"You don't understand," said Her Dragonship. "This green creature, as you call it, is the Mentors' Pet. They have watched the situation through monitors and they have sent me to correct the theft. Otherwise we will be punished."
"Correct the theft?" asked Fargo. "What do you mean by that? The hassock was given us by your niece freely."
"Nevertheless," said the Grand Dragon, "you two strangers and your ugly robot and this pet will be brought to the Mentors."
Norby said to Jeff in a furious whisper, " Are you just going to stand there and let her call me ugly?"
Oola whined and became more like a beagle than ever.
Fargo said, "This pet is my pet. It belongs to me now."
"No, she doesn't," screamed the Grand Dragon, stamping her foot, which was large and had wicked claws on it. "My guards will prove that by overpowering you…"
"That would not be sporting, Your Dragonship," said Fargo. He paused and bent down to Norby. "Have I got the right word? Jamyn is not an easy language to learn in a great hurry."
"Say it isn't fair.., Norby said in Jamyn. "Dragons don't play sports the way you do, but they are fair."
"Surely, Your Dragonship, you have some more civilized way of settling a dispute than brainless force?" Fargo smiled his most charming smile.
The dragon guards began to move toward him, but the Grand Dragon gestured them back. "This stranger appeals to our civilized nature," she said, "and no one can appeal to that in vain. It would be an insult to the Mentors otherwise."
She smiled, too, her pointed teeth and front fangs showing to full advantage. She adjusted her jeweled gold collar and stepped forward until she was only a few centimeters from Fargo. She was a little taller than he was, and, counting the tail, considerably bigger.
"There! It will be I alone against two of you and a robot. It is three to one in your favor so it is you who will be uncivilized, yet I will personally bring all of you to the Mentors."
"Is that indeed so?" said Fargo, as he thrust out his chin.
"Fargo!" said Jeff, reverting to Terran Basic, "Let's just go with her…"
"Never!" said Fargo, pushing up his sleeves.
"Listen, you're not going to try to punch her, are you?" asked Jeff. "Her fangs will tear into your knuckles."
"Fist fighting is crude," Fargo said, adjusting his stance. "I'm going to see if I can use any of tl}e defensive arts that Albany has taught me. I wouldn't mind having a sword or rapier, though. Cold steel against hot fang, eh?"
"This isn't funny!" said Jeff. "You can't win!"
Norby was ascending and descending on his telescopic legs, forcing his way between Jeff and Fargo and shouting, "Listen to me, you human idiots! The Jamyn respect tradition and authority and they never use force among themselves!"
"Well?" asked Fargo, "Are you trying to spoil the fun?"
"Of course. Your kind of fun is no fun. But there is something else…" He rose on antigrav and whispered in Fargo's ear.
Fargo nodded, but did not change his position, "En garde, sir, I mean, madam, Your Dragonship." He moved into the ready-to-attack position.
The Grand Dragon snorted and little puffs of smoke came out of her nostrils. "There, you see! You have made me revert to the primitivism of my ancestors; you have forced me to be angry enough to breathe fire. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. "
"It would not be fair for you to use fire," Fargo said.
"I do not intend to. I will cow you by the superior nature of my personality and take you all to the Mentors, who will imprison you."
The Grand Dragon and Fargo moved toward each other. They began circling, feinting, and reaching. Suddenly the Grand Dragon lunged and Fargo went head over heels. The Grand Dragon drew back in surprise. Clearly, she hadn't expected that to happen.
Fargo picked himself up with a groan. "She's quick."
Jeff watched the battle with sinking heart. Karate against slippery dragon scales was not working too well. Fargo managed to trip the Grand Dragon, who seemed more surprised than ever when she went down, but once she got back, she retaliated immediately, saying, "If you' are going to be aggressive, so will I."
"The fight isn't fair, Your Highness-ship;" said Fargo gravely. "Your arms are much longer than mine. May I have a short stick?"
"Certainly, since that will make all the more plain your uncivilized nature and force you to abase yourself to my higher culture."
"Norby," said Fargo, "go get the skewer in the galley. You know the one that you were curious about the other day. That ought to be about the right length."
Jeff's eyebrows shot up. The object Norby had been curious about had been an apple picker that Fargo had bought at a tool sale, a sticklike device with a collapsible grasper at one end for plucking apples too high to reach by hand. Fargo would buy anything that was a bargain, however useless. It was one of the reasons the family business had done so badly after the deaths of their parents.
The battle began again with Fargo wielding the apple picker against the Grand Dragon's sharp foreclaws (which, however, she wielded so carefully that Fargo had not yet been scratched).
They again circled and circled, reaching out, feinting; but the Grand Dragon was obviously getting angry over the fact that Fargo had not yet admitted her superiority and given in. She was puffing smoke in spite of herself and growing angrier still at this demonstration of her animal nature. Fargo took advantage of the manner in which her anger was disrupting her concentration. As she lunged forward, he leaped to one side, caught her arm, pulled her forward, and down she went.
"Bravo!" said Jeff.
"Stupid human being," muttered Norby. "Showing off, when I have told him how to conclude this ridiculous exercise in a perfectly simple way…"
"I'm not sure I should fight a female," said Fargo, pushing back his hair, "but there are no males on this planet for me to fight."
He stopped talking because the Grand Dragon was up, fire spurting out of her nostrils.
"That's very animal," said Fargo, waggling his apple picker at the Grand Dragon's nose.
She stifled the flame, but as Fargo sprang forward, she unfurled her wings and elevated, then made a feint at him from the air.
"Unfair!" shouted Jeff.
"It certainly is," said Fargo, reaching up with the apple picker, activating the grasper at the end and seizing the golden collar which circled her scaly neck-just as such collars circled the necks of every other dragon they had seen. One twist, a pull, and the collar was off.
"Mine!" shouted Fargo, "spoils of war!" He put it around his own neck, where it hung loosely.
Jeff watched what followed in amazement. The Grand Dragon, instead of soaring majestically, began to flap her wings frantically. The enormous effort broke her fall, but did not prevent it. She landed on the lawn with a loud "plop" and in a most undignified posture.
Her guards gaped. Zi and Zargl hid their mouths with their claws. Norby tittered metallically.
"What happened?" asked Jeff.
"This is an antigrav device," said Fargo, touching the collar. "I've been thinking that the dragons must be too heavy to fly, especially with such comparatively small wings, and Norby confirmed that."
"That's right, come to think of it," said Jeff. "They didn't have wings at all in their prehistoric history. Remember?"
"I do. The Mentors must have added them as part of their bioengineering program for esthetic reasons and perhaps to add stability in antigrav flight." Fargo elevated. "It's done mentally. One thinks 'up' and there one is. A great device. Probably Norby has one incorporated into his own works."