Random Fragments 07

Flights of Fancy

This bit of Toby’s story happens – if it happens at all – closer to the end of the second book.

***

For a change, Toby and Blue were sitting alone in a semi-private nook at Joe’s restaurant. They could have joined any number of other groups of diners, but Toby had waved off invitations with hints of having to discuss privileged client matters. Blue actually had some news of the theriomorphs, and that lead to a lively contest over which one of them had had the most unusual clients.

Toby reclined slightly against the rough stone wall, waiting quite peacefully to see whether Blue had a story of creatures stranger than the familially self-destructive clan that Toby had nicknamed the Borgiabeasts. The moment of silence lengthened, and Toby was just thinking that it amazed her how comfortable she felt in both quiet and conversation with Blue, when Blue sighed and spoke.

"I’ve heard of some insects that do worse, but only barely. You’re right, Toby. That has to be the least sensible way to live together... but here I am, laughing at your Borgiabeasts, and I don’t know what dragons do. I mean, I know your mother hasn’t been around much. Is that common? How do dragons mate?"

For a moment, Toby’s whiskers registered surprise, then she relaxed smiling, "We don’t really discuss this much with other people, but ... why not? Mate selection is complicated, but once the decision has been made, they fly together. I haven’t seen a dragon mating dance, but I’ve heard the stories. The first part is more of a contest than a dance ... usually on an uninhabited planet ... they have to make absolutely sure that they are a good match. They aren’t seeking to damage each other, but contests between dragons test speed, manoeuverability, and flame to the very limits of possibility.

"If they are not well suited to each other, the dance ends there. But that almost never happens. Once they’re sure, their dance changes so that they enhance each other rather than competing. They both dance their own family’s dances, and create a new dance that will be the dance of their line in the future.

"When the time is right, when that part of their dance is done, the strongest flyers amongst dragon-kind meet them in the air and carry them into space, allowing them to rest for a while. The mates will already have chosen their star, and they will direct the flyers onto the right approach. If the flyers were accurate, the mates need do little course correction on arrival, and all their effort goes to speed.

"This last part of their journey they do without observers or assistance. When and where they couple will depend on their star and any planets surrounding it. He gives her as much speed as he can, and fertilizes their egg, and then he falls back while she heads directly on to the star.

"Like humans, dragons have evolved to a point where giving birth is no longer as easy as it was for our distant ancestors. We compensate by using gravity as our obstetricians. The mother’s goal is to hit the perfect speed and trajectory so that she slingshots around the star while the star’s pull captures her egg in a close orbit. We are incubated by the star for hundreds of years before a family member, possibly one of our parents, but not necessarily, comes to wait for our hatching and bring us back to their nest.

"Mating is one of the hardest things most dragons ever attempt, many fail, and, assuming both dragons survive they would likely not mate again, and certainly not with each other. There are rumours that some dragons resort to magic or technology to make the process easier, but implying that a dragon was not star-born is almost certain to result in a death duel, so that’s only speculation. Since humans made their way into space, it has become an in-joke that we dragons are so intelligent because for us mating actually is rocket science.

"And there you have it, Blue. You’re now one of the few humans to know the whole story. There is risk involved, but I’d like to think we’re a lot more elegant than the Borgiabeasts."

"Of course you are, Toby. I’ve seen you fly, you’re beautiful... I mean, your flying is." Blue paused for a moment, "But, Toby, it doesn’t sound as though mates actually have much of relationship. Isn’t that ... lonely?"

"Our ancestors were never pack animals, so we don’t have the same drive for clumping that you humans do. Besides, it takes a clan to raise a nestling, so we don’t confuse friendship, love or even family with clan business."

"So... two dragons could be in love, and one might mate with someone else?"

"Mating is about making sure our lines don’t die out; about improving our species. It’s not like sex or anything."

"Woah!" Blue paused, rubbing her temples in frustration, "I’m confused. Sex and mating isn’t the same?"

A small clue began jostling Toby’s synapses, "Sorry, Blue. I thought you understood. Mating is a business transaction, with a few artistic bits thrown in to keep the old folks happy. Sex is ... different."

"Different?"

"Definitely different. For one thing, dragons can have sex without requiring several decades of geneological scrutiny and physical and mental testing by two clans of demonically intense and extremely senior matchmakers. For another, well most dragons only mate once or twice in a lifetime..."

"Sex ... more often?"

"Definitely more often. A lot more choice of partners, numbers, genders..."

"Species?"

"You humans tell stories about knights rescuing princesses from dragons... In the stories dragons tell, the princesses hide their dragons, outwit – or vanquish – the knight on the way back to town, and return to the dragon’s tower to live happily ever after."

Blue smiled, "I could learn to like the story, the way dragons tell it."

Toby bowed, shyly, "Perhaps milady would care to accompany me to a quieter location to watch the sun rise?"

"Silly Toby, it’s barely dark out."

"I have wings... and the sun is always rising somewhere."