When Siche Four walked into her office and discovered a bottle of fine, imported wine sitting on her desk, she at first thought that the strange little man from the Vella Crean--Shy--was trying to convince her she liked him again. She almost swept it immediately into the trash, for even with the help of the godsend that was her assistant Jigsaw, it had been another long day in the series of long days that was her life, and she wasn't in the mood to put up with another one of Shy's attempts to charm her.
When she picked up the bottle, though, she noted it was an ancient vintage of Charellian Red, and had to pause in surprise. Charellian Red was one of her favourites when she allowed herself to indulge in a strong (as in knock-your-teeth-out) drink, and she couldn't imagine it had been sheer coincidence that Shy would have picked this specific wine out of the many available in Star City's many markets. As she held the bottle up, she discovered it had been used as a paperweight. An old-fashioned paper envelope lay on her desk. How quaint was that?
The Minister picked it up with a bit of a scowl and held it over her paper-shredder, determined not to read any more of Shy's nonsense, when she realized the handwriting on the front was not Shy's--and she knew exactly whose it was.
Siche opened the envelope with the edge of a claw, frowning at the folded piece of paper she pulled out of it. Unfolding the paper revealed pale blue stationary she hadn't seen in years, scrolled along the left edge with twisting strands of DNA.
"Well, well, well, look who's back," she murmured to herself, sinking into her chair to read the note.
Siche leapt to her feet with a yowl. "WHAT MESS?!"
Five minutes later she stood in the open entrance of Bay Five, a human-formed Jigsaw in tow, glaring at the scene that met her there. It was not, as she had initially feared, another clutch of those awful xenodragons. In fact, it looked like a very normal clutch, aside from the fact it was clustered in the loops of resin left from the last xenodragon hatching--but wait, no, the eggs were actually lying in a clear patch, where the xeno-resin had been cleared away and the mossy turf underneath could be seen again. Siche couldn't tell how many there were, but they were creamy-colored and somewhat tubular, like snake eggs--if snake eggs were four or five feet long! All of them were also mottled with browns and greys, some more heavily than others.
The dragon curled loosely around them was, if Siche remembered her breeds correctly, a Fantasan Wraith dragon, also called a Dysiniu. From what Siche recalled, however, Dysiniu were all black and sometimes marked with white. This one was of a bizarre coloration in blues, oranges, and greens!
The dragon had to be fifteen feet tall and at least twice that in length, but Siche fearlessly began to stalk towards the creature. "What is Schroeder up to now?" she demanded, as Jigsaw hurried after her.
"Nothing even half as troublesome as xenodragons and their ilk," the Dysiniu responded in a pleasant baritone. "Good afternoon, Minister Siche. I am Sahurru. I trust the doctor's gift arrived with his note, as well?"
"If the 'good' doctor thinks he can bribe his way to keeping these eggs in my Bay," Siche growled, halting at the dragon's feet and glaring up at him, "he's sorely mistaken."
"I can assure you, mademoiselle," the Dysiniu rumbled, his wraith-gold eyes twinkling, "that the doctor is not trying to bribe you. A gift is a gift. However, now that he has returned to Star City for good--he congratulates you and the other Ministers on the fine new order you've established here, by the way--he is prepared and willing to offer all his services to the station once more, if you'll but only humor him this once."
Siche crossed her arms, her tail lashing so agitatedly her multitude of piercings there jangled together. "That still sounds like a bribe."
Sahurru put on a hurt look. "Mademoiselle, you wound us. He would like to think of it as an exchange of services. After this, he will not have to trouble you for one of your Bays again. His ship, the Abstract Destiny, has converted its two hangars into Bays rather like these, which he will be able to use in the future."
"And why isn't he using one of those now?" Siche demanded.
"Publicity, Minister Four," answered the dragon. "His bays are no good to him without bonders to fill them, but he's not about to let the populace of your fine city go gallivanting about his ship like tourists, either. But here, with your public hatchings, he can showcase his work, if you will. If your Ministry would allow him this, and help him advertise in the future, he will happily pledge his services to you. Indefinitely."
Siche was silent, her frown deepening with each moment she let pass in heavy thought. At last she sighed and threw up her hands.
"Fine!" she exclaimed. "I'll get him his candidates. But mark. My. Words." She jabbed a finger at Sahurru's multicolor chest. "If those eggs hatch into monsters, I'll have every last one of them tossed out an airlock! How many are there?"
"Currently, fifteen, but don't limit yourself to numbers. More can be brought in, extras can be taken away, and none will hatch without a bond present, so those sponsor-folks that we hear plague you can keep their distance."
Siche snorted, though at her side, Jigsaw didn't bother to hide a grin.
"And we promise," Sahurru continued, "that these children will not be monsters. Monstrous, perhaps, but golden hearted. The doctor, you see, wants to start counter-balancing all these nasty types we hear are taking over the worlds: those xenodragons and hydras and whatnot."
The Minister tilted her head, finally letting a sliver of interest into her expression. "Is that so? Well then, how long until they hatch? If you're leaving me with something like a week to gather candidates for you..."
"Oh, no," Sahurru chuckled. "Though the children could hatch this instant if I asked them to, they are prepared to wait. There is no rush, and I shall give you ample warning ahead of time. There will be no surprises. Or, no more of them," Sahurru winked.
"There had better not be," Siche muttered.