A Covenant of Justice (10 page)

“That part, I don't understand,” Lee admitted.

“Falling in battle carries no stain,” explained Three-Dollar. “The Dragon Lord had clearly made his choice. He had already stepped into his rage. Stopping a Dragon in his tracks, killing it or stunning it, does not stain the Dragon. It gives great credit to the rival without taking anything away from the warrior. When Sawyer fired, he elevated himself in the Dragons' eyes—and us, by association—from annoying nuisances to courageous opponents. Thus the felling of the Dragon Lord does not stain him with the same disgrace as if he'd simply let us go.”

Lee considered that for a moment.

Now Sawyer added a thought of his own, “The Dragon Lord
wanted
me to fire. He meant his refusal to take off his armor as a direct challenge. He
needed
us to elevate ourselves in his esteem so he could avoid his disgrace.”

“But what about what you said a moment ago? About us having help?”

“The Dragon Lord needs us to look ferocious,” Sawyer explained. “So he has to let us run wild for a while. This will alarm the Vampires. It will terrify them that humans can so openly thwart their authority. They will demand that the Dragon Lord act. Perhaps they will even expand his authority—at the expense of their own.

“I have no intention of disappointing the Dragon Lord. At this moment, it serves us to serve his purpose. But also I have no illusions about his ultimate goals either. As soon as our freedom brings no more advantage to him, he'll squash us like mice. Our best hope lies in having him underestimate our ability to elude his forces. We shall demonstrate just enough cleverness to serve his purpose—enough cleverness to demonstrate our ferocity, but no more than that, lest we cause him undue concern or alarm.”

Three-Dollar looked amused. “I see. And how much cleverness do you expect we'll need to demonstrate?”

“As much as we have and at least ten times more than that,” Sawyer grinned. “We'll probably have to work overtime.”

“Your contract doesn't allow for overtime, tracker.”

“We don't get paid by the hour, TimeBinder. We get paid for producing results.”

“Ahh,” said William Three-Dollar, nodding in satisfaction. Abruptly, he raised a finger in concern. “Wait—” he said, a sudden thought occurring to hm. “What happens if you overestimate how much cleverness you'll need?”

Sawyer shook his head sadly. “We'll just have to take that risk, won't we?”

The shuttleboat dived through the outermost ring of Burihatin, ejected a wrapped package and abruptly changed course. The package continued along the shuttleboat's original course.

Several hours later, the first of the pursuing Marauders caught up with the ejected package, matched trajectories, carefully scanned the suspicious object, and finally brought it aboard. A few moments later, after examining the contents of the package, the pilot of the Marauder sent a coded message back to
The Golden Fury
. “The ejected package contained one of the boat's locater beacons—and the body of its copilot.”

Several hours after that, the shuttleboat veered upward through the rings of Burihatin again. It ejected a second wrapped package, and changed course again. The package continued along the previous course.

When the next pursuing Marauder caught up with and intercepted this package, a similar result occurred. The coded message sent back said, “The ejected object contained one of the boat's backup locater beacons—and the body of its astrogator.”

Several hours later, the shuttleboat again dived below the planet's rings. Again, it ejected an object and changed course.

Eventually, a third Marauder matched trajectories with this package and brought it aboard. “The object contained the body of the boat's pilot and the second backup locator. In addition, we found a message from the rebels attached. It says, and we quote, ‘Recall all pursuers or the next package will contain the body of Lady Zillabar, the cannibal.'”

On the bridge of
The Golden Fury
, this message provoked significant consternation among the Phaestor crew. The Dragon Lord, however, remained unfazed. “They don't dare,” he remarked. “We still have them on our probability displays. We still track their course. If we gave the order to intercept, the Marauders could still catch them. This vessel could intercept them. If they kill the Lady, we will have them at our mercy within hours. This message—I don't believe it. They bluff.”

“How can you have such certainty?” Commander ‘Ga Lunik asked with temerity.

“I know humans. They don't think like Dragons. They don't think like Vampires. They fear death. They will do anything to avoid death or injury. They will fight for life even after life becomes hopeless and death becomes inevitable. They don't know how to die with honor. These humans . . . they have some courage, they certainly have a wild ferocity that deserves respectful caution on our part, and they have a surprising cleverness that does their species honor—but I do not think that they have the strength of Dragons when it comes to facing death. I believe that they will try to prolong their lives as long as possible.”

The Dragon Lord turned to Commander ‘Ga Lunik. “Tell your Marauders to keep tracking, but to continue to maintain discretionary distance.”

“But, my Lord, they'll see the Marauders on their displays.”

“I expect them to. We need to show them that we didn't believe them, that they have no ability to fool us. Remember this, Commander ‘Ga Lunik, youth and enthusiasm has no chance against age and treachery—especially when the youth and enthusiasm comes from short-lived humans and the age and treachery comes from an ancient Dragon.”

“Yes, m'Lord. Thank you for the blessing of your wisdom.”

The Dragon Lord grinned in appreciation. He rather liked the sound of that acknowledgment, especially as it came from the mouth of a Phaestor Commander. If only he could train the rest of the cannibalistic breed to such
politesse
.

Several hours later, his voice trembling with emotion, Commander ‘Ga Lunik requested the presence of the Dragon Lord on the bridge. The Dragon Lord lumbered heavily along the wide corridors of Lady Zillabar's space-going palace, once again reminding himself how much he hated the Phaestoric self-indulgence and extravagance.

When he reached the bridge, Commander ‘Ga Lunik led him to the large strategic display. He pointed at a blinking red dot coursing upward away from inner ring of Burihatin.

“What does that dot represent?” the Dragon Lord asked suspiciously.

“My Lord, I regret to inform you that the scarlet indicator represents the position locater implanted in Lady Zillabar's own personage.”

The Dragon Lord scratched himself thoughtfully. “We can pick it up at this range?”

Commander ‘Ga Lunik nodded. “If they have attached an amplifier—not a hard thing to do—the signal could travel for many light-days.”

“Hm,” said the Dragon Lord thoughtfully. “I wonder if you haven't miscalculated, my young Captain. Perhaps they've killed the Lady after all. How unfortunate for you to have such a short inglorious career.”

“My Lord? The log will show that you advised me of this course of action. I followed your orders—”

“I should like to see you present that as a defense at your trial. I have always understood it that the Phaestoric aristocracy only gives orders, never takes them.” He lumbered out, grinning.

Commander ‘Ga Lunik stared after the departing Dragon. He mouthed a silent curse. Then he turned back to his waiting First Officer and ordered, “Tell the Marauders to intercept the object.”

Sawyer and Lee stood over the medical cabinet containing Zillabar's still-unconscious form, studying Three-Dollar's handiwork and grinning. The Lady would not only have a small scar under her right arm, but in the mirror it would appear as a TimeBinder's symbol: a circle with a sine wave across its center.

“I know that I display a foolish regression to infantile emotionalism to admit this,” Three-Dollar said, “but I regret only that I could not have left the scar in the middle of her forehead. It would have represented an enjoyable demonstration of karmic justice. Ah, well,” he sighed.

Among the many memories and experiences contained within the TimeBinder's headband, the skills of several brilliant surgeons remained vivid. William Three-Dollar had artfully removed the Lady's implanted locater chip, connected it to an amplifier, wrapped it up with forty kilos of Vampire food—things no sane human would eat—and jettisoned the package before their last course change.

By now, the boat had gone more than two-thirds of the way around Burihatin's circumference, in a zigzag course that still led inevitably toward the fourteenth moon. On the display, the course looked like the long way around, but Sawyer had a method for his madness. If he had guessed right, they had lost or confused most of their pursuit by now.

“We've found them all then, right? We have no more locater beacons aboard?” Lee asked.

Three-Dollar nodded. “To the best of my knowledge.”

“And mine,” agreed Sawyer. “I've scanned this boat, searched its programs, had system analysis look for all transmitters, audited all programming, and listened to six impossible hunches.” He allowed himself a rueful grin. “If we have any more locators still aboard, they've earned the right to stay.”

“In other words,” said Lee, concerned. “We may still have a squad of Marauders on our tail?”

Sawyer nodded. “Perhaps—”

“How can you say that so coolly?” Lee's anger came up sharply. “Perhaps the Dragon Lord expects us to lead him to the TimeBinder of Burihatin. Maybe we missed a locater. Perhaps it only broadcasts intermittently. Maybe the Marauders only veered off to fool us into thinking that our plan has succeeded.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Three-Dollar. He put a calming hand on Lee-1169's shoulder. “And perhaps not. We'll know soon enough. We've already committed ourselves to this plan. We have to wait and see how it develops.”

Sawyer scratched his head thoughtfully, then looked to Lee. “I agree with you that paranoia drives the Vampire thinking, but I honestly don't think they would have prepared every shuttleboat on the Lady's Imperial Starship for this kind of situation. The Phaestor have too much arrogance to seriously consider the possibility that someone could capture a hostage on
The Golden Fury
and use one of their own boats to escape. No,” he concluded. “I doubt that the Vampires thought to prepare for this circumstance.”

“And what if you've figured this whole thing wrong?” demanded Lee.

“Then you'll get a full refund,” replied Sawyer. “What else do you want? What else can I give you?”

Lee slammed himself back in his seat, disgusted. Sawyer shrugged at his reaction. He looked to Three-Dollar.

The memories of a thousand years usually confer a good degree of wisdom on the wearer of the TimeBand. Three-Dollar chose not to get involved. Instead, he replied, “We need to choose a landing site. We still have four hours before we obtain orbit around Fourteen.” He tapped his headband. “I've tried several times to contact the TimeBinder of Burihatin. I'll keep trying, but I haven't picked up any response.”

“Don't worry,” said Sawyer. “We'll find the TimeBinder of Burihatin. We'll find him before the Lady does, I can promise you that.” His face became serious. “I think I know a man who can save Finn. If anyone can, Dr. M'bele can—if we can find him. But he hates the Vampires as much as anyone, and he willingly serves anyone else who shares that hatred. So . . . maybe he can also help us find your missing TimeBinder.”

Three-Dollar looked grim. “We don't even know if the missing TimeBinder still lives.”

“Don't worry. We found Murdock. We found you. We'll find the TimeBand and anyone who's wearing it.” He allowed himself a bittersweet expression. “I always told Finn I could work faster without him. Now I guess I'll have to prove it.”

This time, Commander ‘Ga Lunik handled it differently.

He selected his most junior aide—a pale neuter boy so frail-looking that he seemed inadequate even to the task of carrying a simple message—and sent him back to the Dragon Lord's quarters bearing a casually scrawled note.

The Dragon Lord took the note from the aide, scowling in annoyance. He unfolded it clumsily and held it up before his tiny black eyes. In Phaestoric script—not Dragon—the note read: “I have information you may find interesting. At your convenience, I would appreciate your joining me on the bridge. Thank you. Commander ‘Ga Lunik.”

The Dragon Lord recognized the inherent insult. The boy. The note. The phrasing. Even the use of Phaestoric writing over Dragon script. Everything. He smiled inwardly. The child learned fast. Perhaps too fast.

Not a problem, he decided. The Dragon Lord looked down at the messenger, wondering if he should send him back with a reply or simply eat him. The latter action, of course, would represent extremely bad manners. On the other hand, considering the history of this whole voyage so far, the bizarre displays of the Lady and all the subsequent events that followed, the breach of etiquette that the accidental ingestion of a minor aide might represent, would cause only a lesser embarrassment when compared with all the other much larger breaches of etiquette so far. The Dragon Lord eyed the child suspiciously, decided that the meal looked neither attractive enough nor plump enough to justify the trouble it would cause, and allowed the Phaestor boy to return unharmed.

After a suitable delay—after several suitable delays, each one long enough to represent a specific insult to the Captain's authority—the Dragon Lord finally ambled out of his quarters and forward to the great bridge of the Lady's Imperial Starship,
The Golden Fury
.