The Dragon Never Sleeps by Glen Cook


  The Deified Thaygos Mundt suggested, “Maybe they didn’t let him.”

  “Perhaps. His first capsule is useless, too.”

  “And the hulk?”

  They knew. But they wanted to make him tell it. “The type hasn’t been seen before. The design is strictly combat. It contained no technical surprises except a geometric inertial system the equal of ours.”

  “And the creatures who operated it?”

  They did want him to state the impossible before the crew. “They appear to be of human stock. With differences science staff say can be explained by isolation from the main gene pool for fourteen to twenty thousand years.”

  They wanted crew to know, but they did not make him remind them that known history predated Canon’s founding only a few thousand years.

  The Deified Ansehl Ronygos asked, “Explain your plan of campaign.”

  “First, D. Zimplica to inform Presidency General Secretariat. Then Outside.”

  WarAvocat ran the Web hard, twice forcing commercial carriers off into starspace. The pause at the Presidency capital system, D. Zimplica, lasted ten minutes. Then on to the Outside system where three Guardships had died.

  He broke away in a magnum launch, into a swarm of ships trying to mine the wreckage. There were no surviving riderships.

  It took eighteen hours to cleanse the system. Nothing escaped. He gave the Twist Masters ten hours to obliterate the remains of three Guardships. Then he proceeded to the next system in the empire of the methane breathers.

  WarAvocat foresaw a six-year campaign softening defenses for Guardships to follow.

  Tawn was seen twice after the fighting. He went but she was not there when he arrived.

  — 93 —

  Lupo felt good going into D. Zimplica aboard the Raintree Hauler Indefatigable. He had shifted operatives like game pieces. He had collected on favors done and had assumed a few debts. The operation was set so it could be carried out without any anomaly an investigator could hook onto.

  There would be no ship in or out that was not regularly scheduled. None would have any known connection with House Tregesser. If it worked, nothing would happen to hint that the Lieutenant’s party had done anything but change ships.

  He would arrive two days before they did. He would have time to scout. And the two days of their layover to do the job.

  He asked Two, “What can go wrong?” She had just walked in looking like something had.

  “A Guardship just broke off the Web. VII Gemina. Mr. Stefens ought to make an appearance on the bridge.”

  G. Stefens was the Hauler’s passenger of record. Stefens was a high official of House Raintree.

  The Chief said, “Ah, Mr. Stefens. We’ll dock shortly. Have you visited Belladonna before?”

  “Yes.” D. Zimplica 3, Belladonna, was a Freehold World, owing allegiance to no House, as well as the seat of Sixth Presidency General Secretariat. “It’s probably the most attractive world in the sector. It’s a shame it’s already claimed.”

  “Yes. I suppose you’re interested in the Guardship.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s gone. Stayed only ten minutes. Squirted something at the Secretariat, then left.”

  “Thank you.” That was nice. That was beautiful. But it did not drain the water out of his legs. What message had it sent?

  Lupo knew within the hour. The Secretariat had posted it to every ship. A Guardship fleet directive. An instant law.

  Every ship docking at every station was to have its documentation examined. Any vessel making a nonscheduled arrival was to be searched and all persons aboard required to furnish documentation. Any creature of the description... (methane breathing colonial intelligence that Lupo recognized)... was to be destroyed upon discovery, without exception. NonCanon ships barred from Canon space. Vessels without license to be destroyed if they refused internment. Severe restrictions on trade beyond the Atlantean Rim. Severe penalties for noncompliance.

  “A fun bunch, our protectors,” Lupo observed. Then he scanned the unusual justificatory appendix. Piracy. Smuggling. Espionage. Mass murder. Attacks upon Guardships. Attacks upon Canon star systems....

  Lupo was not given to anger. He was so angry now he could do nothing but mutter “M. Shrilica” and nurture fantasies of revenge.

  There was nothing he could do, of course. When he calmed down, he observed, “We’re in trouble, Two. We have no leverage on those Outside things. But they know who we are. They can use that against us. We’ve lost the initiative.”

  “We still have the Ku.”

  Jo looked up at AnyKaat. “What did they say?”

  “No.”

  “Damn!”

  “They aren’t picking on us, Jo. It’s the way things are done. You don’t let people hang around after you’ve gotten them where they’re going. You have to get ready for the next bunch. And the way things are, you make a fuss and we’re liable to spend a month in STASIS detention explaining.”

  “What?”

  “This.” Jo accepted something official. “VII Gemina was here day before yesterday. Just long enough to send that.”

  Jo read while her heart sank. “Missed them that close?” And, “They wouldn’t tell it all here. Things must be bad.”

  “That’s what I thought. That’s what people on station think. So let’s try to do things like everybody else and not get burned.”

  “You’re right.” She felt empty. Missed VII Gemina by a hair.

  “I’ve reserved space in a hostel near our departure dockhead.”

  “What about our connection?”

  “In dock, plenty of room, and it’ll leave on schedule.”

  “I don’t suppose they’d let us board early?”

  “Jo, a station needs what travelers spend at the concessions to survive.”

  Jo tapped the directive. “Know what this means? WarAvocat wrote us off. Presumed dead.”

  The Lieutenant said, “Don’t think about making a break, Ku. You wouldn’t last even if I didn’t kill you.”

  Turtle paid no attention. That was nervous talk. She was more an alien here than he was. He watched the crowd for a sign the operation was on. Provik could have overestimated his ability to pull it together.

  He caught a passing smile, a man of Blessed’s.

  Two said, “They’ve taken a quad and a triple on separate levels. The women, the Ku, and the artifact are in the quad. The soldiers are in the triple.”

  “Let’s work on the soldiers first. The Ku can handle the women if he has to.”

  Hoke slipped out early, to try his luck in the social whirl of the station. It was his lucky day. He ran into a woman who started panting the moment she saw him. But after the preliminaries he had no place to take her. So he followed her back to the Hauler where she crewed.

  Hoke’s comrades gutted it out for six hours before deciding they had to do something.

  They got lucky. Asking around, they ran into two crewmen off a Hauler who recalled Hoke on account of he had gone off with a woman from their ship. They were amused. One said, “She’s probably eaten him alive by now.”

  The other snickered. “Pauli uses them up.”

  “She do keep them long off watches from getting boring.”

  “Speaking of which, old buddy, it’s about time.”

  “Yeah. We got to head out. You guys want to walk down and see if that’s where she took your pal?”

  The soldiers went. Small talk kept them unsuspicious. At the docking bay one asked the purser, “Fredo, Pauli bring a guy home with her?”

  “Yeah. Must be something. She’s had him in there four hours and he ain’t yelled for help yet.”

  “He’s a pal of these guys and he’s going to miss movement if they don’t latch onto him. All right if they go drag him out?”

  “Don’t let the Chief see you.”

  “We got him cornered now. Come on, guys.”

  One of the soldiers was reluctant. The other muttered about the time. They went a
board.

  Three men resembling the soldiers left the Hauler. They called one another by name. Two looked sour. The happy one smiled vaguely but talked enthusiastically about Pauli.

  There really was a Pauli. And she was a minor legend.

  Use reality, Provik said. Don’t abuse it.

  Jo fidgeted. When she could not hold it anymore, she said, “Hoke’s late. Call them, AnyKaat.”

  “Ten minutes, Jo.”

  “Guardship soldiers aren’t late. They’re especially not late when they’re supposed to relieve their commanding officer.”

  “No answer, Jo.”

  “I’ll have his balls.”

  “What?”

  “Want to know what happened? Hoke snuck out looking for some action. Jug and Shaigon got worried and went after him. Damnfools probably got lost.” Jo flipped her passcard for their room. “Take a look. I don’t want to be wrong. If they’re not there, check around. But don’t be gone too long.”

  “You be all right?”

  “They’re asleep. And I’ll keep a gun in my hand.”

  Twelve minutes later there was a tentative tap at the door. “What?” Jo snapped.

  Muffled, nervous, “Hoke, ma’am.”

  Jo headed for the door. “The famous eunuch to be.”

  Lupo hugged Two when they brought the Lieutenant aboard. “We did it!”

  Jo sat on a rough Hauler bunk, back against the bulkhead, trying to understand. The Ku had been sound asleep. But when the door opened, he had plucked the weapon out of her hand.

  The door there opened. A man stepped inside.

  Lupo Provik!

  “Good evening, Lieutenant.”

  “You can’t get away with this.”

  “I already have. I’m tempted to let the people who replaced you go on to Starbase.”

  “Replaced?”

  “Tomorrow the Merod Traveler Fanta Palonz takes on passengers. Seven answering the descriptions of your party, with proper documentation, will board. They will disappear at D. Chuchainica 3B.”

  Jo was scared like she had not been scared for a long time. “Why tell me?” The fear stemmed less from her circumstances than from recognition of the ruthless efficiency with which they had been engineered. In that moment she knew who had engineered the ambush in the end space.

  “I want you to understand the full compass of your predicament, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m dead.”

  “No. This has been a bloodless operation. My associate Kez Maefele has scruples. He’d like it kept bloodless. His solution appeals to the poet and gambler in me.”

  She refused to ask.

  “He wants to take your arms, credit, and documentation and dump you in a DownTown on a world pacified by VII Gemina. He thinks someone from a Guardship ought to experience that life. He says that’s more just than spacing you.”

  “It’s murder all the same.”

  “No. Real murder would be to eject you with the trash while we’re running the Web. Which is your other option.”

  “You’re a real smooth talker, aren’t you?”

  “I try. The point is, you and your people can get out alive. If you don’t try to be heroes. I try to keep the Ku happy. No. Don’t consider it. I’m a killer.”

  Jo relaxed. If he read her that easily, he might be as good as he thought. “You do what you want to do. But if you turn me loose, I’ll find you again.”

  “That’s the spirit. Keep it up. You might pull it off.” He left Jo wondering what kind of man he was.

  — 94 —

  It took Turtle four months to weave the cautious itinerary that let him deliver the Guardship soldiers. The fleet directive was no trouble. The soldiers themselves were. Provik’s preferred solution looked much better toward the end.

  Getting them through station was easier than he anticipated. Almost two years had passed since the Concord nonsense, but disorganization persisted for lack of qualified survivors.

  Nothing had been done to clear the wreckage of Merod Schene. The surface survivors still lived in camps set up by VII Getnina. House Merod had evacuated their favorites and then downscaled their interest. The left behind could do as they pleased.

  Seeds of a new society, scattered on soil fertilized by blood. Turtle almost wished he could stay to watch its evolution.

  The worst of the survivors, the weird and deadly and crazy, lived in the ruins still and favored the night.

  Turtle explained that to the Lieutenant. “You find the Immunes. Mention me. Line up with them. Show the world how mean you are. Don’t tell anybody you were Guardship soldiers. Ever. Stick together. You and the other woman are reasonably attractive. That will cause problems. Different rules obtain here.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Repaying a debt you would have to be Ku to understand.” He offered her a plastic box. “The interest on that debt. Two handguns. Two rechargeable charge packs. Treasures greater than serviceable women. Use them sparingly and guard them well. Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

  “Not goodbye, Ku. Till we meet again.”

  “Don’t, Lieutenant. I will kill you the next time.” Turtle left them. He felt sad. They were all on the skids to Hell.

  It took him two months to reach Tregesser Prime because of the dislocations caused by “the War.”

  The most feared woman on V. Rothica 4 joined the two most feared men. “It was them.”

  Cable Shike snapped, “About damned time. I’m sick of this hole.” He had not wanted to come. Blessed had insisted.

  Four and Five were sick of Merod Schene, too.

  Shike said, “Let’s whack them while they’re dizzy and get out.”

  The letter of Lupo Provik’s word was good. Provik had given the Ku what he asked. But there had been no promise not to tie up loose ends after the five reached Merod Schene.

  Five said, “Guess I’d better get Crash.”

  “He won’t play it straight,” Shike said. “He’ll give you that frog grin and say he’ll go with the job, but he’ll only go till he scrubs the three men. No way is he going to spiff those women.”

  Crash Gutsyke was a second-rate gang boss. He had ambitions.

  Five said, “I know the type. Thinks he’ll claim his pay, drill you and me, then expand his harem by one more.” Five laughed.

  Even Four was amused.

  Just by moving in a careful formation, they drew attention. The bold came to look. The timid moved away. Jo tried to swallow her contempt and could not. Never had she seen such scum. Like the dregs of Canon had been dumped here.

  Their search for shelter took them ever nearer the ruins.

  At first she was unsure they were being stalked. But the camp became less crowded toward the city. It became obvious. There were ten of them, at least. She passed the word. Everyone had noticed.

  She had given her weapon to Hoke though the Ku had meant them for her and AnyKaat. Hoke was an irresponsible dickhead, but he had been regimental small-arms champ and under fire was liquid helium.

  Three very large men stepped out to block the lane ahead. Others began closing in, hauling out knives and swords.

  “Kill,” Jo said.

  Jug had point. He kicked the middle blocker in the nose, driving the bone back into whatever the man used for brains. Hoke shot another and turned, began shooting to the left. AnyKaat was a beat late but started shooting to the right.

  Jug broke the neck of the last blocker and looked around for another victim. He lurched. Fire and gore erupted from his back.

  Hoke had killed another six men when it happened to him.

  Jo dived for his weapon. She came up with it, looked around, saw the survivors in flight, shot two, saw Shaigon’s head explode.

  AnyKaat, using both hands to steady her aim, squeezed off a shot at three people on a rusty knee of the ruined city. One pitched backward. “Shit. I hit the wrong one.”

  Jo got behind Hoke’s body. “Get down!”

  AnyKaat zigzagged toward the rui
ns.

  Jo tried to give covering fire. Twice Hoke’s body jerked and belched fire and blood.

  Jo got three more shots before her charge pack went. Only the last did any good. Like AnyKaat, she missed the gunner and hit someone else.

  She jumped up and zigzagged after AnyKaat, making sudden pauses to snatch weapons from the dead. The air blistered around her, too close to believe anyone could shoot that straight and guess her next move that well. Then the gunner decided to worry about AnyKaat.

  Jo found AnyKaat in the shade of a slab of rusty iron. She was seated on rubble. Her right calf was bloody.

  “Bad?”

  “Shrapnel. Just a little chunk taken out. Direct hit would have taken it off. I won’t be dancing for a while. One of those people was Cable Shike. Blessed Tregesser’s bodyguard.”

  “We know where we stand, then.” She popped the charge pack out of her weapon, placed it in sunlight. “That might pick up enough power for one or two shots before dark. Give me yours.”

  AnyKaat’s weapon had power enough for three more shots. Just enough. “Somebody comes along, you don’t act like that won’t work. Point it at them and make them get down on their belly. Then stick them with this.” She gave AnyKaat the longest blade she had collected. “Don’t hesitate. We got no friends around here.”

  “What about the guys, Jo?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “Where you going?”

  “In there. I’ll be back.”

  The shadows were taking control of the ruins when Crash Gutsyke lumped his froggish shape into sight.

  Shike and Five had dressed their wounds but moved slowly. Cable said, “Here comes Fuckup Charlie.”

  Five said, “That was some class you showed us out there, Crash.”

  Gutsyke’s third of a meter of tongue lashed the air. “You never told me they had guns.”

  “We didn’t know. I did tell you they were pros and they wouldn’t be easy. From what I saw they could have taken you apart without the guns.”

 
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