makeup than anything that went on between the two of us.
I bring my com to my lips and call Borak back over when I see some fairly continuous movement with the eggs. He’s at my side within seconds, eager not to miss anything. His firstborn sons begin passing around a particular type of strong ale they reserve for these kinds of celebrations. Everyone gathers around and the room quiets a bit.
There is a crack in one egg, and it explodes from around a hefty little Draconian baby. He literally comes striding across the little habitat and right up to the second egg. I’m stunned when he puts his ear up to and listens. Now, I knew Draconian young were active from the first moments they were born, but I never expected anything like this. He’s actually thinking clearly and apparently concerned about his brother.
For the first time my stomach is sick. Kryos wanted to scan the eggs when he was here, but Borak refused. He’s convinced that one reason his line is bigger and stronger is that the eggs aren’t handled or bombarded with scanning rays. We assumed they were healthy because they were both growing rapidly and the shell showed no signed of disease. Now, I’m beginning to worry that maybe we should have checked them out.
The first spawn steps back a couple of steps but leans forward like he’s going to pounce on the second one the moment he comes out of the shell. I glance back at Borak, who is held in thrall by the spectacle before us. “Should we take him out now?”
Borak’s eyes jump to me and he flutters his wings. “Leave him be. Spawn mates are attuned to each other.”
We don’t have to wait long, because the other shell cracks and a bit gets punched out by a tiny fist. The first little spawn immediately moves forward and begins ripping the shell from around the second spawn. The room goes absolutely wild because that is some kind of taboo. They’re saying the little one must prove himself worthy by breaking from the shell under his own power.
The minute the last piece of shell is pulled away, I know what the problem is. There are two spawn curled around each other in the same shell, both so big they probably couldn’t maneuver around enough to get out. I tilt my head sideways as the entire room goes deathly silent. It’s like we’re all noticing the same thing at once. One of the twins looks different. In fact, he looks more like a she. The wings are shorter and more delicate, and her coloring is purple and black instead of green and black.
I hear the term queen maker being whispered all around us. I’ve read that this is happening more and more often, regular warriors spawning queens. They used to think that only a specific subtype of Draconian males spawned queens, because they had the ability to absorb some of the woman’s DNA during the pheromone saturation. Moving forward to peer into the habitat, I decide that they are probably all capable of doing it. Maybe humans have more potent pheromones or something, and that explains why girls are getting to be plentiful.
I watch as she trembles a little like she’s cold. Both of the boys back up on either side of her and lock their wings together around her. They’re jabbering something the translator can’t process that almost seems like a back and forth conversation. Thank God we’ve decided to lock all the Sonarians outside for the evening. If they started a conversation about how many bites it would take them to eat our little ones, I think that I’d become murder happy.
The room bursts into conversation, and when I turn to Borak, I see his eyes blinking rapidly. I know the Draconians don’t have tear ducts, so this must be what becoming emotional looks like. I slide my arms around him. “Don’t freak out. Three is fine. I know that I said two was the prefect number, but that was before I saw how perfect they are.”
His gaze lifts to mine. “We have a little queen of our own, one that will never know the horror of a Vithacan parasite.”
I nod my agreement. “In large part because of our effort to ensure they didn’t get a foothold in this sector of space. This is what good karma looks like. We fought the good fight with a pure heart and now we enjoy the fruits