Thrax

In an outpatient procedure room right now, Thrax was probably lying comfortably on a table while a physician monitored the progress of medical nanosurgeons who  busied themselves in his vas deferens, dissolving the artificial blocks that were placed there years ago to sterilize him.  As a Knight, Thrax had sworn an oath that he would not marry and would not have children; for the ties of marriage and children would divide his responsibilities, and the Knighthood was considered a calling that demanded complete and undivided devotion and precluded a mate and a family. 

And yet, like human civilization in this day and age, Lacertan society, including the Knighthood, considered celibacy unnatural and unhealthy.  The Knights were permitted s*x partners and lovers, so long as their duty took priority over the relationship.  Anyone who involved himself or herself romantically with a Knight was given to expect this in no uncertain terms.

 It was why Knights were not considered the ideal spouses, regardless of their oath.  One could sleep with a Knight.  One could love a Knight.  But one could not wed a Knight—except under circumstances such as Agena and Thrax now faced.  When a Knight was selected for Courtship, everything changed.

She had taken the glass of water with a complimentary dose of inhibitor that the polyclinic offered to all visitors.  People visiting Lacerta or expatriates from other planets routinely used mutagen inhibitors, either in liquid form or through transdermal patches.  In this manner, they could drink or bathe in the water and not be at risk of taking on weredragon traits.  The largest concentrations of Draconite were in lakes like Shimmershine, and swimming in such a body of water would practically ensure a full mutation, which was why those waters were restricted to Lacertans only.

  But all Lacertan water contained trace amounts of Draconite, and any pure human who drank or bathed in them could acquire some degree of dragon-shifting characteristics.  This made the inhibitors a necessity.  In Agena’s mating with Thrax, assuming it was successful, the weredragon traits would pass from the father, making the baby a Lacertan. 

Sometimes, people who visited or relocated to Lacerta deliberately chose to become dragon shifters, but that was a long process involving applications and careful physical and psychological screening, which, if successful, was then followed by a period of training and acclimation. 

 Lacerta did not permit just anyone visiting or moving to their planet to change species and become one of them.  They were very vigilant about making sure that applicants understood what it meant to have two bodies, one reptilian, and were prepared to spend the rest of their lives that way in both physical and mental health. 

 Agena had never met anyone who had voluntarily become a weredragon.  She was curious about such people, as she was perfectly happy being only a human.  Perhaps in her time on Lacerta, she would have the chance to meet someone who had “gone native” and find out about them.  For now, her principal  concern was her relationship with Thrax.

At the sound of her voice being called — “Agena?” –she blinked and spun her seat around, and there he was, tall and dark and exuding pure s*x.  She almost could not stand up at the sight of him, though she hoped something of his would soon be standing up for her.

In that same courtly manner, Thrax helped her from her seat.  “How did it go?” she asked.

“As perfectly as expected,” replied Thrax.  “I’m now ready.”  He paused for a second to let both meanings of that statement sink in.  “Shall we go?”

“Yes,” she said.  “I’ll just dispose of this,” she held up the mostly finished glass of water, “and we’ll go.”

Together, they made for the recycling port of the waiting area, and from there, back to the Chateau—and their purpose.

*****

Agena sat at the table on her side of their suite and let him pour them a couple of glasses of Proxima champagne from the vintners of the very first colony that Earth had settled outside of the home Solar System.  She took one and he the other, and they toasted the beginning of…what?  Their adventure?  Her future or his?  Privately, Agena and Thrax each admitted that they were not exactly sure.  They clinked their glasses in silence.

After the first taste of the wine, they began.

“Tell me, then,” he said, sitting across the table from her, “what is it that brings you here to Lacerta to find a mate to father your children?  And what made you want to be the mother of children of our kind?”

The smile that possessed Agena’s face was a polite but somewhat flustered one.  She felt as if she were being questioned by the media after losing a game, or worse, interviewed for a job.  “Well,” she answered, “my child will be a part of me as well as the father.  That is, it will belong to both of us, won’t it?”

“True, it will,” said Thrax.  “But you are a woman of quality, achievement, and beauty, aren’t you?  With all of the excellent, eligible human men in so many planets, why a Lacertan male?”

“If you don’t mind me pointing it out, you’re not just any Lacertan male, Thrax.”

“But the question remains.  You have so many choices available to you…”

She cut him off as politely as she could.  “But I know what I want.” 

“And you see the things that you want in me?”

With another sip of wine to dull, at least slightly, the anxiousness she was now feeling, Agena said, “Frankly, yes.  Yes, I do.”

“And what things are those?”

Now, Agena felt as if there were an electric current of tension running back and forth across the table.  She had no intention of being anything less than honest, but she would have to make it a very careful and measured honesty.  “Thrax,” she said, “I think men like you are…well, to be honest, the best the galaxy has to offer.  I don’t say that just to flatter you or fawn over you; that’s not my style.  I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.  I think men like you are…special.  Exceptional.  Excellent.”