Dragon and Judge

A sudden memory flooded back on him: he and Draycos in the Essenay's dayroom, right after their first meeting and the mad escape from the Iota Klestis ambush.

We dealt with a people called the Chitac Nomads, Draycos had told him and Uncle Virge. They assured us Iota Klestis was available for purchase.

I don't know, Uncle Virge had answered doubtfully. On paper, the place still belongs to the Triost Mining Group.

Carefully, Jack focused his mind as he and the others climbed out of the shuttle. Draycos? he thought toward his shoulder.

Yes, I saw, the K'da's mental voice came back grimly. Are these the same people?

It's the same group, Jack confirmed. Near one of the apartment pillars he spotted a middle-aged man talking with the One and a couple of other Golvins. Probably not the same specific people, though.

Pardon?

I said it's the same group, but probably not the same exact people, Jack repeated. This telepathy stuff took more effort and focus than he'd realized. Keep it down, now—I have to concentrate.

The One's eyes shifted to Jack as he and the others approached. The man caught the subtle movement and turned. He was medium height and build, starting to widen out around the waist, with thinning hair and piercing blue eyes. "Ah," he said, giving Jack a friendly smile. "You must be the Judge-Paladin everyone's talking about."

"I'm Judge-Paladin Jack Melville," Jack confirmed, grabbing a new last name for himself at random. "You?"

"Genie Bolo, survey specialist for the Triost Mining Group," the other said, holding out his hand. His smile took on a slight frown. "I have to say, you look awfully young for your position."

"I've always looked young for my age," Jack explained, shaking Bolo's hand firmly but briefly, in the upper-class professional's style Uncle Virgil had taught him. "Even at twenty-four, a lot of people peg me as only seventeen or eighteen."

"I'd have made it even younger," Bolo admitted. "But don't worry about it. You'll appreciate the effect when you're fifty and still look thirty-five." His smile turned a little rueful as he ran a hand through his thinning hair. "As you see, I've got the opposite problem."

"At least people take you seriously," Jack said. "What brings you here, Mr. Bolo?"

"Survey work, like the job title says," Bolo said. "We've got a petrometal station going in about a hundred miles east of here. I was told to see whether it would be cheaper for us to build a pipeline to the NorthCentral Spaceport for the stuff or to build our own tanker landing area next to the station."

Jack frowned. "I didn't know you could pump metals."

"Actually, we'd be pumping a slurry," Bolo said. "That's a lot of water or other liquid with metals or whatever suspended in it."

"Ah," Jack said. So that was what the tunnel pipes and vats were for that he and Draycos had seen. One pipe would bring water to the mine face, and the ore would be dumped into it in one of the vats. The resulting slurry would then be pumped back to the surface through the other pipe. "Interesting. I presume that in this case the liquid would be the oil part of the petrometal deposits?"

"Exactly," Bolo said. "You know much about mining?"

"Hardly anything," Jack said. "How long will you be in the area?"

"I'll be coming and going over the next few days," Bolo said, looking around. "Frankly, this canyon throws kind of a wrench into the whole pipeline idea. I think the head office must have forgotten it was even here."

Jack smiled tightly. Sure they had. "Well, I wish you luck," he said.

Bolo inclined his head. "Thank you. I must say, it's nice to see a human face out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Indeed," Jack agreed. "Perhaps after you're done for the day, you'd be able to join us for dinner." He caught the One's eye. "One Among Many? Would that be possible?"

"Yes, of course," the One said.

His voice and expression were polite enough. But Jack had lived with these people long enough to have picked up on all the smaller and more subtle touches of face and gesture.

The One was worried. He was badly worried.

"Sorry, but I can't," Bolo said. "I've got a ton of work to do, and not nearly enough time to do it all in." He paused, gazing at nothing as if thinking hard. "But I should be back here in two or three days," he continued. "Maybe we can find time then for a dinner or even just a lunch."

"Sounds good to me," Jack said. "I guess we'll see you when we see you."

"That you will," Bolo agreed, smiling as he nodded a farewell. He shifted his eyes to the One—"One Among Many," he said, nodding again. Then, brushing past Jack, he headed back to his aircar.