Did Dodger think he was crazy? Unhinged by his trials? “So you want me to see some friend of yours. He’s a doctor?”

“Among other things.”

“Another shadow.” Sam rubbed at the itchy stubble that was beginning to sprout on his chin. “You urge me to rely on myself while shoving me at strangers and suggesting that I put my head in their hands.”

“Enemies may come unbidden, but you must search for allies.”

“Platitudes, Dodger? What are you hiding behind them?”

Dodger said nothing for a moment, his Elven face still and suddenly alien. “I think you should see this person.”

Sam considered the Elf’s statement. Once more Dodger was avoiding a direct answer. He was surely hiding something. Whatever was behind Dodger’s mysterious manner, Sam sensed what he wanted to believe was a genuine concern. It might be mere wishful thinking, but, adrift in a sea of shadows, he needed such an anchor. Platitudes or not, it was true he needed allies. Could he afford to offend this one? “If I agree, what’s in it for your friend? And why are you, a shadowrunner, helping a corporate refugee? I’ve got a lot of questions, but I haven’t any credit.”

“We are not all as mercenary as Lady Tsung.” A slight hint of humor had crept in behind the stern mask, as though grimness were no longer necessary. Had Dodger divined that Sam had capitulated to his suggestion?

“But aren’t you part of her gang? I thought she was your boss.”

“ ’Tis true that the fair lady and I have worked together, but I am an independent operator. I have my own interests.”

Of course he did. No one who lived the shadow life ever seemed to be pursuing anything but his own interests. “And what are those interests here?”

“You are most persistent, Sir Corp. ‘Tis a sterling quality… sometimes.”

“I thought you changed my name, Dodger. And comments on the virtues, or vice, if you prefer, of my persistence won’t distract me.”

“Very well then, Sir Twist.” Dodger said, with a slight bow of his head. “Shall we say then that this circumstance offers me a way to discharge an old obligation to another?

“Your acceptance benefits others as well. The person whom I would have you meet will find your case of interest, and for him, that will likely be reward enough. You yourself gain. With this trip, you get out of the city and move onward to your goal. All this whilst your humble servant reduces an onerous burden.

“Everyone wins,” Dodger concluded, smiling.

“And the alternative?”

“Dost not bear thinking about.”

‘What choice do I have?”

“Always your own choice, of course.”

The Elf’s grin was beguiling, mischievous but friendly. Sam shook his head in bemusement and laughed. Once more events were tugging him forward, but this time the direction was positive. He would be going forward of his own will, toward his own goals. That was more control over his life than he’d had in a long time.

Despite Dodger’s flip comment, Sam had thought about the alternatives. Otherwise, a choice would be no choice. Though it was true that his need was forcing him toward it, he was armoring himself with his trust in Dodger’s sincerity and good will. If Dodger’s friend could make it easier to deck, then it would be easier for Sam to track down the murderers and bring them to justice. New as he was to shadowrunning, Sam knew that one did not throw away an advantage, however slim. Dealing with Dodger’s friend was a gamble, but it was a gamble that he would accept of his own free will. He stood up.

“Let’s go.”

25

Their destination proved to be a private compound at the western edge of the Portland city limits. From the gate, Sam could see that the estates enclosure extended out past the city’s barrier walls, expanding the owner’s turf beyond the city’s boundary. how far he could not tell; the mansion and groves of trees flanking it screened his view. Such a territory was in violation of the Tir Tairngire ordinances requiring all city properties to be completely within the series of concrete, wire, and electronic fences that separated the enclave city from the Tir proper. That the mansion’s grounds existed in such blatant disregard of those laws was an indication of the owner’s power in the Tir.

In the far distance beyond the compound, Sam could see a few tall spires of Elven design. Those would be the palatial residences of the ruling powers of the Tir. He knew that past those rambling estates and their woods lay Royal Hill, the mound said to be magically created, on which sat the Tir Tairngire capitol, a magnificent complex that was the working office and home of the High Prince. The estates surrounding Royal Hill were the property of the other princes and chosen councilors. It was a very exclusive neighborhood, and Dodger’s friend, with his blatantly illegal property, was likely a resident of high standing.

“You didn’t tell rue that you had these kinds of connections, Dodger.”

“I would prefer to term it an acquaintance rather than a connection, Sir Twist.”

“Whatever. If you had told me, I would have been less reluctant to come. At least I could have dressed better.”

“ ’Tis unlikely that we will be treated as formal guests.” Dodger led the way to the gatehouse. He pulled up short as a figure stepped from the doorway.

“What makes you think that you’ll be any kind of guest, Alley Runner?”

The speaker was tall, even for an Elf. His close-cropped raven hair and eyebrows contrasted sharply with his pale skin and eyes of glacial blue. His business suit and accessories were all of solid, middle-manager quality, and though well-tailored, seemed out of place on him. There was something about the Elf that was at once hard-bitten and romantic. Sam pictured him in full armor, its shine scuffed and dented with hard use. Maybe it was the set of his jaw, the impasssive expression, or the warily narrowed eyes.

“Avaunt, Estios. We’ve no business with you.”

“If you want to see the professor, you do.”

Dodger looked annoyed and seemed about to launch a retort. Then he shrugged in acceptance of something inevitable. He unholstered his pistol and handed it butt-first to Estios.

Estios smiled coldly as he received the weapon. He turned and re-entered the gatehouse. leaving Sam and Dodger to follow. Once inside, he led them past the reception counter without stopping. The crisply uniformed Knight Errant security staffer never said a word as the three men paced across his domain and through an ornate arch into a back room.

The inner chamber was sparsely furnished and dimly lit. Behind a clear panel that separated the room into two halves, an Ork in a white lab coat sat at a console. Her features were lit with the gray glow of the screens she monitored, making her expression grimmer and more inhuman than it might otherwise appear. Behind her stood a Dwarf. He was broader that she, but barely topped her in height even though she was seated. He wore an elaborate amulet on a heavy chain around his neck and the lapels of his jacket were studded with arcane symbols. The Dwarf mage leaned against the wall. Like Sato’s mage, he seemed to be spending his duty time dozing. Sam wondered what made magicians so indispensable that they could sleep on company time and get away with it.