‘To be frank,’ said Laniakea, ‘I am not here because I want to be.’
It was true. The conference, being the principle way Dragons established their hierarchy (via hoard-show-and-tell), was the sort of event that one would probably avoid if they had recently, say, had an incredibly powerful item—some kind of Infernomicon, for example—removed from said hoard. Especially with the kind of reputation, and thus enemies, Laniakea had already.
She’d taken the three into her own security trailer, which was considerably smaller than the one Benzene had brought them along in. It had a similar layout, but with a conspicuous lack of security personnel. In fact, apart from Merlin, Ursa, and Nora, the only other people were Adagio and Laniakea herself.
‘I know not how your Director knew of my intentions to attend, despite it resulting in my loss of stature. I am nevertheless grateful for his loaning of yourselves,’ Laniakea went on, moving over to a cabinet made of deep brown wood that looked totally out of place. ‘I have security staff that I do not trust to guard me in the state I shall be in after this.’
Ursa shifted nervously. ‘You think something’s going to, uh, happen at the event?’
‘No. I think they would stab me in the back once my power is reduced. As such they have been… let go.’
See, since Dragons are so deeply aligned with Order, and their hoards are the method by which they rank one another, a Dragon’s personal power is tied directly to that ranking. The intensity of their breath weapons will ebb and flow based on how many other Dragons agree that their hoard is in the top ten, for example. Some might say that reversing cause and effect in this manner isn’t very Ordered at all, but oddly enough, nobody’s ever said this to a Dragon’s face for some reason.
Of course, Merlin, Ursa, and Nora didn’t know this. They probably just took it as another of the slightly deranged things Laniakea said sometimes. And oddly enough, nobody wanted to say so to her face for some reason.
Laniakea retrieved a snifter from the cabinet along with a large bottle of what looked to be brandy, and began to pour herself a glass. ‘The event is starting now,’ she said. ‘Shameful as it is, I am… feeling trepidation.’
Adagio piped up as Laniakea gulped down her drink. ‘Lania, we’ve got a whole group now, so it’s not like we’ll stick out too much. And we already agreed we’d just stick around for the actual ranking and then get going home. I promise it’ll be over before you know it.’
‘I should have sent a proxy, like Merensky always does,’ said Laniakea over the glug glug glug of her glass refilling.
‘You said the only proxy you’d trust would be me. And there’s no way I’m going in there by myself, with all those weirdoes.’
‘Draconic society is highly refined.’
‘What if one of them collects Angels though?’
Laniakea took another sip of brandy. ‘Hoards cannot consist of living creatures. You cannot “own” them. Even if Pyrite skirts the bounds of that.’
In response to this, Adagio just blinked very slowly. ‘What if one of them collects dead Angels?’ she said, eventually.
‘Actually,’ interjected Nora, seeing an opportunity, ‘Part of our role as security consultants would involve reconnoitering the venue and attendees. We could go and find out what the other Dragons have brought?’
The Dragon and Angel turned to regard her.
‘Especially Mr. Pyrite?’ she tried.
This got a nod from Laniakea.
‘Wait, Nora,’ said Merlin, ‘Maybe you should stay here with Laniakea? Have a few drinks together, get her feeling a bit more at ease?’
Nora gave him a hard stare, but Ursa cut in before she could say anything. ‘Hey, let’s not split the… security team.’
⁂
‘What the fuck, Merlin?’ said Nora, when they were safely outside and out of earshot. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’
‘No, not at all,’ said Merlin. ‘I’ll explain later. Really,’ he added, when Nora kept on glaring at him. ‘Look, Pyrite’s over there in the queue. You’re the one with the working relationship with him, so Ursa and I will head back to Benzene and check in, while you try to find out if his presence complicates the job.’
‘And we can hopefully reassure Laniakea, too,’ said Ursa.
‘Laniakea is at the very bottom of my list of concerns today,’ said Merlin.
And so, Nora went over to speak with Mr. Pyrite as the other two doubled back. He seemed not at all surprised to see her; a wide smile spread across his face at her approach.
‘Nora, as I live and breathe! What brings yourself to our humble li’l convention?’
Nora took a deep breath. ‘Actually, I’m here with Laniakea.’
Pyrite’s smile only widened. ‘Laniakea is actually attending in person? Well, bless her heart, what a trooper.’
‘Mm,’ said Nora. ‘Look, I wanted to give you a word of warning. Maybe it’d be best to hang fire on showing off the book you stole?’
This finally wiped the smile away. Mr. Pyrite glanced around surreptitiously. ‘Now, Nora, I’d be much obliged if you’d keep your voice a little lower, ‘specially if you’re making such spurious claims. However, I do see your point, and I’m delighted to reassure you that the item you are referring to is not a part of my hoard. I believe it was dropped into another world at random. Where would I have found the time to go looking for it?’
‘Then in that case—’ said Nora, before noticing who Pyrite was with. She hadn’t recognised her at first, since she was dressed in a smart blazer and pencil skirt, with her hair back in a neat, high bun instead of the natural afro it had been previously.
Minette gave her a smile without showing the greens of her teeth.
‘Alright, she definitely can’t be here,’ said Nora. ‘That’s just asking for trouble.’
Mr. Pyrite seemed unintimidated. ‘Should Laniakea have a problem with my secretary, or indeed anyone on my staff, I am more than willing to step up to bat on their behalf.’
Seeing Nora’s gaze, he rolled his eyes at his own theatricality. ‘It won’t come to that, though. Laniakea and I aren’t in the same, ah, weight class any more. Or, we won’t be in an hour or so.’
‘Why?’ asked Nora, carefully. ‘What have you brought?’
Pyrite checked again for eavesdroppers, then leaned in. He retrieved a single sheet of A4 paper, neatly folded in his breast pocket. ‘Now, you understand this only a representation; the full thing is on around 250,000 sheets in a storage container back home.’
Nora peered at it. It was covered in tiny, cramped handwriting, without any spaces. Just a series of four repeating letters. ‘Is that…?’
‘The human genome,’ said Mr. Pyrite. ‘Written out, by hand, by one of the contributors to the project that finally mapped it out. As far as true names are concerned, said name belonged to them. And now it belongs to me.’
‘Said name being… the true name of the entire human race?’
‘Ain’t it something special? I reckon I might give ol’ Merensky a run for her money this time.’
As Nora made her excuses, Pyrite looked her dead in the eye. ‘Now you look after youself, y’hear, Nora? I wouldn’t want to waste an investment.’
⁂
‘So, what was that about back there?’ asked Ursa.
‘What?’
‘Merlin. I’m worried about you. You’re on edge, and I understand that, but even before this you’ve been, you know, blowing up chimneys and stabbing old ladies, and now it seems like you were trying to get Nora killed?’
‘What?’ said Merlin again. ‘Oh. No, I just thought it’d be a good opportunity to get some information. And Nora seemed like the best candidate to keep up with a Dragon on drinks.’
They’d reached the bus, but Ursa hesitated. ‘I guess?’ she said. ‘But I dunno, it just seems like you’re taking all these risks and not caring about the consequences. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.’ She stepped up as the doors opened. ‘Or hurting anyone else.’
Inside, Benzene Petcoke stood, panting and iridescent with sweat, over what was left of Caesura. His hands were stained red. His sleeves, though, were clean.
Caesura was not. Had it not been for her clothing, Ursa thought she might not have recognised her. Benzene gave the body another hammering blow for good measure.
Then he straightened up, getting blood on his tie as he adjusted it. ‘She wanted out,’ he said, to Merlin and to Ursa. ‘I accepted.’
‘When Rembra came back and reported that Laniakea was onsite, and we’d have to modify our approach,’ stammered Merlin’s father, once they’d found him making himself small on a back row seat. ‘Caesura got up and made for the door. Said that even if Benzene had hostages, that wouldn’t do any good if she got killed herself. And, uh… he didn’t take it very well.’
‘Are you kidding?’ came Benzene’s voice from the front. He was wiping his hands with a moist towelette. ‘I took it in stride. See, I didn’t even use my spear. That’s called restraint.’ He winked at Amyll, then turned to address Phency, who apparently hadn’t noticed the corpse yet. ‘Can you get rid of that?’
Phency did, as Benzene sat himself down and began to theatrically ponder up a new plan. He even put a fist to his chin in traditional thinking pose.
The door opened. It wasn’t Phency back from his somewhat macabre errand, it was Nora, who stood quite still and looked pointedly at the bloodstain in the aisle.
‘Someone having a bad day?’ she asked.
‘There’s been a change of plan,’ was Benzene’s response. ‘Amyll will be going in with our three Caliber guests. Since we no longer have our solution for the wards on the entrance, you’ll use that green Dragon you’re apparently already acquainted with to get in as “official” security.
‘Amyll, you’ll be making the counterfeit on the fly since we won’t be able to smuggle it in anymore.’
‘Benzene, I don’t know if—‘
‘You’ll do great,’ said Benzene, and that was the end of it. ‘Rembra, you’re still going to be needed to even find our target, which means you’ll need to find a way in separately. We don’t want the Dragon recognising the mole from her workforce.’
Merlin glanced at his Dad, who’d stopped cowering and had gone alarmingly still. ‘How did you know we told Laniakea we were here as her security?’ he asked.
Benzene only grinned. ‘It’s hardly much of a leap, Merlin. Has anyone ever told you you’re too suspicious? Or that you take too many risks?’
Ursa recoiled at this ever so slightly.
⁂
So it was that the three of them, plus Amyll—introduced to Laniakea as another Caliber agent—approached the main entrance with a soon-to-be-disgraced green Dragon and her Angelic plus one. Amyll had already fabricated suits in the style of the other security guards (plus a hot pink one for Ursa), and they kept close to their ’employer’, again in the style of the other guards.
The proximity worked out quite well, as Laniakea clearly had a lot more liquor in her cabinet and occasionally needed propping up.
‘Alright,’ said Merlin, catching up. ‘We should be on the digital list. Hopefully Laniakea will have enough… cognizance to convince the door staff to let us through the wards.’
Both Ursa and Nora ignored him. Ursa was in the process of texting Alkahest for info on Benzene—no luck—and Nora had just learned that her attempts to get info from the Caliber servers via Morris had been thwarted by some sort of digital labyrinth trap, that her patron was now somewhat stuck inside.
‘Yes, let’s hope so,’ said Amyll, presumably in an attempt to keep him from feeling neglected.
They were next in the queue. A doorman at a desk with a laptop hastily set up on it besides a potted plant, and a doorman standing by a large monolithic doorway with faintly twinkling runes. Both doormen eyed them with professional suspicion. The potted plant made no comment.
‘Laniakea and uh… entourage,’ provided Adagio.
The laptop doorman nodded. The monolith doorman gestured for them to step through.
After Laniakea and Adagio made it through unmolested, next was Merlin’s turn. He stepped forward… and stopped. Trying to push through the doorway was like pushing through plastic wrap. His nose even pressed flat against the rest of his face.
‘Sir, could you step aside please?’ asked the guard. His hand had gone to the softly humming knife on his hip.
‘…What. Is the meaning of this?’ asked Laniakea, staggering back towards the commotion.
‘It, uh, won’t let me through,’ explained Merlin. ‘We might have been missed off the guest list.’
A matchstick-thin wisp of green gas escaped from the corner of Laniakea’s mouth, the alcohol on her breath mixing with it for even greater potency.
‘Actually, Ma’am,’ began the guard.
Then Laniakea was in his face, and writhing tendrils of her breath weapon had billowed out around him. ‘I see how it is. This event. I was not supposed to be attending, was I?’
‘Uh. Uh. I don’t know, Ma’am? I’m not in charge of the guest list…’
‘You assumed I would cower atop my empire, like a babe ripped from the royal breast.’
Adagio tried to waft away some of the gas. ‘I’m sure he didn’t think that, babe. Like I can almost guarantee that’s not a thing he thought.’
Laniakea was in full nihilistic fury, though. ‘And now, your little gate would bar us entry? Cast me as a pauper outside the banquet hall, one who should be content with scraps from the table?’
The cloud of gas had reached the man’s collar now. He was sweating, or crying, or both.
‘Merler. Merlo. Mer.’ She huffed out another poisonous breath and gave up. ‘Small Gnome. Go around the gate. These fools have brought a gate which is too narrow for the corridor.’
The laptop guard chimed in. ‘Ma’am, it’s not a barrier, it’s just a way for us to check—’
Laniakea gnashed her teeth and ignited the gas, along with the doorman’s shirt and trousers. He began to roll on the floor and rip them off, as Lanakea stepped past and the others followed without further scrutiny.
The laptop guard tipped the potted plant over his compatriot, damp soil putting out the last of the fire.
‘Why’d you have to say that, Paul?’ asked the now-charred monolith guard.
The other one just shrugged.
Inside the convention centre proper, hundreds of Dragons and their security details milled from stall to display to meet-and-greet. It really was like a proper convention.
They eyed a display of swords that absolutely thrummed with esoteric power. Several other Dragons were inspecting the selection, discussing the exploits of the one who’d provided them.
KINDLY LOANED FOR THIS DISPLAY BY ETA ARGUS, read the card on their stand.
‘You can see on this one he only added it last Tuesday,’ said one of the onlookers, referring to a detail invisible to non-Draconic eyes.
‘Yeah, and according to the metadata he’s already killed eighteen people with it,’ said another. They all laughed.
‘Ugh,’ said Laniakea. ‘We are early. I’ll be at the bar until the ranking.’
‘Wait,’ said Ursa, ‘Do we need to come with you then? As your security?’
Laniakea slowed her absconding. ‘I will reveal to you a secret. Pink one. The legions of security personnel that each Dragon here has to guard them? Pageantry. You are here for show. And I do not intended to be noticed. You can amuse yourselves, I’m sure.’
And then she left, Adagio in tow, pushing past a shorter Dragon who seemed to be about to ask to chat with her. They could, indeed, amuse themselves.
‘Sup, dickfish?’ came Rembra’s voice.
‘So, you got in,’ said Merlin. Then, ‘Hold on, “dickfish”?’
‘I’m diversifying my lexis.’
‘Oh. Well, shut up. I’m trying to spot the alarm panel.’
‘Why?’
Earlier, Merlin had added a code to the hall’s fire panel that when entered would totally disable the alarms. ‘Just in case,’ he said, omitting the important parts.
As they walked around, seeing the same shorter Dragon now showing Mr. Pyrite a rune-etched candle and asking if he’d be willing to add his breath to her hoard of flames, seeing an athletic-looking Dragon with antlers holding a Q&A about his hoard of bottled shipwrecks, and ignoring another who tried to show them his hoard of telephones, Amyll decided to provide a fun fact.
‘You know, with my smelling of how old things are, that actually does apply to the Dragons here. I know their power corresponds to their standing, not their age, but there is a correlation.’
She slowed down a bit. ‘And… that woman there might be the oldest Dragon here.’
Said woman was calmly sat at a table groaning under the weight of clockwork upon it. Mostly timepieces, but with the occasional more obscure curio like a music box or orrery. As they watched, a little window in one opened to emit a cuckoo made of glass or crystal or psychic energy.
‘You’re staring,’ said the Dragon. ‘Interested in timekeeping?’
Merlin, finding that nobody else seemed to want to reply, took the lead. ‘Uh, I do have a more than passing interest, but we’re actually here at the behest of Laniakea. Securing the area and all that.’
‘Ha! Laniakea’s here, then, is she? Is she sulking?’
‘You might say that, uh…?’
‘Merensky,’ said the Dragon. When none of them recoiled or bowed down, she continued: ‘the Platinum Timekeeper.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ said Merlin, failing to react to the title. He held out his hand in formal greeting, but this only got a look from Merensky.
‘I wouldn’t risk that, if I were you,’ she said. ‘That’s speaking as someone with a soft spot for Laniakea. Wouldn’t want to damage her staff.’
‘Is that a threat?’ asked Nora, as Merlin’s hand retracted.
‘No, no, of course not,’ said Merensky, with a genuine, friendly smile. ‘Just a risk. But fuck off for now, yeah? Tell Laniakea to come visit me in Upton.’
They did, heading back towards the opposite side of the convention where the stage had been set up. There was a lot of ground to cover, and they still had to find—
‘Will you watch where you’re going, you diminutive little creep?’
Merlin stopped, plastering a look of polite serenity on his face. These were Dragons, even if it was the most stressful day of Merlin’s life. So far.
The Dragon responsible for this outburst had, ironically enough, not been looking where he was going, and instead craning his neck to make out as many different stands and displays as possible.
He was short, though obviously not as short as Merlin-the-actual-Gnome, and his skin was an unnatural red that was only growing hotter and brighter. Over his right eye was an eyepatch, the strings of which went back into his carefully quaffed hair.
Merlin eyed his designer stubble and furious snarl.
‘Sorry about that?’ he tried, diplomatically. When this didn’t quell the rising fury, he added, ‘…sir?’
Still nothing.
‘We’re actually here with Laniakea,’ continued Merlin. ‘If we’ve caused offence you’re more than welcome to take it up with her.’
This, this got a reaction. For a brief second, the Dragon looked ready to drop his humanoid form and tear the Gnome apart; a sludgy wave of heat rolled over them like they’d opened the door of a dirty oven. But the fire was quenched as quickly as it had been aroused.
‘Pah,’ said the Dragon, hefting his briefcase and storming past. ‘I don’t have time for infants. Much as I’d like to teach Laniakea a lesson by taking her minions away. Where the hell is that platinum hag?!’ He continued his muttering as he vanished into the crowd.
Merlin glanced towards Ursa. ‘See? I’m an absolute master of restraint, thank you very much.’
‘Does he have beef with Laniakea or something?’ wondered Ursa.
Nora didn’t reply, though. She was looking towards Rembra, whose nose was twitching like she’d just got a nostril full of cartoon pepper. ‘That’s our guy. He’s got the thing we want to steal.’
This got a resounding cry of despair from all present, but the loudest came from Ursa and Nora respectively: ‘Nooooooooooooo,’ and ‘Fuck that guy’.
Roll History 