Stalking the Dragon by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

closer look.
    â€œIs he dangerous?” asked Mallory.
    â€œI suppose it depends on whether or not you're fireproof,” said the old man. He turned to the dragon. “C'mere and say hello.”
    The dragon reached the fence and stretched his neck out over it.
    â€œLet him smell the back of your hand,” said the old man.
    Mallory held his hand out. The dragon took a deep sniff, and it was all the detective could do to keep his entire arm from being inhaled.
    â€œNow you and Cuddles are friends,” said the old man.
    â€œCuddles?” repeated Mallory disbelievingly.
    â€œYeah,” said the old man admiringly. “Ain't he a sweetie?”
    â€œI have to admit it's not the first word that would have come to mind,” said Mallory.
    â€œWell, he's an adolescent now, but when he matures…”
    â€œYou mean he's going to get bigger ?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œWhere the hell do you show him? I don't think they could get him into Madison Round Garden, even through the truck entrance.”
    â€œNot all dragons are for show,” explained the old man. “Some are bred for hunting, some for sport like knight baiting. Cuddles here was bred to fight off any jet plane attacks over Manhattan, the Bronx, and Lower South Brooklyn.”
    â€œSounds like a no-win situation to me,” remarked Mallory. “He may be awesome flesh and blood, but he's still just flesh and blood against a jet fighter plane.”
    The old man smile. “He can melt a jet at two hundred yards.”
    â€œAnd they can shoot him at, what, two miles?” said Mallory.
    â€œPart of his training program here is to learn evasive maneuvering.”
    â€œIsn't that his pilot's function?”
    â€œThey have a way of losing pilots,” said the old man, rubbing the dragon's nose.
    â€œI noticed,” said Mallory dryly.
    There was a sudden roar, and a sheet of flame shot out, singeing the dragon's hindquarters. It squealed in surprise while Mallory dove to the ground, then gingerly stuck his head up and looked around.
    â€œWhat the hell was that?” he said.
    â€œOh, just Cutie-Pie,” said the old man, indicating another huge dragon. “She saw me petting Cuddles, and she's jealous.”
    Mallory got to his feet. “Well, it's obvious the dragon I'm looking for isn't here. Is there a facility on the island that specializes in toy dragons?”
    â€œJust down the road a stretch,” said the old man. “Maybe half a mile, keep to your left when it forks, and look for the asbestos-lined doghouses.”
    â€œThanks,” said Mallory. Suddenly he saw a flash of white in the distance. “What's that?” he asked.
    â€œThe guy in the white lab coat? He's from the DDI.”
    â€œThe DDI?” repeated Mallory.
    â€œThe Dragon Dietary Institute. He's testing some cockamamie theory that their diet gives them heartburn and that their flame is proof of it.”
    â€œWhat do these big dragons eat?”
    â€œAnything smaller than themselves,” replied the old man.
    â€œWith that broad a diet, it sounds like he's got a tough theory to prove.”
    â€œStill, it keeps him employed. I know writers and actors who'd kill for a steady paycheck.”
    â€œYou can add detectives to the list,” said Mallory, heading off toward the toy dragon farm. He turned to Jeeves as they walked. “If she's here, are you sure you'll be able to spot her?”
    â€œShe is the most recognizable toy dragon in history,” the gremlin assured him.
    Mallory looked ahead and saw the top of a farmhouse. “That must be it.”
    â€œI suppose so,” said Jeeves.
    Mallory grimaced. “We'll go through the motions, but I'll give plenty of ten-to-one that we're not going to find her here. This whole thing feels wrong.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œIf I were stealing the most valuable and recognizable dragon in the world, the last place I'd