apparently conferring with someone inside. He straightened and stared directly at Griffen for a long moment, then reentered the vehicle, which then moved off.

  Despite the day’s warmth, Griffen felt a sudden chill, as if he had just had a close call with an unseen, but no longer unknown danger.

  Four

  Mai looked like a doll and ate like a cannibal.

  Even though she was second-or third-generation American, her Asian ancestry apparently yielded strong enough genes that she could have walked into a role in The Flower Drum Song or maybe The World of Suzie Wong. She had that tiny, athletic physique one normally associates with gymnasts or dancers, and radiated enough energy to power an entire city block. Her dress and manner were pure American, though, and she exuded a rich, sophisticated aura that brought boutique clerks out of their comas and had any four-star restaurant head waiter snap to attention as if she were slumming royalty.

  Griffen loved being with her, if for no other reason than her dominating presence meant that he could give his sincere naivety pose a rest. No one even looked at him when he was with her. More than that, he enjoyed her company. Even now, watching her demolish a whole lobster, he took pleasure in her boundless enthusiasm.

  “What is it, lover?”

  Her sudden question roused him from his reverie.

  “Excuse me?” he said, caught off guard.

  “You were looking at me with a funny expression,” she said. “Have I got something stuck on my nose again?”

  “Not this time,” he said, smiling at the shared memory. “I was just trying to figure out how you can stuff so much food into such a small body and not gain any weight.”

  “I’m a high-energy person and I burn off a lot of calories,” she replied, negligently waving a forkful of lobster. “You know, kinda like a hummingbird. If I don’t eat a couple times my weight every day, I shrivel up and die.”

  “That must be it.” He smirked, watching the lobster disappear into the depths of her tiny mouth.

  “You certainly aren’t eating much,” she said, prizing another morsel of lobster from its shell. “Anything bothering you?”

  “Other than being unemployed with no immediate plans for the future, no,” he said with a grimace.

  “I told you not to worry about that,” she scolded, swirling her prize in the cup of melted butter. “I’m sure Daddy can find something for you. He owns a bunch of companies and employs zillions of people. If he doesn’t have an opening for someone with your talents, he’s bound to know someone who does.”

  “And what talents are those, pray tell?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he can set you up as a male prostitute for bored housewives,” she said, giving him a bawdy wink.

  That got him to laugh out loud.

  “All right. You win,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s impossible to stay depressed around you. So tell me about your father. What’s he like, anyway?”

  “Oh, he’s the typical Hong Kong businessman type,” she said, returning her attention to her meal. “Obsessed with finding new ways to make money. Still kinda old-fashioned in a stuffy sort of way, but he still knows how to have a good time. At least you don’t have to worry about him hassling you about being a dragon.”

  Griffen froze, staring at her.

  “Why did you say that?” he asked carefully.

  “Well, isn’t that what
you said was your problem with working for your crazy uncle?”

  “No. What I said was that he had some weird notion that he was a half-human superbeing. I didn’t say anything about dragons.”

  “Sure you did,” she insisted. “What’s more, he tried to convince you that you and your sister were dragons, too.”

  “No,” Griffen insisted doggedly. “If anything, I’ve made a point of not using that word. It’s such a crazy notion I don’t even like to think about it.”

  “So what?” Mai shrugged. “Maybe what you were describing sounded like a dragon and I just put a name to it. No big deal.”

  “But why that particular word?” he pressed. “I mean, when I think of crazy people, I don’t automatically think of dragons. At least, I didn’t used to.”

  “Look. We’re getting way off the subject,” Mai said firmly. “Let’s get this job thing settled right now.”

  She tossed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet, fishing her cell phone from her shoulder bag.

  “I’m going to duck outside, call Daddy, and explain the whole situation to him. He’ll come up with a job, and we’ll have something to celebrate instead of arguing about your loony uncle.”

  Griffen started to stand politely, but she was already on her way, weaving her way majestically through the other tables. Settling into his seat once more, he stared morosely at his barely touched dinner.

  What was wrong with him? He was letting this dragon thing bother him way too much. He had never really been that close to Uncle Malcolm. Why should his obsession with dragons matter one way or the other?

  Still, he was sure that he hadn’t mentioned dragons to Mai when he told her about the meeting. The casual way she referenced it didn’t seem like a spur of the moment label she had just made up. How could she know about the whole dragon thing. Unless…

  He shook his head as if trying to forget a bad dream.

  He was doing it again. He didn’t really believe what his uncle had said for one minute. Did he? It was true that the senator’s apparent knowledge and belief had given him pause, but he didn’t believe it himself.

  What was it Uncle Malcolm had said about the Eastern dragons? That they stayed apart from their European counterparts and their descendants, but were suspected to be secretly monitoring Western dragon activity?

  Now that was really getting silly. The “Yellow Peril” thing went out with Fu Manchu. Besides, Mai was as American as he himself was.

  He found himself staring at the half-finished lobster on her plate. Now that was really unusual. Once she started eating, Mai didn’t let anything interrupt her meal short of a nuclear attack…and even then she’d ask for a doggie bag. Yet when he started pressing her on the dragon thing…

  Suddenly restless, Griffen stood up and went looking for his dining companion.

  Before he could reach the door of the restaurant, however, he was intercepted by their waiter.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  Griffen was suddenly aware that it looked as if her were trying to duck out on the bill.

  “No, everything is fine,” he said with a smile. “I was just checking to see how my date’s phone call was going is all.”

  “Phone call?”

  “Yes. She stepped outside to get better reception on her cell phone.”

  The waiter frowned.

  “Umm…I think there must be some mistaken communication here, sir,” he said hesitantly. “The young lady you were dining with has left. I was a bit surprised myself, since she didn’t seem ill or upset, but I saw her hail a cab just outside our door.”

  Five

  Mai wasn’t in their hotel room when Griffen returned. Also missing were her bags and clothes.

  He knew from previous outings with her that she was far from the world’s fastest packer. That meant that she must have been particularly motivated to have gotten back to the hotel, packed, and departed before he had figured out her ploy and returned himself.

  This did little to put Griffen’s mind, already in a turmoil, at ease. What had started out as a clever ploy to try to land a cushy job had turned out to be the most disruptive day of his life.

  First his uncle Malcolm, instead of offering him a job, had given him a load of nonsense about dragons. Then there was the conversation with the senator and his bodyguards that weren’t. Now, on top of it all, his old playmate Mai not only turned out to be aware of the whole dragons thing, but had done a disappearing act rather than answer any questions.

  Maybe he should have taken Malcolm more seriously…or, at least, listened closer.

  What all had he said about dragons again?

  They were long-lived, and resistant to illness or injury. Did that mean that he could have taken on the two bodyguards if they had come after him? Resistant didn’t mean invulnerable. Besides, what if they were part dragon themselves? That grip had hurt.

  Griffen shook off that train of thought. Was he really ready to accept his uncle’s delusion? Had his lack of options made him that desperate? He already had his doubts, and half blamed himself for scaring off Mai. Who wouldn’t run off at such crazy talk?

  Animal control. Something about animal control. Actually, that could be kind of neat…if it were true. Unfortunately, there weren’t any animals in the hotel room for him to try it out on. What was more, he had no inclination to head out onto the city streets to look for subjects. Then again, could it possibly work on weaker-minded humans…like those without any dragon blood in them? Didn’t Malcolm specifically mention that dragons were charismatic and able to influence people to a disproportionate degree? Was that just another form of animal control?

  Despite his scattered thoughts, Griffen had to smile. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for. Move along.” No. It was just too silly to be taken seriously. But wasn’t he doing precisely that?

  Griffen was pacing the limited confines of the room now, moving from the window facing an air shaft to the bathroom door and back. Idly, he found himself wishing that he smoked, if for nothing else than a hand prop. As a poker player, he had never developed the habit. Too many tells were possible just from lighting a cigarette, as he knew from exploiting the same in others. On the other hand, if what Malcolm had said was correct, getting cancer was the least of his worries currently.

  He made himself stop pacing, leaning his forehead against the wall. The cool plaster did nothing to ease the ache in his head. It was too much. Dragons, he was actually running through the characteristics of dragons. His thoughts were colliding, his heart pumping, pulse as loud in his ears as the absurdity in his brain. If it had just been his uncle. Even just his uncle and the senator, though the latter was harder to brush off. Then Mai, leaving him like that. Instantly, without hesitation, as if he were…nothing.

  Or as if he were a threat.

  A dragon?

  What else? Heightened senses. Now that was something Griffen could relate to. Of course, up until now, he had always assumed that everyone else had the same powers of observation that he had, but never developed them or used them. Maybe he was something special.

  Leaning away from the wall, he stood still, trying to calm himself. He let his concentration go out of focus and stretched out his senses to “feel” the hotel around him. The task proving a focus for his calm. It was so easy to do and…

  There was someone outside the door of his room!

  Now that he was “listening,” Griffen could hear the minute sounds of breathing and clothes rustling in the hall. What was more, they weren’t passing by. They were just standing there.

  His first thought was that it was Mai, but he quickly discarded it. Mai would have simply used her key and come in, or, at least, knocked. Besides, it didn’t sound like Mai. It sounded like someone who was trying hard not to be heard.

  He never even considered the possibility that it might be someone random trying to remember their room number. With all the other weird stuff that had happened today, that would be too much of a coinci
dence.

  No, someone was specifically trying to check up on him. But who? Other than Mai, who knew where he was staying? Malcolm had never even asked. The senator! Or, for that matter, the two so-called bodyguards.

  Or worse? Griffen suddenly realized, he only knew of three that seemed to be watching him, but how many knew of him? He wouldn’t have known about the senator if he hadn’t been summoned into the limo. Was this another party interested in the new dragon? Another recruitment attempt?

  Or one of the ones who thought recruitment was too risky?

  He had sudden visions of someone waiting outside with a gun. Or maybe just teeth and flaming breath. Terror and absurdity and indignation all flared up in him suddenly. He was torn between a sudden fear of opening the door, and a burning desire to confront whoever was out there and settle things once and for all.

  And, like a dam breaking, all emotions eased away into sudden calm.

  They had left.

  As he had weighed the pluses and minuses of his choices, his senses had still been tracking the figure. Whoever it was seemed to have moved off while he was sorting out what to do. The threat, real or imagined, was gone. His body had relaxed accordingly.

  Moving to the door, he first checked the crack of light showing under the entrance, but could see nothing. Cracking the door, he looked out cautiously, then boldly stuck his head into the hall. The corridor was empty. Whoever it had been had vanished completely.

  Closing the door, Griffen turned the night lock, then put on the security bar for an added safeguard. His hand shook slightly, and he realized he wasn’t all that calm after all. At this point, he wasn’t even going to try to pretend that he wasn’t spooked.

  Turning away, his foot hit something on the floor. It was a small piece of paper, possibly a note or an advertisement had been slipped under his door. He felt another small wave of relief. That would explain why a stranger had approached his room.