Never Deal with a Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  His guard was waiting to escort him to the elevators. During the ride down to the lower levels, Sam reviewed the meeting. He felt sure there were levels of meaning that he had missed. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out the whys of the situation.

  Hanae was waiting for him in the Level 200 lobby. She stood quietly beyond the barrier while a samurai from the guard station adjusted the screamer attached to Sam’s wrist. It would alert security if he strayed from those portions of the arcology that had been deemed suitable for one of his position and security rating. He was forbidden the upper reaches until summoned again. As soon as he passed through the detector arch, Hanae, her face full of expectation, rushed up to him.

  “How did it go?”

  He did not want to disappoint her, but he had nothing to fulfill her hopes. “I am told that there will be periodic reports on Janice’s welfare. I may write letters to her as well, but I am not to complain any further. At least, I wasn’t forbidden to pray for her.”

  She searched his face. “You don’t really believe that the company will follow through, do you?”

  Sam said nothing. If Hanae had read enough in his face and stance to ask the question, she already knew the answer. She reached out to touch his cheek, then she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. Her warmth felt good.

  “I think you should talk to someone,” she suggested tentatively.

  “I don’t need a shrink.”

  She laughed nervously. “No, that’s not what I meant. I think you should talk to someone I met down in the public mall.”

  “Hanae, I’m really not in the mood for small talk with a stranger.” He had never found her friends of more than passing interest, and he just wanted to be alone.

  “You don’t have to do it now. Besides, I’d have to arrange a time anyway.”

  While the knowledge that an immediate meeting wasn’t in the offing was a relief, her comment raised his suspicions. “Who is this person?”

  Hanae nervously glanced around. “I’d rather not say her name here. She’s a...talent scout.”

  “I’m not going on trid.”

  “No. Not that kind. She’s corporate.”

  This was an interesting development. Talent scouts looked for dissatisfied employees who might be willing to switch corporations. Hanae was concerned enough to talk to a head hunter. Such an involvement was totally out of character for her; she was a loyal company person. He realized that he, too, was acting out of character. Here he was actually considering the possibility.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The mall was vibrant, full of sound, light, and life. After the ordered corridors of the private sectors of the arcology, Sam found that the sights, sounds, and smells of the public sections took some getting used to. The blare of the public trid screens was the worst of all, touting the latest products between reports of the latest corporate war or Urban Brawl game. He usually avoided coming to the extravaganza that rambled over the first five levels of the arcology, preferring the company malls and shops scattered throughout the living levels. There he was less reminded that he was denied travel outside the Renraku corporate world without a Renraku corporate escort.

  It wasn’t the crowds that bothered him. He found the people of Seattle intriguing and the mix of types exhilarating. Tourists included Asians, tribals from the surrounding Salish-Shidhe Council, corporates from all the local multinationals, UCAS citizens ranging from rich to street people, and even the occasional Elf, Dwarf, or group of Orks moved elbow to elbow in the thoroughfares. Before long, Sam’s discomfort faded as he relaxed and let himself become part of the crowd. Being in a group always seemed to comfort Sam, but of late that feeling had been rare.

  Upon first arriving at the arcology, he had made some forays into the metroplex of the outside world, but those trips soon became an exercise in isolation and frustration. Sam’s chaperones had made enjoyment impossible. People on the street were leery of approaching anyone with a Renraku guard escort, and the guards themselves were rarely good for conversation. After the first few weeks, he had given up on his outings, content to learn more about Seattle and its people from the Matrix, the trid, and travelogues.

  Hanae was walking by his side wearing wrap-around chrome sunglasses, an affectation in the filtered sunlight of the mall. Her hair was arranged differently, her blouse was new, and though he recognized her jeans, he knew that she rarely wore them. She was really getting into her role as an intriguer. He hoped her obvious ill-ease would not attract the attention of any of the strolling Raku guards.

  He had done nothing to disguise his identity. What would be the point as long as he wore the screamer on his right wrist? Any guard who cared to check in with the central security databanks would have his identity in a second. All they really had to rely on for privacy was the guard’s indifference to their “shopping trip.”

  Hanae had lobbied for a week to get him to accept a meeting with her mysterious new friend. Believing that any contact, however tentative, with an outside recruiter would be an irrevocable step, Sam had stalled. She had broken down his arguments one by one, and he had finally given in. Now, two days later, she had dragged him to the mall to meet the recruiter.

  Spray washed over them as the ventilation system sent a stray breeze in their direction. The dampness was a reminder that the waterfall was real and not just a dazzling example of special effects holography. The water cascaded from an opening concealed on the third level. The rushing torrent tumbled along huge quartz boulders from Madagascar, the rocks framed in lush tropical greenery that enhanced their translucent shine. The slope of the waterfall lessened near the first level, gentling the flow before it reached the lagoon park where Sam and Hanae walked. Tropical birds and insects flitted past, restrained from leaving the park area by their own inclinations as well as a subtle ultrasonic barrier at the park’s edge.

  Sam caught a glimpse of what he thought was a large-eyed monkey in one tree. The creature’s swaying movements soon convinced him otherwise. It stopped on one limb and turned its gaze in his direction. Its eyes were huge, dark, and liquid. The eyes caught and held his attention with their compelling stare. After a moment, Sam realized he was no longer looking into those eyes. The animal was gone. He searched the trees but could find no sign of it. When he told Hanae about it, she laughed.

  “A ghost lemur. They say there are several of them in the park, but I’ve never seen one. They’re magical, you know.”

  How could he not know? The creature had vanished before his eyes. He shuddered with distaste. Every time magic touched his life, it had been something awful.

  Hanae led him away from the place he had seen the mysterious animal. They strolled over the bridge that spanned the lagoon tank and onto the walkway along the surface of the coral reef environment. The peace of the park was reasserting itself when Hanae abruptly grabbed his arm and started dragging him along the path. Ahead of them was the entrance to the Coral Cafe, a popular restaurant whose sublevel seating offered a window onto the submerged coral reef.

  “Over here,” Hanae insisted. “That’s her.”

  The woman Hanae pointed out was stunning. From her platinum hair to her gold-studded black leather boots, she was a vision from the next issue of Mode Moderne. Her clothes were cutting edge, but they were only a setting for the jewel of the woman herself. She was tall and slim and moved with sensual grace.

  A gold Renraku ID flashed on the flaring collar of her long, flowing vest, but Sam didn’t believe for a moment that it was legitimate. As they approached, she brushed back the long fall of hair that hung over her right shoulder. For a fleeting instant, the motion revealed a delicately pointed ear.

  Sam had not expected an Elf. Elves were the Metahumans most common in the corporations, but that still made them rare and few were in positions of responsibility.

  It all made sense now. Her slimness and height, the delicacy of her features—all characteristic of that branch of Metahumanity known as Elven. He wondered how old sh
e was. Once an Elf reached early maturity, he or she showed little visible signs of aging, so she might actually be only about twenty, as she appeared. On the other hand, she might have been one of the first babies from the Year of Chaos, which would make her about forty years old.

  Doctors around the world had invoked Unexplained Genetic Expression Syndrome to account for the births of strange children to ordinary parents. But UGE was just a name for something that they didn’t understand. When it became clear that the children were growing up to look so much like the Elves of fairy tales, the scientists clung to their ugly name for the beautiful children. The new generation weren’t fairies, of course, but that didn’t stop the popular press from applying mythical names to them. Those names stuck, but the children dubbed Elves and Dwarfs were still people, new and sudden subspecies of homo sapiens to be sure, but Humans still. Some people didn’t believe that, denying that Metahumans of any kind were people. It was an attitude Sam never understood. Even with all his father’s railing against the “claptrap of this Sixth World magic nonsense,” the elder Verner had acknowledged Metahumans as “biologically sound expressions of genes.” Sam had never found pointed ears and white hair to be any more non-Human than black or red skin.

  All such thoughts fled as the woman turned to face them and Hanae performed the introductions.

  “Sam, this is Katherine Roe. She’s the one I wanted you to meet.”

  “Telegit thelemsa,” he greeted her.

  “Siselle. Thelemsa-ha.” She laughed lightly. “Your pronunciation is excellent, Sam, but, please, let’s speak English. You wouldn’t want to embarrass me in public, would you?”

  “How so?”

  “Other than those who grew up in an enclave, very few Elves actually speak the language. We are all children of our culture, after all.”

  “I only meant to be friendly,” Sam muttered apologetically. “It’s about all the Sperethiel I know.”

  “And I chided you for it. Now see, you have embarrassed me.” Roe’s face flashed her chagrin momentarily. Then the smile returned. “How do you come to know any Sperethiel?”

  “Oh, Sam knows lots of things, Katherine. He’s one of the corporation’s best researchers.”

  Sam felt his face flush at Hanae’s enthusiasm. To Roe’s raised eyebrow, he said, “I’m told that I have a rather good memory.”

  “Certainly an asset for a researcher,” Roe agreed.

  “An asset for anyone,” Hanae asserted. “I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about, so I’m going to get some shopping done. Two o’clock in front of Lordstrung’s?” she asked.

  He nodded and she kissed him on the cheek and left. Roe conducted him inside the Coral Cafe, where she had a table waiting. She did not take long getting to the point.

  “I may be able to help you out.”

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  “Caution is certainly advisable, Sam. You don’t know me, but I know quite a bit about you.” Her face was earnest as she reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “ I’m going to have to tell you things in trust, but you seem to be the kind of man who knows how to keep a secret.”

  She waited for his response. Sam hesitated. Her concern and sincerity seemed to be more than mere show. Still, he felt the need for wariness. “I can’t promise discretion without knowing what you’re talking about.”

  Sam read relief and satisfaction in her smile.

  “That’s the answer of a man who takes his word seriously,” she said. “All right. If you think anything I say will compromise you, then go tell your bosses. But what will they think of someone who consorts with a villain like me?”

  The lightness of her tone did nothing to lessen Sam’s sudden concern. If his association with Roe were known, there would be repercussions. All his nebulous fears about official sanction would become definite reality. “They would not take it well at all.”

  “I’m not going to tell them. Why should you?” When he said nothing to that, she continued. “I’ll leave out all the names. That should absolve your fears about having to report anything. Besides, this sort of thing happens all the time. Don’t you ever watch Confessions of a Company Man?”

  “I watch very little trid. I especially avoid fiction.”

  “Fiction?” she exclaimed quietly. “Confessions is all true. They tell you so at the beginning of each episode.”

  “If it’s real, why don’t any of the corporations mentioned ever appear on the world stock exchanges?”

  “Why, you’re right. You’ve shattered my illusions,” Roe declared with mock seriousness.

  “Somehow I doubt that.” She was trying to set him at ease and Sam was beginning to like her.

  She smiled, dismissing her frivolity, but then her expression quickly became sober. “Seriously, though, my associate, Mr. Drake, and I are already arranging for an extraction. It would be little additional trouble to take you out at the same time.”

  “I don’t know your principals. How do I know I want to work for them?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that you and this Mr. Drake are doing this out of the goodness of your hearts?” Sam asked skeptically.

  “Of course not,” Roe smiled confidently. “We’ve got an angle just like everybody else. Our principals are paying the freight for the extraction. If we add you to it without telling them, you’re out for free. Then Mr. Drake and I work with you to get a corporate placement in another city, say, San Francisco. Once we arrange a nice new home for you, we get a finder’s fee from the corporation you join. It’s practically free credit.”

  “I won’t compromise Renraku,” Sam said.

  “You won’t have to. We’ll put it into the hiring contract. It’ll make the sale go a little harder, but it’s not impossible. You may have to settle for a slight drop in your standard of living.”

  Sam suddenly realized that he had made his decision and was in the process of implementing it. The future was opening up. “If I can get on with my life, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  “Not so fast. I want to meet this Mr. Drake.”

  She hesitated, but Sam thought that it was just for effect. “Sure. I set up a meet for as soon as you can get away.”

  “I thought Hanae told you that I can’t leave the arcology without a guard.” He tapped the continuous plastic band that encircled his wrist. Fine wires and flat chips could be discerned through the translucent surface of the screamer. “This will alert security should I trespass beyond the boundaries encoded in its memory. It cannot be removed without setting off an alarm, and the Renraku Security Directorate controls the off switch. Your Mr. Drake will have to come here.”

  “No good,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “The big guy can’t come in. You’ll have to wait until you’re out to meet him.”

  From the hardening of her manner, Sam sensed the matter was not negotiable. “That’s not reassuring.”

  “Do you want out or not?”

  He did. He had walked too far down this path to turn back now. He just wasn’t sure that this was the best way. “Let me think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long,” she warned. “I’ve got a schedule to meet.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Is it time?”

  “No.”

  “But I’m getting hungry.” Petulance accompanied the statement.

  “Soon, Tessien.”

  Rainbow plumes rustled, colorless in Hart’s night vision as she watched the serpent settle its coils. With its wings folded against its side and the great fanged head tucked under the left pinion, it soon resembled nothing more than an uneven pile of feathers. It was hardly camouflage. In the lane between warehouses of United Oil’s docking facility on Puget Sound, such a pile was even more out of place than a dracoform.

  For all its uncharacteristic impatience, Tessien was a dracoform, one of a variety of creatures that laid claim to the powers of legendary Dragon
s. It—Hart was unsure of the beast’s gender—was of a type known as a feathered serpent, the most common of the greater dracoforms in the western hemisphere. Stretched out, it would measure ten meters of feather-scaled muscle and its wingspan matched its length. Tessien was a dangerous beast, and had been her partner for four years of shadow business.

  She almost trusted it.

  A soft beep from the box in her jacket pocket alerted her that someone had broken one of the sensor beams she had placed earlier that evening. A second beep of a different tone told her the vector on which the target was moving. She slipped her hand into her pocket to silence the receiver. Its sound could betray them before they sprang the ambush. Any additional information the sensor could give wasn’t worth that.

  She glanced at the mirror she had propped across the lane to give her a view toward the main warehouse. Four figures were running away from the building, headed toward Hart and Tessien’s position. From their silhouettes, she judged them to be shadowrunners. Three men and a woman. A faint jingling came from the leader as amulets and talismans swayed and clashed on his chest, marking him either as a mage or a very superstitious fellow.

  The faint sounds were drowned out as a group of United Oil security men poured from the warehouse. The slap of their boots pounding on the concrete covered the noise made by the fleeing intruders, but that rhythmic sound was soon overwhelmed by the screeches of the brace of cockatrices they loosed on their prey.

  Cockatrices were an avian paraspecies favored for security work because the animal’s touch could shock its prey’s nervous system into collapse, paralyzing an intruder for easy arrest by the paranormal’s handler. Of course, the handler must pull the cockatrice away before it dined on the helpless victim, but the multinationals didn’t worry much about a few trespassers unavoidably mauled or killed. It made for less trespassers. These paranimals were eager, flapping their stubby wings and pumping their long legs as they devoured the ground separating them from the shadowrunners.