Cascade Point and Other Stories Part 22

Grail smiled again. "Yes, Doctor," he murmured, closing his eyes.

The aircraft reached its destination-one of Rosette's border outposts-an hour or so later. Grail, seemingly recovered from his earlier discomfort, obtained two horses, and he and Royd rode off into the low mountains that formed a natural barrier between Rosette and Easterland. No one at the base asked Royd's name or position; Grail did not volunteer that information.

The mountains were not particularly high, but they were steep and treacherous in places. Clearly, though, Grail had taken this path before, and he led them skillfully up the slope. After perhaps an hour he reined in. "We go on foot from here," he told Royd. "I want to get a little closer before I release One."

They made their way through the trees and underbrush for half a kilometer to a small clearing where, without warning, the forty-meter dragon appeared. Shifting its bulk with surprising grace, it moved off between the trees. "Glad we found this clearing," Grail grunted. "If you bring One out in the woods you usually knock down a tree or two in the process. Makes a h.e.l.l of a noise." He looked at Royd.

"Did you feel anything when I released it?"

Royd hadn't even thought to try applying his mind-conditioning work. "Uh-"

"Forgot to, huh? Never mind; get ready and I'll bring out Three."

And this time Royd did sense something. A presence of sorts, but cold and faintly menacing.

Grail nodded when Royd tried to describe it. "That's the dragon, all right.

Scared h.e.l.l out of me when I first contacted it, too. I'm going to put Three through its paces; watch how the feeling changes with each movement." The dragon turned and leaped into the lower branches of the nearest tree."Shouldn't you stick with one dragon at a time?" Royd asked, glancing in the direction that One had taken.

"No problem. I can handle all three at once." He smiled crookedly. "And no more than three-which is why there are twelve Dragonmasters instead of just one."

"Oh?" Royd said with forced casualness. Grail had never given him more than tantalizing hints about how the older man had become a Dragonmaster, and Royd didn't want to scare the story back underground by seeming too eager.

"Yeah. The man who found the first amulet out at Castor was able to use it to find the other eleven. It had taken him nine years of trial and error to figure out how to call and control his first set of dragons, but he found out that there was simply no way for him to control two amulets at once-I suspect they were deliberately designed that way. So he called in a bunch of his cronies and taught us how to be Dragonmasters. We had it easy; with his knowledge the process only took a few weeks."

Royd shook his head. "Nine years. The man had a lot of patience."

"He didn't have much else to do," Grail replied bluntly. "He was in hiding. If he'd stuck his nose out of the Castor system the Imperial Patrols would have shot it off."

"What do you mean?"

"He was a pirate. So was I."

For a moment the two men looked at each other in silence. Then, slowly, Royd shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"Why not?"

"You don't talk like a pirate, for one thing. And you're too well educated."

From the other side of the mountains came the sound of gunfire. "Just the Easterlings shooting at One," Grail explained as Royd, startled, turned to face the sound. "Don't worry; it's not going to kill any of them today. You know, you can't be stupid and be a pirate these days-running a starship takes brains." He sighed.

"But you're partly right: I didn't start life as a pirate. For several years I taught microelectrical engineering on Goldstone."

Royd looked at the dictator's lined face. "What happened?"

Grail shrugged awkwardly. "I'm not really sure. Academic life was just too frustrating, I suppose. There were many improvements that needed to be made in the university, but no one would listen to my ideas. As low man in the pecking order I couldn't accomplish anything except irritating those in charge."When they finally tossed me out, I drifted around industry for a while-no other college would hire me-and when Damrosch offered me a job on one of his ships, I took it. I didn't know then that he was a pirate, and when I found out... I don't know; I suppose I've always been a better follower than a leader. That's probably why he gave me one of the amulets-he figured I could be trusted to back him up."

"Did you?"

"More or less. Even when most of the other Dragonmasters deserted him during the Great War to try and set up their own kingdoms, I stayed with him. His plan was to capture one planet, build it up over a period of several years, and then use it as a base of operations to take over the whole Empire."

"Is that when you left him?"

"Soon afterward. The planet he chose was Solfa."

"Oh." Royd was silent for a moment. "For a born follower you sure picked up the trade of dictator pretty fast."

Grail took a step toward him, face contorted with sudden anger. "I had no choice, d.a.m.n it!" he shouted. "This place was coming apart at the seams. Can't you get that through your head? I was the only one who could hold it together." He broke off in a fit of coughing, clutching his sides and sinking to his knees in the brush. "My inhaler," he managed to get out. "It's with the horse."

Royd glanced at Three as the dragon crouched motionless, temporarily bereft of guidance. "The dragon would be faster," he said.

"Scares the horses," Grail gasped, shaking his head. "You go. Hurry."

Royd sprinted the half kilometer back to where they had tied the animals.

There was a pouch tied to one of the pommels; opening it, he found a small gas cylinder with an attached mouthpiece. He had it in his hand, and had actually taken the first few steps back toward Grail, when the realization of what he was doing crashed in on him and brought him to an abrupt halt.

Grail was the Dragonmaster, the ruthless dictator Royd had sworn to kill...

and Royd was about to try and save his life.

For a brief moment he wavered; but the proper course was unfortunately clear. No end could ever be divorced from its means, and to allow an old, sick man to choke to death would be to sink to Marwitz's level. A government that gained power in that way would have proved itself merely a successor, not an alternative, to the Dragonmaster's-how then could it ask for the people's trust? And besides, Grail had asked him for help. To betray that trust would be the act of a Judas... and Royd did not wish such a bloodstain on his conscience.

The coughing had stopped, but Grail was still wheezing badly when Royd reached him. His hands trembling, the old man took the cylinder, turned a valve, and held it to his mouth. Within a few seconds his breathing had eased.

"You okay?" Royd asked, himself still somewhat out of breath from the return sprint.

Grail nodded and got carefully to his feet. His eyes swept across Royd's face, a strangely knowing expression in them... and Royd felt his face reddening.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" he exploded. "That was a test, wasn't it? d.a.m.n it-and you knew I'd come back, didn't you?"

Grail held up a hand. "I really did need the inhaler," he said. "And no, I wasn't sure you would return. But I thought it likely."

"Does that thing let you read minds, too?" Royd asked bitterly, nodding at the amulet.

"No, not at all. But the state of mind you've been learning gives you a sort of sense for danger." His eyes looked deep into Royd's. "You still want to kill me, don't you?"

Royd returned the gaze. "Yes," he said harshly. "And someday I'll find a way to do it."

"I'm sure you will. But wait until you learn to control the dragons." Grail glanced toward Three, and the dragon vanished. "Come, it's time to return to the outpost. We'll take a short air tour of the border and be back at the palace by nightfall. I've called One back; I think we've given the Easterlings enough to think about for a while. I trust a short tour is all right with you?"

"Whatever you want," Royd said curtly. "You're the boss here."

"Yes," Grail agreed. "I am. Shall we go?"

Back in his room again, Royd slumped into a chair and glared at the mind- conditioning equipment, his stomach still churning with anger and shame. Wait until he could control the dragons, indeed: Sound advice-and an obvious trap, for Grail had made it a point to keep himself familiar with Royd's progress. He would know exactly when Royd had the necessary skill. And when that point was reached... what? Royd still didn't know what the old dictators ultimate plan for him was.

But that was almost irrelevant. A swift, unexpected attack was the only way to kill the Dragonmaster. Royd had had that chance and had blown it. His sense of justice and honor had played him false, he realized; there was no honorable way to commit murder. The next time, he told himself firmly, he would ignore the p.r.i.c.kings of conscience... if there was a next time.Across the room, the door opened. Royd looked up, expecting to see Grail; but it wasn't the Dragonmaster who entered the room.

It was Civil Affairs Director Marwitz. And two of his uniformed bullies.

Marwitz stopped abruptly; clearly, he hadn't expected the room to be occupied. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Royd opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was no reason he should tell Marwitz anything, "Who are you, and what gives you the right to disturb my privacy?" he countered.

Marwitz murmured something, then walked farther into the room. The guards followed, closing the door behind them. Their guns were drawn; their expressions were not pleasant.

Royd felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. "I warn you, Dragonmaster Grail will be furious when he hears you've disturbed me."

"Will he, now." Recognition flickered across the Director's face. "And why would he be upset for me to find a failed a.s.sa.s.sin in his own palace?" The voice hardened. "What's going on?"

Royd remained silent. "Waverly!" Marwitz snapped.

One of the guards stepped forward, yanked Royd to his feet, and backhanded him hard across the mouth. Knocked off balance, Royd tripped over his chair and fell heavily to the floor. "What's going on?" Marwitz repeated. "I warn you- tonight of all nights I have no time to waste on false valor. Talk fast or I guarantee you'll soon wish you had."

Royd wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, shook his head. "The Dragonmaster will roast you over one of your own fires for this," he said with as much bravado as he could muster.

"Svoda." Marwitz turned to the other guard. "Go call Quebbe and tell him to set up his equipment; I'm sending him a new test subject. You'll be leaving by the south service road; pull all but one guard off the gate there, and make sure he's one of mine. Then quietly collect four or five other men you can trust and bring them back here."

The guard saluted and left. Marwitz turned back to Royd. "It will be a few minutes before you'll be leaving. You have just that long to change your mind." He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, the guard Waverly standing by his side.

Royd felt the first p.r.i.c.kings of panic inside his throat. He'd heard rumors of Marwitz's torturers, stories that had made his blood turn to ice water. And unless he could somehow alert Grail as to what was happening, he was going to find out firsthand if the rumors were true. He had to escape before the other guard returned.

But how? He was still sprawled on the floor, his every twitch the object of close scrutiny. And he had no weapons at all... or did he?

It was his only chance. Carefully taking a deep breath, he began to concentrate.

The first few steps were easy: convolutions of the mind that he had already mastered. But his training was not yet complete, and he found himself in the position of a thief who knows all but the last two numbers of a combination lock.

Desperately, he visualized the wave patterns he had seen so many times before; brought back the sensations he'd felt near Louys Pa.s.s that morning; tried to remember how the amulet itself had felt... and suddenly it all seemed to click.

Opening his eyes-he hadn't remembered closing them-he focused on a spot a few meters behind Marwitz and Waverly....

And the small dragon was there.

The two men spun around, Waverly with his gun raised. There were many ways for Three to attack, but Royd knew instinctively that he didn't have enough control yet to order them. Instead, he tried a simple command, visualizing both the words and the action: Pivot around quickly on your hind legs.

Three whipped around in a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn-and its tail lashed Waverly and Marwitz, slamming them hard into the edge of the rock-ebony table. They crumpled to the floor and stayed there.

Royd crawled over to them, the effort of holding Three making him a little light-headed. Waverly was dead; Marwitz only unconscious. Retrieving the gun, Royd got to his feet and let his control relax, sending Three back to the amulet around Grail's neck.

He staggered to the door, but just as he reached it he heard footsteps in the hall. There was barely enough time for him to leap behind the door before it swung open. Svoda and four other guards strode into the room.

The first time, Royd discovered, was the hardest. The guards had barely time to recover from the sight in front of them and to reach for their weapons before Three was once again in the room. Royd repeated the tail-swinging technique, and within seconds the guards were sprawled across the room in various degrees of injury and unconsciousness.

The dragon vanished, and Royd drew a shuddering breath. For an instant a wave of nausea swept over him, both from the effort of controlling Three and from the destruction he had so easily unleashed. But there was no time to lose. Either Marwitz was up to something especially devious or deadly-"tonight of all nights," he had said-or, more unlikely, this was a test Grail had cooked up for him. In either case, however, his course was clear: he had to get out, and fast. And if Marwitz had really left the south service road clear... then it was time to strike.

Stuffing Waverly's pistol into his belt, Royd left the room, locking the door behind him.- He found Phelan Hapspur in one of the Rosette Freedom Party's secret meeting places, and the two men greeted each other like long-lost cousins.

"d.a.m.n, but I thought we'd never see you again," Phelan grinned. "How'd you escape?"

"Never mind that now," Royd said. "I can get us into the palace if you can be ready in half an hour or so."

"What?" Phelan stared wide-eyed at Royd; for the first time he seemed to notice the latter's clothing and physical condition. He drew back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Just where were you being held, Varian?"

"That's not important-"

"Yes, it is. You haven't been tortured; you haven't even gone hungry. What do you think that looks like to us?"

Royd was suddenly aware that there was a ring of people around them. Many were armed and dressed in black nightsuits; not all looked friendly.

"Look," he said, keeping his voice calm, "I can get you inside the palace- inside, not out in the grounds where they can pick us off one by one. You going to pa.s.s up a chance like this?"

"How you gonna do that?" a voice from the crowd challenged.

"Director Marwitz was going to take me out for some unauthorized torture.

He cleared all but one guard off the south service gate to avoid having unnecessary witnesses to my departure. I escaped and clobbered that guard on my way out. But he'll be found when the next shift goes on duty in an hour or so. I see you're set up for some kind of raid anyway-d.a.m.n it, you'll never have this chance again."

There was a moment of silence. "All right," Phelan said slowly. "There's a lot here you're not telling us. But you're right; this is worth taking a chance on. But if you're lying-if it's a trap-you'll be the first to die."

"Understood. Now, we have to work fast. Give me some paper and I'll sketch our route. Oh, and there are some people we absolutely have to hit..."

Far away the sounds of sporadic gunfire could be heard as Royd sprinted down the deserted hallway toward Dragonmaster Grail's office suite. He'd left Phelan's squad minutes earlier to find Marwitz, to make sure the Director didn't escape. But Phelan had moved faster than Royd had expected, and the group had already entered Grail's office. He'd heard firing from that direction as he came up the stairs, but now there was only an ominous silence.

Running through the bullet-chipped outer doorway, between the crumpled bodies of the guards, he skidded to a halt in Grail's office.

The tableau before him was a potent mix of surrealism and deja vu, and for an instant Royd flashed back to his own invasion of this sanctum a short eternity ago.

In the dim light and harsh shadows thrown by Grail's desk lamp, Phelan and his five men stood or crouched motionlessly, their automatic rifles half-lowered in a gesture of uselessness.

Facing them across the room, Grail stood by his desk, the black figure of Three between him and the rifles. Grail had been speaking; he broke off as Royd entered.

"So this is your doing, is it?" he said. "I should have known. You deserved death for trying to kill me, but instead I treated you humanely-and this is the thanks I get."

The words of the Dragonmaster were bitter, but, strangely, the tone was not.

Royd frowned, searching Grail's face for clues to his feelings.

"Varian, did you get Marwitz?" Phelan asked, his eyes still on Grail.

"No. Someone beat me to him."

"d.a.m.n! According to Grail here most of the soldiers we've been killing were Marwitz's men, in the middle of their own coup attempt. But maybe it's not too late to join forces. Whip over to the communications section-north side, third floor- and tell McDodd to call for a parley."

"Join forces with Marwitz's butchers? Are you crazy? They'd stab us in the back first chance they got."

"I didn't ask your opinion," Phelan snapped. "Get moving. We can use their help."