The pocket of his coveralls felt weighed down by the case of instruction chips the professor had given him. Scanning a few of them on the panzer’s computer hadn’t done much for his peace of mind. They made him nervous, and he hadn’t even tried any of the exercises yet. The familiar hurt of machine interface was a lot more comfortable; he understood that, or thought he did. It made a lot more sense and seemed a lot more real than all of the professor’s talk about magic.

“She’s patched,” Begay announced as the soldering gun rattled back into the tool bin.

“Good. We’ll move at dark then?”

“Can’t wait. Gonna have to move fast till we get out of Sioux territory. Those Wildcats will get word out and have half the Sioux military down on our heads. Only easy way through Sioux territory is to avoid being spotted, and it’s too late for that.” Begay scanned the landscape. “Gonna cut north. It’s the shortest way out of Sioux Lands. Longer overall, but healthier, because there are more places to hide. You still willing to fly the ultra-light?”

Sam looked up. It would mean interfacing with the craft’s sensors. “If you think it will help.”

“Eyes in the sky never hurt. When we hit the badlands, we can’t afford to waste time running up a blind canyon.”

“Let’s go then.”

They were mounted in minutes, Sam in the gunner’s couch because Begay didn’t want to launch the drone just yet. The Thunderbird howled into the twilight.

Hart sat listening to the chatter on the Sioux military radio channels. Civilian possession of a receiver able to pick up those channels was illegal within Council lands. That didn’t worry her too much; her very presence in the Sioux Council was illegal, for she had no valid entry permit. As soon as her translator told her what was happening, she smiled. This time she had guessed right. She was only hours away from the quarry and well-positioned to intercept. If she sent Tessien on the right sweep, before long they’d have Verner for good.

32

A sound like a dog’s bark startled Sam from the reverie of flying. He had been daydreaming, reveling in the freedom he felt at the controls of the little Eagle. The ultra-light was slow and sluggish compared to the sleek mono-wings he had flown in Japan, but after the claustrophobic confines of the panzer, the open sky around him was a joy. Half-dreaming he may have been, but not so far gone he couldn’t tell that the noise he’d heard had come from the radio. A glance at the Comm panel showed no light indicating an open channel with Thunderbird. The sound was a random burst of radio noise, then.

He checked the navigation screen. Seeing that he had drifted a bit from the planned course, he banked the Eagle into a gentle turn to Correct the error. The late afternoon sky was a brilliant blue, spotted with islands of cloud. In the distance, he could see an occasional thunderstorm cell towering among its fluffier kin. Beneath him, the land stretched away in a subtle tapestry of gray and brown, with only the occasional patch of dark green.

Through gaps in the mounds of clouds, Sam found the Thunderbird exactly where she was supposed to be. The panzer’s shadow bobbed and darted according to the vagaries of the terrain, sometimes racing ahead of the vehicle and sometimes falling behind as it negotiated the open badlands. The T-bird could make better speed, but it would mean traveling at a higher altitude that would invite an enemy’s missiles. Lacking the stealthy profile that allowed the Eagle to slip unnoticed through the skies, the mass of the panzer would almost inevitably register on radar if she flew above a certain height. Stealth was important as long as they were still within the boundaries of the Sioux Council.

Thoughts of missiles became immediate as Sam noted a second shadow rippling over the ground. This one was more slender and faster-moving. Its shape seemed to flicker and change more than could be accounted for by the terrain. The puzzle resolved when he realized that the shape casting this shadow had wings, which beat as it flew. Magnification confirmed the approaching object’s nature.

Sam’s extremities went cold, while at the same time sweat began to bead on his forehead. The second shadow belonged to a Dragon. Watching with increasing trepidation. Sam saw the dracoform pass over a buffalo herd, apparently without noticing the animals. For their part, the bison decided that they wanted urgently to be elsewhere. If the Dragon wasn’t hunting, what was it doing out here? Sam thought he knew the answer.

“T-bird,” he called as he activated the radio link, “you’ve got a Dragon on intercept vector. Two o’clock relative.”

“Say again. A what?”

“A Dragon.”

“Roger,” Begay responded calmly. The Thunderbird banked hard as the rigger spoke, changing its heading.

If the newcomer was headed in their direction, it would soon be obvious. Sam prayed hard, but the Dragon adjusted direction to maintain an intercept course. To Begay, he reported, “Still following.”

“Roger. It’ll get nasty, then. Flash me a terrain pic, then stay high and keep your eyes open. I need to know if anyone else is coming to play.”

Maybe Sam was being unduly worried. Begay seemed unperturbed by the Dragon, less excited than during the brush with the Sioux Wildcats. Maybe his confidence was based on knowing what to expect. If so, Sam wanted to give him as much time as possible. He quickly keyed the instructions to the Eagle’s computer, sending the terrain data downlink to appear on the panzer’s navigation screen. That would let Begay select the best available spot for the coming confrontation.

Begay knew his vehicle, its capabilities, and its limitations. Why shouldn’t he be confident? A Dragon was a mighty beast, but it was still an animal. What kind of animal was a match for even a light panzer like the Thunderbird? The beast would need composite armor like the T-bird’s own to resist the 20mm shells of the chain gun, let alone the heavy vehicle killers that the main cannon could spew. This would be a short fight.

From his conversations with Begay, Sam knew that the rigger would try to keep the conflict as brief as possible. Not only to keep from attracting other unwanted attention, but to keep from using too many expendables that would cut into his profit margin.

The panzer lifted out of the valley and passed over a ridge into another gully that stretched toward an open space surrounded by sentinel mesas. Rushing across the clearing and banking across the lower slope of one of the boundary formations, the Thunderbird kicked up pebbles and dust. On the flat again, she ran back toward the gully more slowly, her turret angled toward the Dragon’s approach.

The Thunderbird’s chain gun ripped up real estate where the Dragon had first showed its fanged head, but the beast put on a burst of speed just before it broke cover. The unscathed serpent swept in toward the panzer.