Jewels of the Dragon

by Allen Wold

  "I thought Kohltri had lots of secrets," Rikard said.

  "Perhaps it does, but this one is special. Humans aren't the only people who live here."

  "I haven't seen anybody but humans."

  "You won't see the Atreef very often, but there are almost as many of them in the city as there are human people. Their city interpenetrates the human city at many places, and there is some communication between the two species, but not much."

  "Atreef. I've heard of them, I think."

  "It's possible. They're not a major species, in numbers, culture, technology, or history, but they're interesting. They have their own ways, which are different from ours, of course, but they're not incompatible with human psychology."

  "Come to think of it, I think I may have seen one once." He told her about the time he'd glimpsed what he'd thought was two people in one set of clothes.

  "Yes, that was an Atreef. They don't often cross the human streets."

  "But where do they live?"

  "These big blocks of buildings are only a shell. The Atreef live in the areas inside. They have their own buildings, their own community superimposed over ours, but as separate from it as white squares are from black on a chessboard.

  "And that's not a bad analogy. If the human parts of the city are the black squares, we're like bishops who can't ever travel on the white. But we're going to change colors today."

  "It sounds fascinating, but why?"

  "Because while no Atreef live in the human part of the city, a number of humans live in the Atreef part, people who have fled the human society of Kohltri in fear of their lives."

  "Why aren't they just followed?"

  "As I said, it's a secret—of sorts. Not many people re­member the Atreef are here. The few times they are seen, they are wondered about, then forgotten again.

  "You see, when Kohltri was founded, it was intended to be an experiment in bispecies coexistence. But it didn't work. No matter how hard the managers tried to get the two peoples to live together and so on, they just drifted apart. At last the experiment was abandoned, and only the mines kept anybody interested in coming here.

  "Then, about five hundred standard years ago, the first Boss came. Kohltri was a backwoods, out-of-the-way planet, and he holed up until the heat died down. Only he liked the place and stayed on. His successor made the first arrangement with the station director of that time. And in short order the criminal refuge we find here now had evolved. And because the criminals here are not out messing around in the rest of the Federation, it's tacitly allowed to continue."

  "What did you do, a study of this place?"

  "Nothing less. I first came here because of the Belshpaer ruins out in the wilderness. But what I found here in the city fascinated me as much, if not more. And besides, most of the ruins.have been picked over already, and those that haven't been are awfully hard to get to."

  "So you gave that up and researched the present population instead. Didn't Solvay give you a hard time?"

  "He did, so I went elsewhere. I found the planet where the experiment was designed and did my work there. And prowled around down here, when I knew better how the system worked. The records are pretty good up to about four hundred years ago, even if they're hard to find."

  "Well, as a Local Historian to an archaeologist, may I congratulate you on your research. And we're going to visit this alternate society, the one left over after the bispecies experiment failed?"

  "That's right. If your father is alive and hiding among the Atreef, nobody out in the human part of the city would know it, but certain of the Atreef would. Now remember, they know about us and don't completely approve. They're generally nonviolent, but can be big trouble if you mess up."

  "Okay, I'll just follow your lead."

  "Real good. Now up this alley, and keep calm."

  They passed between close-set buildings, turned a corner, and emerged at one end of a narrow street. It was, in many ways, similar to the one they'd just left. The walls fronting it were blank faced, possibly enclosing courtyards. But the buildings weren't as tall, and they were made of plastic instead of glass and steel and porcelain. The corners were all rounded. Everything was white and bright and smooth and clean. And Atreef—built like four-armed centaurs with a squashed-in horse's body and looking very much like two people in one set of brightly colored clothes—walked every­where.

  The street was closed off at the other end too and was intersected at the middle by a cross street. As they walked to the corner, Rikard allowed himself to gape at the Atreef pedestrians.

  The Atreef were much the same height as humans, but a lot bulkier to accommodate four arms, two front and two back. Their four legs were close set on a short lower body. They walked on their toes, like dogs or rashteks, and wore shoes.

  It was easy to tell the males from the females, though they both wore pants and shirts. The Atreef women were well endowed with four breasts.

  Like humans, they were hairless except on the head, but the males were beardless. Their skin colors were generally warm, from pale yellow-cream through oranges and terracottas to deep Tuscan reds. But skin color did not seem to be the mark of separate races, as it tended to be in humans.

  Neither was their hair color a racial characteristic. It was much like human hair, except that occasionally it had a bluish tone.

  Their faces were round, bluntly prognathous, yet remarkably humanlike. They had no tails. Rikard had half expected that they would. Their eyes, when they looked at him, and they frequently did, were blues, violets, black, very wide and attractive. They smiled a lot and showed lots of carnivore teeth. They had five fingers and a thumb on each hand.

  Their clothes were brilliant, many-colored, and covered a range of styles broader than Rikard had seen anywhere. They stood out brightly against the stark white of the buildings.

  "Is there a party going on?" Rikard asked.

  "No, it just seems that way. They take things a lot less seriously than we do."

  They reached the intersection. The ends of the cross street ended in cul-de-sacs just like the one they were on. Each end had only a narrow, crooked alley continuing. Darcy turned them to the right and across the street.

  "There are little exes like this, inside almost every block of human buildings," she said. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

  "It is, very. They don't seem to fear us."

  "They don't. Nobody's ever killed an Atreef and lived to tell about it."

  They entered a courtyard, as bright and white as the street. Unlike human courtyards, there were no plants here. But when they went on through a side door into an anteroom, they entered a different environment altogether.

  It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dimness. The air was delicately perfumed, and the scent changed mo­ment by moment. When he could see again, Rikard saw that color was everywhere, in the deep carpets, the rich hangings, the pictures, in the enameled woodwork which was all hand carved in ornate realistic and geometric patterns.

  "We are going to meet," Darcy said softly, "one of the few Atreef who has adopted human ways. He is very touchy about it, so be careful. The Troishla is a child's playground compared with this place. But you won't see a hint of it."

  2

  They waited in the dimness. After a few moments a male Atreef came through an inner door and greeted them. His voice was soft and melodious.

  "We'd like to speak with Dzhergriem," Darcy said.

  "Dzhergriem no longer lives here."

  "I hadn't heard. I apologize for the intrusion, but perhaps you could give us his new address?"

  "I'm sorry but I cannot. If you know Dzhergriem, then you know he likes privacy. Most unfortunate, but true. And as I have no connection with his 'business,' I wouldn't know where to direct you. He left these premises a year ago."

  "I see. Thank you very much for your time."

  The Atreef inclined his head and watched them go. Rikard did not know how to read his expression, but he got the distinct imp
ression that the Atreef had been relieved by their quick departure.

  "He doesn't approve of us," Rikard said when they were back on the bright white street.

  "Not at all. None of these people do. But they'll tolerate us. The Atreef who have become like Kohltri's human citi­zens, however, will not tolerate anything."

  "Okay, so what do we do now?"

  "Try to find Dzhergriem. He smuggles drugs, for sale in the human part of the city mostly, and is a particularly nasty character, but he keeps in touch with everything in the human city, as well as the Atreef parts. If we can find him, we should be able to talk to him, and he'll know something, that's for sure."

  "Do we go knocking on doors?"

  "More or less, but not around here. These are all law-abiding citizens, and want to have less to do with Dzhergriem than with us."

  "What if that guy back there was just giving us the brush-off?"

  "Then we'll come back when we find out, and he won't do it again." It wasn't a threat, just a statement of fact.

  They walked to the end of the short street, through a narrow, crooked alley, and back out into the human city.

  "Are all the Atreef enclaves accessed in the same way?" Rikard asked.

  "More or less. But they don't like sightseers."

  "It's too bad the bispecies experiment didn't work."

  "I agree. But I guess we're none of us really ready for that kind of thing yet."

  They spent two hours going from one place to another. Rikard let Darcy do the talking. At each place her approach was different. Sometimes she asked about Dzhergriem out­right. Sometimes she just asked if she could get some Py-rodoxine or some other drug. But the answers were all the same, in effect. Nobody knew.

  At noon they took a break for lunch in a little restaurant halfway to the edge of the city. As they were finishing, two large men came up and sat down at their booth, effectively blocking them in against the wall.

  "You've been asking for Dzhergriem," the one next to Darcy said.

  "That's right," she answered. Her gun was between her and the man next to her, so she couldn't have drawn it if she had wanted to. "Can you tell us how to reach him?"

  "We could," the man next to Rikard said, "but we'd rather you didn't do business with him."

  "I'd rather we did, but maybe you could serve us just as well."

  "Of course we can. You want Pyrodoxine? We got it, good stuff too. Put you out like a light, no hangover. You want Malixa? We got it. Prettiest pictures you ever saw, and you can still walk around in public. And we got good prices too."

  "The only thing that bothers me," Darcy said calmly, "is why Dzhergriem lets you deal."

  "Hey, listen," the man next to Rikard said, "he's a busy man. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

  "So I figured. Okay, here's what I want. Arin Braeth."

  "What's that?"

  "It's a him, not a what. If you don't know, you can't help us. That's all. Good-bye."

  "Now hold on," the man next to Darcy said, "you want some dope or not?"

  "Not. I want Arin Braeth. Dzhergriem might know where he is. You don't. Good-bye."

  "I don't like games," the man next to Rikard said.

  Without even thinking about it, Rikard reached down between the man's legs and grabbed hard. He drew his megatron with his left hand and pointed it at the other man, the end of the barrel just centimeters from his forehead. The man who's genitals he was squeezing went white and gasped, his hands fluttering on the tabletop. The other man went red and didn't move a muscle.

  "And I," Rikard said softly, "I don't like games either. So who's first? Balls or brains, it makes no difference to me." He squeezed a little harder and touched the other man on the bridge of the nose with the gun barrel. He felt absolutely calm, his mind perfectly clear.

  Darcy pulled her own gun and pointed the laser at the face of the man across from her. Rikard let go but kept his gun steady.

  "Okay," he said, "since it comes down to this, let's get our trouble's worth. You know how to get to Dzhergriem?"

  "Yeah," the man across from him said. The one beside him was still trying to catch his breath. "He's in the Blue Rose, between Varo and Nelsh, north side."

  "Nice of you to keep such close tabs," Rikard said. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You two are going to get up and walk out the door. You will not turn around or you will die and I don't care what kind of armor you're wearing. Understand?"

  They both nodded, then got up from the booth and walked out. There was some soft jeering as they left. One of the patrons shouted, "Good work, kid."

  "Very good indeed," Darcy said, putting her gun away. "I'd almost think you didn't need my help any more."

  "Nonsense." Rikard holstered his own gun and let his hands shake a moment on top of the table. "I just acted on impulse." He was surprised at how easy it had been and at how quickly he had acted "And I guess that kind of thing wouldn't work with Dzhergnem, would it?"

  "Not at all" She put one hand on his two clenched hands and felt him shake. "No, I guess you still need me after all." She smiled warmly. "Shall we go see if the old boy is at home?"

  "Might as well. I'm not going to calm down if I sit here and think about what just happened." And yet, he felt deeply satisfied. In spite of his reaction now, he had enjoyed his dominance of the situation.

  They left the booth. Rikard paid for the meal, and they went back out on the street.

  On Blue Rose Street, in the middle of the block between Varo and Nelsh, on the north side, was a narrow passage between buildings. They entered cautiously, ready for an am­bush, but the crooked alley just opened onto the end of a short Atreef street, as usual.

  Darcy stopped the first four-legged pedestrian and spoke one word, "Dzhergriem."

  The Atreef woman looked them up and down with large violet eyes and made a face which Rikard interpreted as distaste. "Last court on your right, at the corner," she said, and hurriedly moved away.

  "She didn't like us one little bit," Rikard said as they walked toward the court entrance.

  "Not at all, and I don't blame her. People who do business with Dzhergriem aren't nice people."

  There were three doors off the court. One was a clothing store, another was a shop for some kind of merchandise Rikard couldn't identify. The third had curtained windows. They went in there. Beyond was a dim anteroom, as richly furnished as the other one they had tried.

  "Is this typical?" Rikard asked as they waited for their eyes to adjust.

  "Very. They care little for outward appearance—except their clothes, of course—but put great value on the luxury of their dwelling places inside."

  "Do they work the mines too?"

  "No, they don't. They are an isolated society on this planet, and don't have any offworld trade that I know of. I couldn't guess what their economic basis is."

  After a moment or two, an inner door opened and an Atreef woman came out to meet them She said nothing, but waited for them to speak first.

  "We'd like to talk with Dzhergriem," Darcy said

  "If you'll tell me your business," the Atreef responded, "perhaps I could help you."

  "We're looking for information, not drugs."

  "Please continue."

  "A man came to Kohltri about twelve years ago, and after something over half a year disappeared. I think Dzhergriem might have known him, or known of him. I'm hoping he'll be able to tell us whether this man is still living, and if so where he might be now."

  "I see. It is possible. Would you care to entrust me with this man's name?"

  "I'd rather not, if it is possible to speak with Dzhergriem personally."

  "Would you be willing to pay a fee?"

  "Yes, within certain limits."

  "One moment, please." The Atreef woman went back to the other room and closed the door behind her.

  "Very polite," Rikard commented.

  "All the more reason to be on your guard. Remember what I told you about his being sensitive a
bout adopting human ways."

  They had to wait only a moment, and then the inner door opened again and the Atreef woman beckoned them to enter. This inner room was as pleasant and luxurious as the outer one, and furnished with stools with strange backs and seats made to accommodate the Atreef's four-leggedness. There were also a couple of comfortable-looking human-type chairs.

  "You will not be required to leave your weapons," she said, "but I must caution you, if you are not already aware, that to draw them will bring an automatic response." She wore no gun herself; none of the Atreef Rikard had seen had. He could only assume there were weapons concealed in the walls.

  The Atreef woman opened another door. "Follow me, please," she told them.

  They went through into a corridor, at the end of which was a stairway leading down. It turned twice before ending in another hallway.

  "This is Belshpaer work," Darcy said, examining the odd plastic of the walls. It was the same material as the "stone" Rikard had stumbled over behind the Troishla, vaguely translucent, pale ocher and yellow.

  "It is," their guide said. 'Their ruins underlie much of the city."

  After about ten meters, the corridor turned a sixty-degree angle to the left. A few steps more took them through a tall, wide doorway, also on the left, into a hexagonal room.

  "The Belshpaer were trilaterally symmetric," Darcy com­mented. "I believe all their rooms were hexagonal."

  "That is correct," the Atreef woman said. "You know something of the Belshpaer?"

  "A little. I'm an archaeologist."

  "And this man you seek, he is a part of your archaeological business?"

  "I'm afraid not. It's another matter altogether."

  They passed through two more hexagonal rooms of different sizes and into an irregular tunnel. It was roughly circular in section, and had been cut into the rock around them.

  "Did you build this?" Rikard asked.

  "No, we did not. We don't know who did. It was excavated after the Belshpaer, and there are other tunnels like it, but we don't know their origin."