Incubation: Taylor Neeran Chronicles #6

By J J Mathews

A.D. 3596

Descendants of those who fled our galaxy during the great Xathen Civil War have returned, bearing the Message of the Grand Designer.

All who receive His Message will believe, and all will become One.

Or, more likely, dead.

Strathow, a colony world inhabited by Xathen religious Ascetics, has been decimated.

A rescue ship disappears after the crew are slaughtered by the survivors they had come to save.

The galaxy as we know it is in grave peril, but few believe that the Returning Xathen represent a serious threat towards the Xathen of this galaxy.

Instead, the Xathen Galactic Committee is preparing to welcome the Returning Xathen with open arms, despite Taylor's warning.

Because Xathen are Xathen under the eyes of the Grand Designer, after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J J Mathews
• Release date: Oct 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9780995136489

J J Mathews

James Jacob (J J) Mathews grew up with his nose stuck in books. A voracious reader in his youth, he devoured all of the science fiction and fantasy books he could find at the local library. J.R.R. Tolkein, Isaac Asimov, Ben Bova, Larry Niven, Voltaire and Greg Bear were some of his early influences, with many other authors added to his bookshelf as time went on. Broadening out to read more genres as an adult, J J has always held a special place for fantasy and sci-fi.J J is married and lives in Hamilton, New Zealand with his wife and three boys, and writes in his spare time.

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A.D. 3596

"I must say, I am very disappointed," said Stralmet Halfix. She tapped the filterglass with a slender fingertip, then raised a delicate but accusing eyebrow at Freth.

Protocols. Freth swallowed nervously as he eyed the extremely attractive Xathen on the other side of the glass. Three others stood a half-step behind her, waiting in silence — all male, and each equally attractive as Stralmet.

This is not the type of first-contact reception I was expecting from our long-lost brethren. Stralmet shook her head. Most discourteous.

Freth pulled his eyes back from tracing the outline of her perfect form and forced himself to look into her eyes. Sorry.

Sorry for what? Stralmet raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Sorry for looking me up and down like your next meal, or for imprisoning us on this side of the glass?

You’re not imprisoned.

Stralmet glanced over her shoulder. It would appear that we are. The door to access our ship has been sealed.

A temporary glitch. Freth licked sweat from his upper lip.

"Temporary," Stralmet frowned. The three Xathen behind her stepped forward. Mere centimetres of filterglass separated Freth and Hamnit from their guests.

Freth felt an almost physical pain at Stralmet’s visible displeasure. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Yes, we’re working on it.

I see, said Stralmet, casually walking over to the table that was firmly anchored to the floor. She took a seat on the long bench, also seamlessly connected to the floor. She raised an eyebrow at Freth. "I had hoped for a far more personal introduction at our first meeting, but we will suffer this indignity for now, while your ship’s doors are being fixed."

My apologies, nodded Freth, then took a seat at the table facing her on his side of the filterglass. Unlike the benches on the other side, however, Freth’s seat moved to accommodate him, then drew him in close to the table. Hamnit took a seat beside him. The three Xathen accompanying Stralmet stood at ease, their backs pressed against the wall behind Stralmet, their once-beautiful faces achingly tarnished as they glowered at Freth.

Stralmet wiped a finger along the top of the spotless table and inspected her fingertip. Your apology rings false. Do you meet all new guests in this way? If so, the Xathen Dominion has deteriorated significantly in their level of trust towards each other.

This is … new, Freth stammered.

Well, Stralmet forced a thin smile, Then let us begin anew. We are humble servants of the Grand Designer, and we come in peace bearing His Message. We are happy to share His Blessing with you, despite this unexpected reception.

That’s good to know, Freth nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. What, exactly, is His Message?

Stralmet smiled broadly, making Freth’s heart ache. Remove the barrier.

No, Freth shook his head, his neck muscles tense.

Why not? Stralmet raised a delicate eyebrow.

Because of this, Freth sighed, then pressed a recessed button on the tabletop.

As one, Stralmet and her companions screamed and rushed at the filterglass, eyes dilated, their hands formed into claws as they attacked the smooth surface.

Freth wrinkled his nose at the sudden tangy odour, sour and sharp, then pressed the button again, returning the filterglass to its most non-permeable setting.

Stralmet stepped back from the glass, her hands still formed into bloodied claws. She blinked, then her face twisted into a snarl. She waved an accusing finger at Freth, splattering blood on the filterglass as the other three Xathen looked around in confusion. What did you do? You attacked us!

No, I didn’t, Freth sighed as he pressed another button. In a fraction of a second, the entire room enclosing Stralmet and her three companions silvered over as an embedded stasis cube activated. "But now, you are imprisoned."

Hamnit turned towards Freth. I thought we weren’t supposed to capture any of them. The Committee won’t be pleased.

Freth shrugged. I’m just following my employer’s instructions. Kayleth can deal with the fallout when we get back.

Hamnit stared at the silver surface, reflecting her hairless green Illiyan form. You know, I didn’t actually believe that they’d be infected.

Freth shook his head. I didn’t either, but sadly, now we’ve confirmed it. And this changes everything.

Lab Rat

They’re concerned about you, Karr nodded at the filterglass separating the lab from the observation room.

Well, I did have a seizure, Taylor rubbed her sore neck. But I’ll be fine, really.

Karr shook his head. They aren’t as certain as you seem to be. They want to connect our rooms.

Why?

Karr nodded at the filterglass separating them from the lab workspace. "So that if you have any other incidents, they won’t have to rush me through the airlocks to help you. They don’t want me to stay in here, but a door between rooms would be quicker than what they did last time if I needed to help."

They could just come in here themselves.

Karr shrugged. "But they didn’t, did they? They risked me attacking them when they escorted me to your airlock in a suit, rather than them risk getting attacked or infected by you."

Taylor’s eyes narrowed. Hmmm. But you didn’t attack them.

Karr shook his head. Of course not. I may resent being held here, but that’s no reason to be uncivilised.

When you’re in an isolation suit on so you couldn’t smell them, you mean. You’re the big, scary alien.

Karr sighed. That attacks people with Picogens, yes. And you are affected also.

Taylor threw off the blankets and carefully sat up, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. They could just do the same thing next time, if there is a next time.

It could be too slow, and having me outside my room in an emergency is a risk. They said that quite clearly.

I’ve been through worse and lived, Taylor forced a smile. I’ll be just fine.

— They think you won’t, Karr shook his head. — You scared them quite badly.

— Out loud, please.

— Don’t you trust me?

I said… Taylor sighed. — The truth is, I hardly know you.

— I’m here now. You slept safely enough. You could have a door that they can open remotely, or open and close it from your side. It doesn’t bother me. I want you to feel safe.

— Why? Taylor’s eyebrows raised.

— You know why.

— Because I’ve been Touched? Taylor gave him a thin smile.

Yes, in part, Karr raised an eyebrow. But I like you.

I’m your captor, Taylor shook her head.

— Not anymore. You’re in here with me, and you’ve received His Blessing.

They’re doing it again, Farnor called out.

Declaration of War

Committee

Where is my mother? Margaret snapped at her assistant. "Get her on, now."

Her slender Xathen assistant shook his head. I’m afraid it’s not possible.

I am First of Ones, Sflek, and for a change I’m exercising that privilege. Make it happen.

Sflek shrank back from her ire. "Apologies, First of Ones, but the limitation is not procedural, it is physical. Her Picogens have been expunged following infection, and no holo-emitters were installed in the secure lab facility. Furthermore, she is apparently still recovering from her … episode. It may not be wise to add stress to her at this time."

Fine, sighed Margaret. Keep me advised of her progress, and in the meantime, please arrange to have a holo-emitter installed in her lab. We may need her advice, now that we are at war.

"The Xathen Dominion cannot be at war, Neelak’s rose from his seat, his face flushed. You are out of order and are abusing your power, Margaret Neeran."

Margaret blinked. I am First of Ones, Neelak.

Neelak pointed a shaking finger at her. You are not above the Law!

The Dominion has been attacked.

Show me these supposed attackers.

Margaret pointed towards the centre of the table. "You saw what happened on Strathow! It was a bloodbath. No, it was genocide."

Neelak crossed his arms over his chest, the armpits of his crisp white shirt damp with sweat. "You see only symptoms. There are no accused to stand before us and defend themselves. Xathen law is very clear. One is innocent until proven guilty, and root-cause must be followed. None of this is present here, not a shred!"

Margaret faltered. But the survivors acted exactly like—

Like what? Neelak challenged, leaning forward, the knuckles of his six-digit hands pushing down on the table. "Like animals? Like the animals we saw eating the bodies of their families? The only evidence we have is that of an as-yet unexplained natural phenomenon. Every world the Xathen settled over billions of years had some kind of self-defence mechanism, bred into the indigenous species. Whether micro-or-macroscopic, threats were encountered, and then tamed in each place the Xathen settled and called home. Perhaps the Ascetics on Strathow finally triggered something in the biosphere, at the macroscopic level. You know as well as I do how backwards that sect is, abhorring technology in almost all of its forms. It was bound to happen someday. It’s called evolution."

Margaret gaped. But the strange impressions in the ground…

Neelak shook his head. Scratchings in the dirt! Who knows what could have caused them?

Margaret composed herself, standing up straighter. The other Xathen ships.

Show them to us, please.

I can’t. But the Maramosa—

Show me she has an infected crew.

We don’t know where she is.

So, Neelak spread his hands flat on the table. You would accuse without evidence, and not only that, call for our long-lost brethren, should that turn out to be who they are, to be attacked without provocation?

"Strathow should be considered provocation enough. A quarter of a million Xathen—"

Voters.

Margaret gaped. "What?"

"A quarter of a million voters, lost. And in my electoral sector, too. I wonder if you had considered that fact. If anyone should be concerned about that loss, it should be me, am I correct? Are you trying to undermine my electoral base by declaring war, Madame Chair? A war which might last many lifetimes, like the Civil War, oh-so-long ago? A war which could keep you in that chair until you Ascend?"

Margaret stilled. Her voice was chilly when she spoke. Tread carefully, Neelak. I seek to protect the Xathen Dominion. This is not about politics.

Neelak took a deep breath, then forced another smile. "Life is politics, Madame Chair. However, myself and the rest of the Committee hold the oath of office to serve and protect the Dominion, as do you. Although, in your case, you might feel more entitled to the position. Was your oath perhaps merely lip-service, my dear Margaret? Or, dare I say, Empress?"

Margaret’s face flushed. She glared at him in silence for several long seconds before composing herself. "I will serve and protect the democratic Xathen Dominion. Against all foes."

Splendid! Neelak clapped his hands together.

"… both known and un-known. Margaret fixed him with a steely stare. That which you do not know can still kill you. You run from a Vaseth and climb the nearest tree; you don’t ask it for its zoological classification first."

Of course, smiled Neelak. "Your upbringing was primitive, and that is, perhaps, finally showing through the thin veneer of a civilised façade. You, of course, would attack first, not knowing the nature of our enemy — or even if there is one in the first place."

I’m warning you, Neelak, Margaret scowled.

Thank you.

Margaret blinked. What?

Neelak settled himself back into his chair. Thank you for the warning. I dare say it’s more than your imagined enemy would receive, I’m sure.

We have evidence, Margaret hissed. The creature — Karr, he calls himself. The missing communication satellites on the far rim. Kayleth’s own testimony of what she saw.

Hearsay, Neelak waved a hand. And from an untrustworthy source. I don’t know what disease or condition may have affected our poor guest, but if he does indeed herald from another galaxy, perhaps he just needs time to adjust.

Adjust to what?

Neelak traced a finger across the table, shaking his head. "Tsk, tsk. Considering the studies of your mother, I would have expected more from her offspring. But then, every Xathen child learns basic genetics and biology when they are very young. Perhaps you missed out while you were off playing in trees."

Margaret gripped the edge of the table. What are you saying?

Germs. Bugs. Viruses and bacteria endemic to each world. Picogens take care of that for all of us, of course, protecting us in a way similar to, but more sophisticated than, the ubiquitous Nanos the Commonwealth developed. Our guest has neither.

Margaret frowned. You’re saying he may be reacting to something here?

The environment, yes, Neelak nodded. "The microscopic world is quite hostile. It is entirely possible that all of this can be explained by their adverse reaction to the micro-biotic citizenry of at least several of our worlds, or what Kayleth brought with her unwittingly on her ship."

And that could trigger violent episodes? Margaret said slowly.

Of course, Neelak smiled. Diseases used to be quite common amongst the Experimental worlds until they developed the Nanos. I believe that one such disease from your mother’s home world was once called Rabies, but there were many others that caused temporary and unpredictable violence, easily triggered.

Margaret looked at the solemn faces around the table. Even Strayer and Bayeth seemed to be considering the idea.

You might be right, Margaret sighed.

Neelak put a hand to his right ear. Excuse me, I didn’t quite hear that. Do you mind repeating it for the record?

Margaret took a deep breath. "I said, you might be right. There could be other explanations for the massacre."

And for our guest’s behaviour.

What about my mother? asked Margaret, lowering herself back into her seat. She reacted the same way.

Neelak waved a hand dismissively. "Infected by something, of course. Perhaps by an imported immune response to our own hostile environments, or an allergic reaction of sorts. More research will be required, but I expect that soon enough, it shouldn’t be a problem."

Margaret put her head in her hands. I feel like such a fool.

We all make mistakes, Neelak smiled. "Just don’t make any more that could compromise you in the eyes of the people. We wouldn’t want that, would we? One has an image to uphold, First of Ones. That’s just a friendly warning."

Margaret lifted her head and stared into Neelak’s steely gaze that belied the friendly smile on his lips. The smile that was completely out of character. His eyes, though, couldn’t hide his lingering contempt.

She blinked. Your point is made.

Neelak looked around the table. Now, I believe that our esteemed Chair was about to say something…? he turned to look at her.

Margaret swallowed. "Ah … esteemed Committee members, I withdraw my prior statement. It would seem that it would be premature to declare war at this time. We need more information."

And an adversary, smiled Neelak, all teeth.

Investigation

We still need to know what happened on Strathow, said Margaret. We have a duty, to them and their families.

Of course, Neelak nodded.

Margaret turned towards Sarek. Has anyone else visited the planet?

Sarek shook his head. Travel has been curtailed, and they are seldom visited, so no. The planet has not been disturbed since the unfortunate event.

Good, Margaret nodded. I want a collection team sent there as soon as possible.

You won’t find much, Strayer gave her a concerned look. From all accounts, the inhabitants have been … consumed.

Margaret’s expression soured in distaste. We need to do what we can for them.

What would you do, esteemed Chair? Neelak raised an eyebrow.

Collect samples for study.

Howls of outrage swept around the table, but Margaret’s raised hand gradually reduced the noise to a low mutter.

I’m not suggesting that we desecrate anything, but tissue samples may be important to collect before they degrade too much. And we should try to collect a few samples of the wild creatures near some of the villages. That may tell us something about why the inhabitants were attacked.

What do you expect to find? asked Harrek.

Margaret shrugged. I don’t know. But we have to do something for those poor people.

They’re quite dead, said Craythur, and as such, likely uncaring what you do. Surviving family is a different matter, but are likely to be few, the colony having been long-established with scarcely any immigration or emigration. They’ve been quite isolated for an extended period.

That’s very sad, Margaret hung her head. Nevertheless, we need to know. We’ll need live samples of the carnivores, and some of the carrion-species as well.

I can’t imagine anyone who would volunteer for such an assignment, Wezzal shook his head. You may be putting them in grave danger.

Send them in self-contained heavy-grade armour, suggested Weezal.

You may be going too far, Margaret, said Banesh.

They’ll be stunned and put into stasis, said Margaret. It should be fairly safe.

Is the lab facility on three-seven-two equipped for such animals? asked Darfun.

Not yet, Margaret looked at Bayeth. But modifications can be made.

I presume you intend to keep them alive, at least for a while. We’d need to at least roughly simulate their natural environment, in terms of appropriate food supply at least, said Craythur.

Like a zoo? Bayeth’s face soured. This is getting out of hand, sister.

Margaret shrugged. We can work out the details later, but yes. In that case, it would be best to collect a wider range of flora and fauna. Plants, dirt, insects, other creatures of different sizes that might form part of the food chain.

Or you could just kill them and bring them here, Bayeth shook his head. It would be a lot simpler.

But we don’t know if we need some of them alive for behavioural testing, and for how long.

It would be better to build another facility, if that’s the case, but it will take some time. Who will fund it, though? Bayeth’s eyes swept around the table, but most of them looked away. Fine, I’ll arrange it, but it may take some time. The current venture has required me to tighten finances up more than expected.

Take all the time you need, Bayeth, Neelak smiled. The samples can be kept in stasis indefinitely. That should allow your financial reserves to recover sufficiently, unless other contributors step forwards. In the meantime, I agree that it makes sense to collect what you think you need before it spoils. But there’s no rush to complete the analysis. Those with the most vested interests in the results are dead.

Debrief

Well, that certainly went well, Margaret sighed. The committee members had all departed, save her brother, Bayeth and grandfather Strayer, who sat around the now-reduced virtual table.

You’ve been put in a difficult position, Strayer raised an eyebrow.

"I looked like an idiot," Margaret pinched the bridge of her nose.

Strathow was understandably upsetting, Strayer reached over and patted her hand. You wanted to do something.

"I was reacting, Margaret shook her head. Not thinking it through first, like a Chair should."

You never really had your heart in politics, Bayeth leaned back in his chair, his five-digit hands clasped behind his head. "You’ve been too soft, and that’s the problem. Always the conciliator, the peacemaker. When you suddenly take charge like that, they’re just not used to it. No wonder they pushed back."

It was just Neelak, and we all know what he’s like.

I was watching the others while you two had your little exchange, Bayeth suddenly leaned forward and pressed his palms flat on the table. There were many heads nodding when he spoke. Be very careful, he has more support than you know. And to commit us to engage in war, well—

War can be necessary, interrupted Strayer. "And you shouldn’t be so hard on your sister; she’s done well in her role. There’s nothing wrong with trying to seek mutually beneficial solutions, and it suits her nature. I can tell you that I am glad that First of Ones is so … reasonable. It could be worse."

You mean, if I was First of Ones instead of my sister? Bayeth’s voice rose.

Strayer coughed. I was thinking of Kayleth, actually. When she was First of Twos and there were no Ones, it was bad enough. But if someone like her was First of Ones, the Committee could be a very dangerous place to be.

The Xathen Dominion is a democracy first, said Margaret. I wholeheartedly believe in that.

But not all think that way, Strayer shook his head. Like it or not, Level still means power, and as you recently tried to demonstrate, First of Ones holds significant powers, but only under exceptional circumstances.

‘Which we didn’t have, Bayeth looked at Margaret. Neelak was right. We need more evidence of what happened at Strathow. Right now you’d be fighting thin air."

Or ghosts.

I don’t believe in them, Bayeth smiled. But I’m glad you understand the situation. Declaring war might be the right thing to do, but not just yet. We need to know more.

If war is truly necessary, Strayer raised an eyebrow.

You said it can be, Bayeth raised an eyebrow.

Yes, to defend the people, but not as a political ploy. War — even a simulated one like we held with the Commonwealth to test them, is an ugly business.

Were you there, grandfather? Bayeth challenged.

Strayer sighed. I played my part, as did many others. But I didn’t take part directly in the actual fighting, no.

What did you do, then? Bayeth leaned forwards, a little too eager to hear what his grandfather had to say.

Strayer closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, staring back at his grandson. I led the analytics team. But when it was all over, I’d had enough of it. The test was necessary, of course, but I was dismayed at the loss of intelligent life, both of the Xathen volunteers and those from the Experiment. That’s another reason I disappeared for a decade or so and hid out in the Commonwealth itself. I wanted to see how they would recover following the war.

And that’s where you met grandmother, nodded Margaret.

That I did, he smiled.

So you do know something of war, then, Bayeth smiled.

"Simulated war, Strayer shrugged. We only deployed tools of combat that paralleled the development of the experimental species."

It’s still war, though, Bayeth shook his head.

No! Strayer smacked his hand on the table. "We never meant to win; we didn’t need to win. We were playing with children, testing their limits, then we withdrew when the assessment was complete. It was nothing like a true war, and believe me, war is not something to look forward to."

We’ll find the evidence we need, grandfather, said Margaret. Someone has to pay for what happened at Strathow.

If it wasn’t a natural event, after all, Strayer sighed. In the meantime, watch your backs, both of you. I don’t trust Neelak farther than I could throw him, and he’s up to something.

Dark Places

You should have challenged her, said a hooded figure in the darkened room.

We would have supported you, whispered the second.

Now was not the time, Neelak shook his head under the thick grey hood that muffled his voice. "And it’s not just her. The entire dynasty must fall. Strayer must answer for the abominable act that twisted our honoured Committee to become the plaything of his spawn. His daughter — a hybrid, and yet now Fifth of Ones, while her eldest abominations are First and Second, to Strayer’s Fourth? They say it was natural, but I don’t believe any of it. How can a child have two genetic fathers, let alone that seed affecting both children of the same gestational cycle in the same way?"

The Xathen Galactic DNA Register says it is so, and the primitive conditions under which she lived and conceived dispelled all doubt at the time.

"So, it was a miracle, then?" Neelak sneered.

The Grand Designer works in mysterious—

Not you, too! Neelak snapped. I won’t have it.

Apologies, bowed the second. I merely meant to say that the galaxy has its mysteries, even after four billion years.

Mysteries can be solved, if you are persistent. And when that time comes…

The first coughed. Execution is no longer the expedient for unintentional genetic improvement of level.

No, Neelak pressed his fingertips together. "No, but if it can be proven as intentional, or interfered with, we may have that option. At the very least, Strayer and his brood must be discredited and cast from the Committee. But I’d settle for dead."

Kayleth would again be top rank, and automatically on the Committee.

If she is compliant, it will not be a problem.

She is well known to keep her own counsel.

She’s a politician and a strategist. She needs alliances. But should she refuse…

Your own rank is twenty-third of Ones, said the second. You could not fill the gap.

Sixth of Ones isn’t even on the Committee, nor has she shown any interest in politics. We would have the opportunity to train and mould the fresh blood as we see fit. We would become her trusted advisers, easing the pain and burden of duty.

In the meantime, we must be cautious, said the second.

Which is why I don’t understand why you supported Margaret near the end. hissed the first.

Did I? Neelak smiled in the darkness. Perhaps it seemed that way.

She will be suspicious, said the second.

That’s what I wanted.

Your behaviour was inconsistent, the first shook his head.

"I’m not worried about that. And you were all witness — she was about to drag the Dominion into the chaos of war — but against whom? Fear of an invisible enemy is far worse than the one facing you in the flesh. No, we couldn’t afford to let that happen now."

But what if she is right — what if Kayleth and Taylor are correct?

"What, that we’re being invaded? Neelak laughed and turned towards the first figure. Time will tell all. And when the time is right, I will act, with your support, and others. But for now, we have far less to fear from a handful of vagabonds than we do from our own people. Elections are coming up, and I don’t think we could survive the uncertainty and fear that a declaration of war could cause."

What about Strathow?

We will use it to our advantage, of course, Neelak smiled in the darkness. And soon, the Committee will be born anew.

New Beginnings

Bayeth

This is not the best time, Kasmet, Bayeth growled as he opened the front door of his single-story Commonwealth retro-style bungalow.

I think now is just fine, Kasmet smiled, her pointed white teeth flashing briefly. Her green-scaled body-form was scantily clothed, customary for a quasi-reptilian body-form on a warm planet like Praxis-four, with its double suns. She also wore a low-slung fabric bag over one shoulder that rested against her left hip.

Bayeth blocked the doorway, scowling. Something has come up.

Kasmet’s eyes flicked up and down his trim body, the vertical slits of her yellow irises narrowing. Well, you certainly haven’t. You’re normally much happier to see me.

Bayeth crossed his arms over his chest. Cut the crap, Kasmet. You’re pressuring me into a family contract, and you know it.

You know better than that, she shook her head. You’ve been a naughty boy, spreading your seed. DNA doesn’t lie.

Bayeth’s scowl deepened. You didn’t have to be pregnant.

"And yet I am, with your offspring," Kasmet stared at him until he sighed and stepped aside, finally allowing her to enter the house.

That’s better, she smiled, tracing a sharp, black, retractable claw under his chin. "This will be our family home, after all."

Bayeth followed her into the well-equipped kitchen, where she poured herself a drink of a dark amber fluid.

Hey, isn’t that bad for the baby? The babies?

Kasmet paused, the cool crystal of the glass touching her lips. In quantity, yes, it can be.

I don’t want them … I don’t know, deformed or anything. If we’re going to do this…

Kasmet set the glass down on the marbled black stone counter and smiled. You’ve thought about it, then?

Bayeth stepped forward and took the glass from her green-scaled fingers, downing the contents in a single gulp. I have. I’d been up most of the night thinking about it. I wasn’t in the best shape for the Committee meeting.

I’m surprised.

Bayeth walked over to the decanter and re-filled the glass. Surprised about what?

Kasmet took the glass from him, allowed herself a small sip, then set it behind her on the counter. I’m surprised that you’re showing interest — concern, even, for the well-being of your future children. And don’t think that getting yourself drunk will invalidate the contract we’re about to sign.

I wasn’t thinking that.

Of course not. That’s why the decanter’s half empty. You just re-filled it last night, after dinner.

Bayeth sighed. Look, I’m not a complete hossard’s ass.

As a hossard weighs several tonnes, that would be difficult.

You know what I mean.

You’ve got a long way to go, Bayeth, if you’re going to be a proper father.

Bayeth’s shoulders slumped. I’m just not ready.

You should have thought of that before you impregnated me.

"But your body-form can choose the time of conception … you told me that. You could have chosen not to—"

Kasmet reached out a hand, cupping Bayeth’s privates in a clawed grip. He winced.

"It was bound to happen with someone. You’ve been far too careless. You’re just lucky it was me. And now is the best time, because it is happening."

Bayeth glanced downwards, eyes questioning.

She released her grip and slid her bag around so the pouch rested on her right hip, then pulled a sleek black tablet out of her bag. She retracted the thick black claws on her right hand and flicked through several screens. Ah, yes, here it is. Did you want to read the contract first?

Bayeth snatched the tablet from her hand. Yes, I do.

Fine with me, said Kasmet, taking another small sip from the glass.

Bayeth walked over to the nearest sofa and sat down, skimming through the agreement that would legally bind the two of them into a family unit for at least the next twenty Xathen Standard years, possibly more.

Kasmet stood patiently, watching him as Bayeth flipped through the screens of dense script, his brow furrowing deeper with each page.

Finally, he looked up at her in confusion. I don’t get it.

Kasmet smiled and walked over towards him, carrying the glass in one hand. What don’t you get?

Bayeth glanced at the tablet, then looked up into her eyes. The contract isn’t biased.

Kasmet frowned. It’s a standard family contract, Bayeth. Equal terms for each party, and when the final offspring from our union reach the age of maturity, the contract expires, and we each leave with what we had going in, and an equal proportion of any assets gained during the contract. In the meantime, what’s mine is yours, and yours mine. It helps with family stability for the children, which is very important.

Bayeth shook his head. But why would you—

Kasmet smiled. I only want what’s fair, Bayeth. For both of us.

Bayeth nodded slowly. Okay. I’ll sign it.

Just place your palm on the screen.

Bayeth did as instructed, then handed her the tablet. She pressed a warm, scaly hand against the screen until it flashed green. Now, we’re officially a family unit.

Bayeth shivered. "I’m going to be a father."

To twins, Kasmet nodded. To start with.

But you— Bayeth’s eyes widened. How — how many children could we have again?

Kasmet took a small sip from the glass. "Assuming we never had sex again, which I think would be a shame, well … about ten thousand or so viable embryos could be created from your sperm that I have stored in that special gland I told you about last night. Though, of course, that’s not realistic. I’d like a big family, but not quite that big. At least six, maybe a dozen, but only one or two at a time, with a minimum of one or two years between birthing cycles, but not spread so far apart that it would create sibling distancing issues. We’ll want to enjoy their formative years properly, and