Nothing But Blue Skies (42 page)

‘So,' Zelda said, and the grinding of gears as she tried to sound bright and cheerful was enough to put your teeth on edge. ‘Now what? Back to the office on Monday?'

The dragon laughed. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘Duty calls. People need weather, after all.' He floated just a little closer. ‘What about you?'

Zelda thought for a moment. ‘All my life,' she said, ‘I wanted to do research on some amazing new species, something the like of which nobody's ever seen before. Like dragons. And you know what? I got my wish. My dream came true. And now I know even less about them than I did when I was six.'

The dragon considered a witty reply about non-invasive examinations, but decided she wouldn't be in the mood. ‘Maybe you've been looking in the wrong place all this time,' he said gently. ‘Now I can think of an amazingly strange and different species, one we really know virtually nothing about, quite unlike any other species on the planet. It's amazing; it can fly through the air, it can communicate instantly over vast distances, it's got powers that are pretty well magical, it's capable of the most breathtaking cruelty and stupidity as well as flashes of genius and moments of exceptional compassion, depending on how it chooses to use the third eye buried inside its mind. You ought to take the time to check it out.'

‘Ah,' Zelda said. ‘But can it make it rain?'

The dragon shook its head. ‘No,' it replied. ‘In fact, it can't even tell what the weather's going to be like tomorrow, though sometimes it kids itself it can. But that's no big deal; after all, it'd be a very boring world without a few random factors.'

‘Maybe,' Zelda said. ‘I mean, who'd want to know, for certain sure, that someone was definitely going to be in a certain place at a certain time on a certain day? Where'd the fun be in that?'

The dragon inclined his head gravely. ‘Quite,' he said. ‘Forecasting is all very well, if you ask me, but it'll never quite replace the thrill of turning up on the day and waiting to see what'll happen.'

The scientist frowned. ‘You think your friend Lucy could get me one of those things?'

‘It's possible,' Gordon replied. ‘Or you could just stand in front of a mirror and close your eyes. Can I give you a lift anywhere? '

The scientist thought for a moment. ‘San Diego,' she said. ‘I know a place that does really cute blackcurrant-flavoured iced tea, and I'm thirsty.'

Gordon laughed. ‘You're assuming it's hot weather in San Diego,' he said. ‘For all you know, it might be pouring with rain.'

‘Uh-huh.' The scientist shook her head. ‘It
never
rains in California this time of year. And you can bet your life on that.'

‘OK,' the dragon said. ‘Just hold on there for a moment, I'd better say goodbye to Neville. Then we'll . . .'

‘Oh no you don't.' Zelda glowered at him. ‘Send him a postcard.'

 

Neville didn't see his colleague fly away. He was busy looking for Mr Willis. He wanted to thank him for his hospitality, and as luck would have it he'd found a length of steel pipe in the wreckage that would say far more about the way he felt than words ever could.

‘Sorry,' a dragon told him. ‘Haven't seen him.'

Neville frowned. He hadn't a clue which dragon he was talking to - they all looked alike to him - but he had an idea the dragon knew more than he was letting on. ‘You're sure?' he said. ‘I mean, the man was your worst enemy. And you people are so careful about details.'

‘Us?' The dragon shook his head. ‘Nah. A common misconception. In fact, we forget things all the time.'

A light twinkled in the back of Neville's brain. ‘Like, for example, forgetting to remove prisoners from buildings before stamping them into the dirt?'

The dragon's lips quivered a little. ‘We have a nasty habit of putting things in a safe place and then not being able to find them again,' it said. ‘However, it often works out for the best.'

Neville smiled; then he straightened his face in a hurry as Paul came over and joined them.

‘Excuse me,' Paul said, ‘but do you think I could see my father now? If it's convenient.'

The dragon flicked a quick stare at Neville before answering. ‘Sorry,' it said, ‘but you're a bit late for that. You see, he's escaped.'

‘What?' Paul winced. ‘Oh, not again. I'm so sorry.'

‘Not your fault,' the dragon said, masking its discomfort really rather well. ‘You're not to blame for what he did.'

‘I feel like it's my fault,' Paul said. ‘Sorry, you don't need me burdening you with my personal problems at a time like this.'

‘It's OK,' Neville said quietly. ‘You go on.'

‘Well.' Paul was embarrassed now. ‘Well, I can't help thinking, if I'd been more like he wanted me to be, if I hadn't been such a disappointment to him, maybe he wouldn't have done all these dreadful things. I don't know,' he added sadly.

‘I wouldn't worry about it,' the dragon said. ‘Trust me, I'm a dragon. We know about these things.'

‘You do? How can you possibly-—? Oh,' he added, as the dragon solemnly tapped the ridge between its eyes, ‘of course, you can actually
see
that kind of thing, can't you? And you're sure? It wasn't because of me?'

‘Positive.' The dragon flexed its shoulders.

‘Ah. Only,' Paul went on, ‘I think I've done quite enough damage to be going on with. Karen, for example; I really didn't know what she was feeling about me, or I'd - Oh, well. Have either of you seen her, by the way?'

‘She left,' the dragon said. ‘No message.'

‘Ah. Well, in that case, I suppose I ought to be getting along.' Paul bit his lip thoughtfully. ‘I don't know where I'm supposed to go, but—'

You're going to be very busy,' the dragon said.

‘Am I?'

‘I would think so, with all those newspapers and TV stations and electronics companies and Lord knows what else to run. After all, you're in charge now.'

Paul looked faintly horrified. ‘Me?'

‘You. Even if your father does show up somewhere, the kindest thing you can do for him is maintain the belief that he died here; otherwise they'll only arrest him and throw him in jail for the rest of his life. Personally, I think that's worse than killing someone, don't you? No, as far as we're concerned, he died. Which makes you the - let's see, the third-richest man in the world.'

‘Oh. Right.' Paul didn't seem particularly cheered up by the news, but some people are just naturally miserable. ‘Fair enough, then. Yes, I suppose you're right. There'll be a lot of work to do to get things straightened out'

‘And there's a lot of people who'll be depending on you,' the dragon pointed out. ‘Never forget that.'

Paul nodded. ‘Duty calls,' he said. ‘Well, goodbye. And thank you.'

Neville and the dragon watched him walk away. ‘You lied,' Neville said.

‘Did I?'

‘It's not a criticism,' Neville replied. ‘By the way, which of the dragons are you?'

‘None of your business,' Karen said.

 

‘I don't believe you,' Mr Harrison shouted. ‘It's not true. It's just lies you're making up to try and make me lose my faith.'

S'ssssn shrugged all four shoulders. ‘Please yourself,' she said. ‘If you want to believe that all this—' she pointed with her left foreclaw at the flattened site—‘was done by a thunderbolt sent by Princess Michael of Kent to smite the blasphemers, that's your choice. But if I were you, I'd keep it to yourself. Human beings have such inflexible views on the nature of sanity.'

‘And I don't believe in
you
either,' Mr Harrison said, as S'sssn shoved him gently but firmly into the back of the truck, with the other prisoners. ‘Everybody knows dragons are just make-believe.'

‘I prefer the term “figments of the imagination”,' S'ssssn replied. ‘Have a safe trip.'

The lorry trundled away, taking the last batch of former Willisco employees back to the city. It was, of course, a security risk, but the dragons had all agreed it was an acceptable one. A hundred survivors of some weird catastophe in the desert who roll back into town blathering about dragons - who was going to believe that?

‘Though I'll bet you none of them even mentions the D-word, ' Hpq said, folding his arms and legs and resting his aching back on the soft air. ‘They'll be afraid people will think they're crazy. They'll say it was an accident; and the government'll send a team to investigate, and they'll see all this, building stamped flat into the deck by some incredibly powerful force, and they'll stamp Top Secret on it and file it with the other UFO stuff. Safe as houses.'

S'ssssn grinned. ‘Wonderful creatures, humans. So imaginative in many ways. But,' she added, ‘after a while they get right up your nose. Let's go home. This place is no fun, and besides,' she added, glancing up at the sky, ‘I have a feeling it's coming on to rain.'

‘Fair enough.' Hpq stopped, and nodded his head in Karen's direction. ‘What about . . .?'

S'ssssn clicked her tongue. ‘Better not wait for her,' she said. ‘I have a feeling she and her father are going to need to have a talk. And I'd rather not be anywhere too close when that happens. Stars going nova I can take in my stride, but when the going gets scary I prefer to be elsewhere.'

‘I suppose you're right,' Hpq said. ‘Anyway, we've done our duty, let's go and have some fun for a change. I know: there's an open-air music festival the other side of Bristol.'

‘Really! Yum. Here, bags I get first cloudburst.'

‘That's not fair, you did it last time.'

‘So?'

 

The crown prince of the south-east and the adjutant-general of the north-west looked at each other, like two cats on a fence.

‘What would you say,' the crown prince said, after a long time, ‘if I told you it was a terrible, tragic accident and nothing to do with me?'

The adjutant general thought for a moment. ‘Tricky,' he replied. ‘Probably, I'd say GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRAOOOORRRRR. Then I'd try and bite your head off.'

‘I see. Just as well I wouldn't dream of insulting your intelligence with such a pathetically transparent lie.' He rubbed his chin against the small, sharp scales on the back of his claw. ‘Can you think of anything I might say that'd help matters at all?'

‘Let's see. How about Sorry?'

‘You really think that'd help?'

‘No,' the adjutant-general admitted. ‘All right, how about
Since I'm just off to kill myself by jumping into a black hole, I might as well abdicate now and save on the paperwork
?'

‘Neat,' the crown prince conceded. ‘I like the way you managed to fit it all into one sentence and still keep it snappy and short. But I thought we'd decided that lies weren't going to solve anything.'

‘True,' the adjutant-general said. ‘It'd really only work if you meant it.'

‘Scrub round that one, then. I know,' he went on, ‘how'd it be if I reminded you that in spite of everything, you're still a sworn vassal of the king of the north-west and duty bound to obey orders, and that how the reigning king came by the crown is a matter for his guilty conscience, not yours?'

‘I'd ask you if you've eaten any good lawyers lately.'

‘You are what you eat, you mean? That's unkind. Is that all you'd say?'

‘To your face,' the adjutant-general said unhappily, ‘yes.'

‘Splendid.' The crown prince smiled. ‘Because if history teaches us anything, it's that the nastier and more corrupt and vicious a ruler is, the more he needs officers and advisers of unimpeachable integrity. It's simply a matter of duty. You see,' he went on, relaxing his guard a little, ‘if I was a murderous usurper who was also wise, noble, magnanimous, far-sighted and compassionate, I wouldn't need people like you to keep me in line. But if I was wise, noble, magnanimous and all that stuff I wouldn't have done the murdering and the usurping to start with. And,' he added, ‘since most every dynasty in history's started off with at least some murdering and usurping, it's all a trifle academic anyway. That's the difference between people who hold power and people who do their duty; you have to be prepared to sink really low if you want to get to the top. And I really can't see a fine, upstanding dragon like you getting involved in some sordid plot to overthrow the king, can you? It'd be treason.'

‘I see,' the adjutant-general said. ‘In other words, you may be a treacherous scumbag, but I'm not.'

‘Precisely.' The crown prince smiled pleasantly. ‘And this is undoubtedly the start of a beautiful friendship. Now, if I were you I'd go and make peace with your daughter. She's waiting for you over there, look.'

‘Pieces of,' the adjutant-general grunted, ‘not peace with.'

The crown prince shook his head. ‘Absolutely not,' he said. ‘Think about it. If it hadn't been for her, we wouldn't have found out about this ghastly Willis human's awful schemes until rather later; later, quite possibly, as in too late. Thanks to her, we've dealt with the problem, and everything's fine.'

‘And you're now the king of the north-west.'

‘Everything's fine,' the crown prince repeated. ‘So please, don't be horrid to your nice daughter. And that's an order.'

The adjutant-general breathed out slowly through his nose. ‘Of course,' he said.