The Dragon Never Sleeps

— 36 —

Lady Midnight joined Turtle in Amber Soul's quarters. "She isn't any better, is she?" There were tears in her eyes.

"Neither better nor worse. She must be trapped in her own sorcery. We Ku have dozens of stories about sorcerers who destroyed themselves with their own magic. I wish I knew how to help."

"Time will help."

"I hope so. Is he treating you well?"

Midnight blushed. "Yes. Better than most. But..."

"He's basically decent, within the mandates of his culture. He wouldn't willfully do you a hurt. Yet he can destroy a world or exterminate a race without a qualm. What is Canon's is Canon's. What isn't shall be." He muttered, "The dragon never sleeps." Then, "You said ‘But.'"

"Someone has been harassing me. That woman who was there when they brought us here. She interrupts my sleep to call me names. And I don't even know who she is."

"She's a ghost gone rancid in her eternal life. It's not you she hates, it's me. I think we can circumvent her."

Did the Deified lose maturity with the millennia? Could an entire Guardship turn infantile?

Doubtful. This was a weakness of the ghost of Makarska Vis. "Excuse me? I was maundering."

"I asked if you know where we are. Not that it matters."

"No. But I know where we're going. Starbase Tulsa."

That name. It throbbed like the beat of primitive drums. Starbase Tulsa, the womb from which every Guardship sprang and to which every Guardship made its periodic hadj. If there was an object of greater dread than a Guardship it was that stellar citadel whence the invincible issued.

An entire mythology revolved around Starbase. It might be heaven or it might be hell. For the mass of humanity and those nonhumans adrift in Canon space, it was more of the latter. It was a place where devils spawned.

Midnight began to shiver. Her wings, which had lost so much of their luster and color already, drooped, faded. Her timidity could not withstand the onslaught of dread.

"We'll be no worse off than we are now, Midnight."

"I know. But I can't help it." Tears tracked her cheeks. She stared at Amber Soul.

Turtle did, too. "Stay with her. Try to get something down her. I think she senses our presence and concern, on some level, and that comforts her."

Midnight had a high empathy quotient and an inability to resist appeals. She would forget herself for a while, ministering to Amber Soul.

"I have a few chores to do. I'll be right back."

In his own suite Turtle examined the comm. Getting the Deified Makarska Vis was easy. In moments he had her on screen, looking vexed. "You!"

"Me. Greetings, Deified. Did I disturb you?"

"Yes."

"Good. You have been disturbing a friend of mine, presumably venting your spite on her because she is incapable of returning your vitriol."

The Deified Makarska Vis gushed filth.

"To me you are a ghost, a memory mummy impressed upon the motions of electrons. I am not awed. If you do not wish to be disturbed, you will stop harassing my friend."

Would it work? Was she possessed of sufficient determination to lock him out? He shrugged and returned to Midnight and Amber Soul.