Dragonback 04 Dragon and Herdsman

Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27

A light breeze was blowing softly through the streets of Avrans
City on the world of Bigelow, making the cold night air feel that much
colder. Huddled in a darkened doorway, Jack Morgan shifted restlessly
in his sleep, pressing himself a little deeper back against the ancient
stonework here at the edge of the city's Old Town.

Draycos, pressed in two-dimensional form against the boy's back,
arms, and legs, felt yet another shiver ripple through the skin beneath
him. Reflexively, he lifted himself slightly away from the skin,
turning part of himself three-dimensional. That would at least create a
thin insulating layer to protect Jack from the wont of the cold.

"Uh-uh," Jack murmured.

So he wasn't asleep after all. "Sorry," Draycos murmured back as
he lowered himself flat again. He was a poet-warrior of the K'da, and
part of his job was to protect his host as best he could. It bothered
him terribly that he hadn't been able to lift a claw to ease Jack's
discomfort these past few nights.

But as usual in these matters, Jack was right. If he was going to
play the part of a homeless street kid, he had to play the part
completely. Huddled against the night in the shadow of a mercenary
recruitment center, they couldn't take the chance that someone with
sharp eyes would notice something odd. And a fourteen-year-old boy
sleeping all warm and peaceful in thin shirt and slacks would
definitely be odd.

Shifting his position on Jack's skin, Draycos peered out through
the open shirt collar toward the recruitment center, a one-story white
building across the street and two doors down. If the pattern of the
past six nights was repeated, two men wearing the uniforms of the
Malison Ring mercenaries would arrive soon to get the center ready for
the morning's activities.

Three nights ago, Jack had begun shambling over to them as they
arrived, trying to beg some spare change. The men had, naturally, told
him to get lost. Last night one of them had added to the script by
aiming a kick at Jack's rear that had nearly connected.

Tonight, the script was going to change completely.

Draycos shifted his gaze back down the street, marveling yet again
at the delicious irony the universe had played. For the past three
months, ever since this unlikely partnership had been thrust upon them,
he had been trying to teach Jack the way of the K'da warrior. The way
of honor, and service, and trust.

It hadn't been easy. Jack had been raised by his uncle Virgil
since the age of three to be a thief and con man, taught to care only
about himself. The concept that there were standards of right and wrong
that didn't change with mood or situation was completely new to him.
But Draycos had kept at it, showing in both word and deed that a true
warrior tried always to do what was right, whether it gained him
anything or not.

Down deep, Draycos knew Jack had a good heart. But eleven years of
habit were hard to break.

Making it that much harder was the presence and influence of Uncle
Virge, the shadow personality that Uncle Virgil had left imprinted on
the
Essenay
's computer before he died a year ago. Uncle Virge
had the same me-first philosophy as the real Uncle Virgil, and he'd
been fighting Draycos's efforts every step of the way.

And then, even as Jack began making his first genuine progress in
the K'da way of thought, the universe had handed them a gift. In the
midst of Jack's ordeal as a slave on the planet Brum-a-dum, a small and
nearly forgotten act of mercy had unexpectedly paid off. It had paid
off big.

Now, at last, they had all the pieces of the puzzle. It was
members of the Malison Ring mercenary group who had intercepted and
destroyed Draycos's advance team of K'da and their symbiotic hosts, the
Shontine. They were working with the assistance and financial support
of the powerful Brummgan Chookoock family, with the whole conspiracy
under the direction of the renegade Arthur Neverlin, once
second-in-command of the megacorporation Braxton Universis.

And lurking behind them all were the Valahgua, the deadly enemies
whom the K'da and Shontine had left their homes to escape in the first
place.

Neverlin wanted to destroy Cornelius Braxton and take over Braxton
Universis. The Malison Ring and Chookoock family presumably wanted a
share of the plunder from the approaching refugee ships.

All of them wanted the K'da and Shontine dead. And unless Draycos
and Jack could find out where the refugee fleet was supposed to
rendezvous with the now-destroyed advance team, the Valahgua and their
allies were going to get their wish.

In the distance down the street, a pair of headlights winked into
view. "Here we go," Jack said. "Uncle Virge?"

"Ready at this end, Jack lad," the computerized voice replied from
the comm clip fastened out of sight beneath the boy's shirt collar.
Uncle Virge didn't sound exactly happy, but he sounded much less
frustrated than he had for most of the past three months. He hadn't
liked Jack signing up to be a soldier with the Whinyard's Edge
mercenary group. He'd absolutely hated the boy's brief taste of slavery.

This time, Jack was only going to have to be a thief. For him,
that would be like a walk in the park.

"Draycos?" Jack asked.

Again, the K'da shifted around on Jack's skin, slithering down his
right leg. He touched the two items stuffed into the boy's sock,
confirmed they were ready to grab and throw. "Set," he said.

"When I tap my toe," Jack reminded him, getting a little
unsteadily to his feet. Maneuvering himself to where he could peek out
from beneath the right-leg cuff of Jack's slacks, Draycos saw the
approaching car come to a halt in front of the Malison Ring office.
Still moving like someone weak from hunger, Jack headed across the
street.

The two men saw him coming, of course. "Oh, great," Draycos heard
one of them mutter.

"Spare coins, mister?" Jack asked as he reached them.

"Listen, kid—"

Inside his low boot, Jack tapped his toe.

Lifting one front paw slightly from Jack's ankle, Draycos plucked
the money clip from its hiding place inside Jack's sock. He flicked it
outward from beneath the cuff, sending it to land in the grass beside
the mercenary office door.

"—if you don't get out of my sight in the next
two seconds
—"

"Holy—" Jack broke off in a strangled gasp and started to duck
around behind the men.

He didn't get far. He'd barely made it around one man's side when
there was the sound of a hand on cloth and the boy was jerked to an
abrupt halt. "Hey, hey, hey," the mercenary growled. "Where do you
think
you're
going?"

"Hey, Chips," the other man said. "Look."

"I saw it first!" Jack snarled, and from the movement of his arms
Draycos could tell he was beating his fists weakly against his captor's
shoulder. "Get away. I saw it first."

"How much is in there?" Chips asked, ignoring both Jack's protests
and his attack as he dragged the boy over to where the other man was
examining the money clip.

"Gotta be at least three hundred," the other said. "Make that
four
hundred."

"It's mine," Jack insisted. "Come on—I saw it first."

"Don't be ridiculous," Chips said severely. "Four hundred auzes?
Somebody's gotta be missing this."

"It's got an ID plate," the other man said. "Shouldn't be any
trouble to get it back to its proper owner."

Draycos felt a surge of disgust. There was no ID on the money
clip, which meant the mercenaries had no intention of giving the lost
money to anyone. A quiet fifty-fifty split, and they would go about
their business with no feeling other than satisfaction over their
unexpected bonus.

"But I saw it first," Jack repeated plaintively. Shifting his
stance, he moved his right leg right beside the door and tapped his toe.

Again lifting his front paw from Jack's skin, Draycos plucked the
small button-shaped sensor from inside Jack's sock. With the
mercenaries' full attention on the money clip, the K'da risked pushing
his paw out from beneath the cuff. A flick of his claws, and the sensor
sailed upward.

Because he was listening for it, he heard the soft
clink
as the sensor's magnet connected it solidly to the lower part of the
door.

"Get lost," Chips ordered. There was the sound of a light slap,
and Jack staggered back a couple of steps. "Or I'll tell the cops you
were the one who stole it in the first place."

"It's not fair," Jack muttered as he shuffled away. "Not
fair
."

He crossed the street again and headed toward his doorway. But
instead of settling back down for what was left of the night, he
continued on along the street. "Uncle Virge?" he asked softy. "Did you
get it?"

"I got it," Uncle Virge said with dark satisfaction. "Even with
Draycos's sensor a little lower than where I'd wanted it."

Draycos grimaced. That was Uncle Virge, all right. He never missed
a chance to try to make the K'da look bad in Jack's presence. "The low
weight of the sensor makes it difficult to throw very far," Draycos
pointed out stiffly.

"And I'm sure Uncle Virge was able to compensate," Jack soothed.
Fortunately, he'd long since figured out what the other was trying to
do. "Right, Uncle Virge?"

"I already told you I got it."

"Good," Jack said. "And for the record, Draycos, that money clip
toss was perfect. Right where I wanted it."

"Thank you," Draycos said, feeling somewhat mollified. "Where
exactly did you put the third sensor, if I may ask?"

"I slipped it up onto the back of Chips's holster," Jack told him.
"So now the
big
question, Uncle Virge: can you code me a data
tube that'll match their key well enough to get me inside?"

"Absolutely," Uncle Virge assured him. "And as a bonus, I can also
make a blocker to get you through the cavity-wave alarm system just
inside the door. Unless you'd rather disarm that one yourself."

"No, that's all right," Jack assured him. "Package deals are good."

"I just thought you might enjoy the challenge," Uncle Virge said.
"It's clear you've still got the magic touch."

"Thank you kindly," Jack said dryly. "Just don't forget that that
touch goes into retirement the minute Draycos's people are safe."

Uncle Virge gave a theatrical sigh. "I understand," he said. "Just
a moment . . . ah. They've taken the money and dropped the clip into a
wastebasket."

"Perfect," Jack said. "We'll be able to eavesdrop on the whole
office."

"At least until they empty the trash," Uncle Virge said. "I
presume you want me to get started coding the key?"

"Right," Jack said. "We'll spend the rest of today getting
organized, and tonight we do it."

"You make it sound so easy," Draycos said.

"This time it will be," Jack assured him.

"
That'll
be a first." Uncle Virge muttered.

During the long nights Jack had spent outside the Malison Ring
office, the two mercenaries had always arrived between four-fifty and
five-fifteen in the morning. Jack made sure he and Draycos were there
at three-thirty sharp.