DONAR

by Bonnie Burrows

  “Oh, Sir Thrax and Agena Morrow,” Donar recalled. “That was a very big thing, with the Scodax. The whole planet was on edge for quite a while after that—at least until Sir Rawn Ullery turned up alive. When he appeared, he was all that anyone could talk about.”

  “Sir Rawn!” said Burton. “That was an incredible story. The greatest Knight of Lacerta, the only one who’d been genetically engineered for enhanced strength and fire-breathing—he’d been lost in space for all those years. Everyone thought he was dead—and then, he just showed up again, right when everyone was catching their breath after the Scodax thing.”

  “And then, there was the news about his relationship with that reporter, Joanna Way, who was kidnapped by that deranged scientist who served the Chimerians,” Brianne remembered. She looked off a bit at that, as if her mind were suddenly somewhere else—perhaps imagining Sir Rawn with Joanna. Sir Rawn—the biggest, most powerful, most beautiful dragon male of them all, now the lover of that media woman.

  What must it be like for Joanna Way to share the bed of Sir Rawn, to be the object of his constant and all-consuming desire? To have him mounting her and entering her at every opportunity, to be on the receiving end of what was surely his mighty and prodigious Lacertan maleness every night and likely every morning? A faraway look came over her.

  She snapped back to attention at the sound of Donar’s voice: “Hello? Brianne?”

  Mildly flustered, she focused back on Donar. “Oh…I’m sorry. My mind wandered a bit, thinking of the things Lacerta has been through recently.” That was exactly the right diversion from what had actually taken hold of her thoughts.

  “The whole thing with the mutated grass dragons and the clone of the High Chimerian—imagine that old nightmare coming back to haunt the world. And that Interstar Fleet Officer, Leanne Shire, who saved the whole planet from it with that tech of hers. What happened with her wanting to become a Lacertan?”

  “Lieutenant Commander Shire was one of the few to pass the screening, from what I’ve heard,” replied Donar. “By this time—I’m sure with the help of her lover, Sir Coram Dunne—she should be a full-fledged weredragon.”

  Brianne shook her head. “Three human women, going through all that danger…”

  “And ending up with dragon Knights as partners,” Donar observed. “Imagine that.”

  “Yes,” said Brianne. “Imagine.”

  There was a beat of silence in the lab now. Burton and Sondra glanced at each other and looked away, turning their attention back to the hologram, in which Damara was now swimming up to the surface of the lake.

  Brianne found her voice again. “Well, I guess danger and adversity can bond people pretty strongly. Though in the case of that Agena, the ‘bonding’ was already going on when the danger happened. I’ve heard about the Lotteries, and the Courting Chateaux where they go after they’ve been matched, and how busy they get once they get there.”

  “Busy indeed,” said Donar, “trying to compensate for the difficulty we have in breeding and maintaining our population. It can take a great deal of time.” He paused, then added very meaningfully, “And a great deal of effort.”

  A tingle shot through both Brianne and Donar when he mentioned that. Brianne took a breath to calm the slight jolt in her nerves. A new and further curiosity came over her. “What about you and Conran? Why haven’t you two been in the Lotteries? Why aren’t you away somewhere in a Chateau trying to help with the population problem? That is, if it isn’t too personal, if you don’t mind my asking…?”

  “No, I don’t mind. If you want to know the truth, Conran and I have both considered submitting ourselves for the Lotteries. It would be seen as our duty, after all, to help maintain the numbers of our people, to help keep our economy sustainable. And we are very eligible, being in our position…”

  “So…why haven’t you been…involved?”

  Donar replied with a gentle smile, “Because of the great amount of time and effort we were discussing. Admittedly, it’s the most pleasing effort and the most pleasing way to spend all that time. Many Lacertans leap at the chance to be paired in the Lotteries because once we’ve been paired, we are given a special exemption from all other activities.

  Jobs and work are suspended, and all of the citizen’s needs are provided for, until a pairing has been successful and a nest has begun.” He leaned in to her and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Some of us actually call it ‘subsidized screwing.’ Or even ‘financed fucking.’”

  Brianne almost burst out cackling at that. She gave a little yelp of sudden amusement and put her hand to her mouth, restraining a peal of loud laughter, as Donar leaned back from her, grinning and nodding. She looked over at Burton and Sondra and caught them casting her a somewhat bemused expression.

  As Brianne composed herself, Donar went on, “My brother and I are so eligible that we don’t have any need for it, if you take my meaning. Being wealthy, we have no need to be paid for Lottery service. And there are exemptions and deferments for persons highly placed in government and industry, who help to maintain our society in other ways.

  Conran and I have considered waiving our deferments and exemptions and taking on the duty. But our parents wanted us to devote ourselves to the transition of the family business from their hands to ours. Some day we still might submit ourselves for the Lottery. As I said, it would be…fun.”

  Her burst of laughter having subsided, Brianne allowed herself a soft, subtle little chuckle. “As much fun for whoever the Lottery matched with you as it would be for you.”

  “Of course,” said Donar.

  Again, they settled into a beat of silence. Brianne reflected on the Lotteries that they had discussed. It was a fact of Lacertan life that the mutation that had rendered them from human space colonists to awesome dragon metamorphs had inhibited their ability to reproduce. Once contact was reestablished between Lacerta and Earth and its other colonies, the planet had instituted the Lotteries to bring in pure humans with whom the dragon men and women could breed more easily, saving their colony and helping them to build one of the most beautiful and prosperous worlds in known space.

  The Lotteries had become an established part of Lacertan culture, as celebrated as any festival or major sporting event on any other planet, and frequently the object of fierce competition for the chance to participate.

  Brianne could only imagine how many human females would compete for the opportunity to lie with Donar and Conran Quist, for the pleasure of their beds, even knowing that they would thus be obliged to bear weredragon young. Many women of Earth and its territories would consider it a small price to pay—and would even find the Quist brothers desirable husbands or life partners. And Brianne had to admit, she could hardly blame them.

  Donar turned his attention to the holoprojection. Damara had climbed up from the edge of the lake and found a rock on which to perch and sun herself. She sat on the rock with her head held up and took in the rays from above, the wet fur of the pelt on her back glistening in the daylight. “You know,” Donar said thoughtfully, “the purpose of our Lotteries and the purpose of your project are not so far apart. We try to sustain a population. Your work is about bringing one back from the brink.”

  “The cralowogs won’t be on the brink for long,” said Brianne. “Damara will be the start of it. I can feel it.”

  “I can feel you’re correct,” Donar agreed.

  Brianne and Donar allowed themselves one little look at one another and one little smile before they returned their attention to the view of Damara.

  CHAPTER SIX

  That night, the reception at the Quist mansion got under way. Upon leaving the lab to return to her guest quarters and prepare for the festivities, Brianne found that Conran Quist had indeed thought of everything. An evening gown lay across her bed, ready for her to slip into. It was a long, sleek, shiny frock in deep blue, with star patterns dappled upon it in the finest, most polished Lacertan quartz. She could tell at first sight that it would be
the most elegant, most beautifully comfortable thing she had ever worn.

  And once she had finished her bath and styled her hair for the evening, she found she was right. It hugged her body like a cool embrace. Studying herself in the full-body reflector in her room, she felt not like a spacefaring scientist, but almost like a lady of another time, someone out of an ancient storybook. She could easily imagine herself on the arm of one of the Knights of Lacerta themselves, someone like a Sir Thrax Helmer or a Sir Rawn Ullery.

  Or even a dragon male who was not a Knight but was instead high-born—like a Conran or Donar Quist. As fantasies went, it was one she did not mind entertaining.

  _______________

  The moment Brianne stepped through the threshold of the ballroom, she froze, her skin tingling with alarm, at a trilling sound that filled the spacious room in front of her and turned every head in a throng of people, human and otherwise, in her direction. Brianne’s eyes darted about, looking for something, she did not know what. What was the purpose of that sound? Had she done something? Had she unwittingly committed some breach of Lacertan protocol, some faux pas, at the very moment she appeared? What was happening?

  A second later, the voice of the mansion computer announced to all attending, “Please welcome tonight’s guest of honor, Dr. Brianne Heatherton.”

  Brianne relaxed, somewhat embarrassed, as a wave of applause and greetings washed over her. She looked off, smiling sheepishly, imagining what shade of pinkish red she must be turning right now. Through the crowd of guests and well-wishers stepped Conran Quist, wearing his finest burgundy-red formal skin suit with gold trim, looking every bit the dragon prince he was. He carried two glasses of wine and handed one to Brianne, who gratefully took it. Just a step behind Conran was Donar, similarly outfitted in green, gold, and black.

  The room was filled with dignitaries from all over the Lacertan colony settlements and a half dozen or more non-human planets. The Quist twins escorted Brianne into the party and began to introduce her around. She caught sight of Burton and Sondra, who smiled and waved at her and gave her a chance to meet the interstellar glitterati and shake hands—or appendages—with the invited well-wishers. Among them she spotted a number of avian Kryagians; violet-skinned Krayolites; hairless, green-skinned Sudolians; and a variety of other species friendly to Earth, Lacerta, and their allies.

  Brianne had the unmistakable feeling of being surrounded by wealth, privilege, and celebrity status, befitting the station of her hosts. She was without question in the company of the cream of interstellar society, beings whom in her capacity as a traveling scientist studying interplanetary wildlife she would not ordinarily have occasion to meet. She smiled cordially at them and shook whatever hand or extremity they offered her, or accepted whatever other greeting was the custom of their respective species, knowing that in all likelihood she would never see most of these people, or beings, again.

  At one end of the ballroom, a band was playing. Most were human, but a couple, from their manner of dress, were obviously Lacertan. The Quists had hired a pianist, a couple of saxophonists, a couple of guitarists, a harpist, and several people on violins, cellos, and bass. And they were good, mixing in familiar terrestrial jazz with genres from a variety of other planets.

  After running a gauntlet of greetings and small talk, Brianne let the twins take her over to listen to the band. She watched the players, she watched the twins, and she wondered if they would ask her to dance. To be sure, for the occasion, it would not be too much of a breach of their professional boundaries just to share a dance…

  The musicians ended their number and stepped away for a break between sets, leaving the guests to mingle and talk without melodies playing under them. Brianne took the opportunity to ask Conran, “What about your parents? Will I get to meet them tonight?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” replied Conran. “They’d wanted to be here to meet you, but they send their regrets.”

  “I’m afraid our little soiree fell at the same time as their annual trip to the Proxima Zarriah Nebula,” Donar explained further. “Ever been there?”

  “No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” Brianne said. “Is it nice?”

  “Nice enough,” said Donar. “If you like being in a cloud of ionized gas full of satellites and space stations with nothing but rich people aboard them.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” said Brianne. “I never really go to places like that.”

  “Trust me,” said Donar, “our parents are the only things you’re missing about that place.”

  “Stop it, Donar,” Conran chided. “You liked it well enough when we were kids.”

  “I liked it well enough when we could go there without being chased around by every spoiled rich human girl this side of Lambda Librae.”

  “If you’ll remember,” said Conran pointedly, “it wasn’t always them doing the chasing.”

  “A bored teenage dragon surrounded by stuffy rich people has to do something,” argued Donar. And to Brianne, he added, “Not that I don’t enjoy the life we have. I’m just not always that impressed with some of the other people in it.”

  “The ones that aren’t young, attractive, and female, that is,” Brianne teased.

  “Ha!” Conran almost crowed in reaction. “That’s getting him.”

  With a mock frown at his brother, Donar explained, “Well, when we were old enough that we didn’t have to go wherever our parents went, we were happy to leave Proxima Zarriah to them. And they’re welcome to it.”

  “But what about the daughters of all those rich people?” Brianne teased further.

  “They have plenty of other rich young weredragons to chase,” said Donar.

  “And plenty to chase and catch them,” Conran admitted.

  With a sip of her wine, Brianne laughed softly at them. “You two… You must have caught as many as you had chasing you.”

  Donar almost replied, and threw them all back. But he caught himself and refrained from casting a look at his brother to see that Conran was thinking the same thing. But neither of them was about to admit it in front of Brianne. Instead, Donar simply replied, “Like I said before, we’re dragons of honor.”

  “That we are,” Conran agreed.

  “Speaking of dragons of honor,” said Brianne, casting her eyes around the room, “are any of the Knights coming this evening?”

  “We invited some of the Mentors,” replied Conran. “They’ll be showing up before long.”

  “It may seem a bit shallow,” said Brianne, “but there were certain ones I was actually hoping I’d get a chance to meet after hearing so much about them. Sir Hagen Maxon…Sir Thrax Helmer…maybe even Sir Rawn Ullery. I guess it’s a little presumptuous of me to think you must know them…”

  “Actually,” Conran said, “we happen to know all of them. Or at least, we’ve met all of them. We met Sir Rawn at the homecoming ball that was given for him at the Ruling Aerie in Silverwing.”

  Brianne blinked, remembering the media accounts of that night. “You mean the party that Joanna Way was abducted from, and taken to the spaceship where that Dr. Sabian held her hostage?”

  “Yes,” replied Conran. “That party.”

  Shutting her eyes for a second, Brianne said, “Can you just imagine? All that evil from all those years ago, catching up with Sir Rawn on that night of all times—and Joanna being in such danger from it…”

  “Well, we should all hope that’s the last of that particular evil anyone sees,” said Donar. “Everyone had enough of the Chimerians back in the big war with them.”

  “I’ll say,” Brianne agreed, remembering her history. “So…you did invite Sir Rawn and Joanna Way? And Sir Thrax and Agena Morrow?”

  “We did invite them,” Conran confirmed.

  Brianne’s eyes widened with interest. “Did they RSVP? Are they coming?”

  Donar grinned sheepishly. “Weeelll… if we’re really honest, Sir Thrax’s RSVP was a decline. He explained that he and Agena Morrow are…otherwise occupied th
is evening.”

  Brianne grinned over her wine glass, “I can just imagine with what.”

  “And I’m sure you’d be right,” Conran said.

  For a moment, an image passed through Brianne’s mind. She saw the dark and magnificent Sir Thrax Helmer naked in bed with the athletic, auburn-haired human Agena Morrow. She pictured him lowering his wondrously handsome face between Agena’s thighs to taste of her and bringing down his awesome body on top of her to slip the erect instrument of his dragon passion into what he’d tasted.

  She saw Agena as the ecstatic recipient of his dragon desire, crying out in an all-too-human ecstasy… In the name of common courtesy, she pulled herself out of that image. It was not a place she wanted to go, after all, in the company of her hosts and surrounded by all these other people.

  “Sir Rawn and Joanna RSVPed likewise, so we can assume they’re occupied the same way,” Conran added. “Unless they happen to be on duty, no one sees very much of Sir Rawn or Sir Thrax lately.”