Though Lirdunglu graciously offered them free board on the Abstract Destiny, once Begug wrote back that they would be coming to stay for a while, Begug decided that if they were making a vacation of it-- which they were, to Yadtime's delight-- they were going to actually relax. Free room and board was one thing, but those little rooms aboard Yadtime's father's ship of employment were very small, and not particularly comfortable. They knew because they'd spent the night there once, two months ago, in a visit to celebrate his sister Joyagi's accidental but welcome bonding. Yadtime had not been looking forward to having to cram himself into one of the guest cabins, particularly not if he had to share with his uncle, and so made no protest to splurging on staying somewhere else.

So, Begug took the money he'd been earning as a policeman and booked them a comfortable hotel room, made dragon-sized so neither would have to go around shifted if they didn't want to. Yadtime was glad of that: being shifting took a lot of energy and concentration, and just being himself was both easier and more comfortable. His uncle's fascination with shape-shifting and disguise had not transferred to him, not after he started learning how to do it and discovered how little he really cared for being someone other than himself. That fact that he simply wasn't as good at it as Begug didn't help matters any.

Lirdunglu met them when they arrived, again to Yadtime's surprised pleasure, and accompanied them to their hotel for check-in before they followed him "home" to the ship. One trip hadn't been enough to make him familiar enough with it to feel at home, and he looked around with as much wide-eyed, quiet-touristy enthusiasm as he had the first time they'd been there. Though his school had plenty of technological wonders, it was nearly always combined heavily with magic: the Abstract Destiny was less magitech and more true tech, and Yadtime felt like there was something new to look at everywhere he looked.

As guests, they weren't allowed into the deeper recesses of the ship, but luckily, everyone they wanted to see was on the recreation deck. Golden Joyagi sprang up from the little room off the main hall she'd been inhabiting as they passed, and threw herself cheerfully at Yadtime. Her giggling bond, Sibori, trailed more sedately after her. The undead dragon-mix-- she actually only had one parent of four who was actually a dragon-- was only two months out of the shell, and was still quite small. For all she looked vaguely frightening despite her diminutive stature, with her fleshless skull and wings and her fiery neck and forelegs, she was just as bright and joyful as Joyagi herself. It was Yadtime's opinion that no one looking past her appearance could possibly dislike her-- but then, he tended to think that of most people.

That meet-and-greet took a few minutes, and afterwards Joyagi attached herself and her bond to the little party, en route to the first third-October-sibling, who Lir' called Amicu Soloculi. "He's a nice boy, I suppose," Lir' said with that vaguely confused expression he usually seemed to wear when contemplating the mystery of having a third-brother, "but he's very quiet, so don't be surprised if you don't get much conversation out of him."

"We're of all types," Begug answered philosophically. "I just want to meet him, that's all. If he doesn't want to chat, that's all right. We'll spend the rest of the trip visiting with you and your growing little family, here."

Joyagi beamed at the inclusion, and Sibori probably would have, too, if she'd had lips to beam with.

When they found Amicu, the hatchling-- who was positively tiny, at least a foot shorter than even Sibori-- was sitting by himself in one of the many other side-rooms on the recreation deck. It was obvious just from looking at his back, tail, and folded wings that October Bonder had contributed some of his genes: he had the gray colors and a simplified version of his stripes, not to mention the robust genes for a Bonder daemon's feathered tail-tip. Then he looked over his shoulder, as Lirdunglu knocked on the wall above his niche, and the rest of the similarity ended: Amicu Soloculi had a blunt, round face, flopped ears, a single, dangling antenna bobbing above-- oddest of all-- his single, great, violet eye, smack in the middle of his face. To top it all off, the dangling antenna and a line of spots down his side were glowing, faintly, a vibrant, neon green. Yadtime had to shake himself to keep from staring, and focused on what he'd been doing when they showed up to interrupt him, instead.

That actually compounded the weirdness, but in a different way. Rather than having toys or picture books, as one would expect for someone who had only just hatched three weeks ago, Amicu sat on a stool fitted for something his size and shape, pushed up to the table. An on the table was a small holo projector, active and scrolling through what looked like a documentary. On life on Driolo hundreds of years ago. With a narrator whose monotone voice could probably put even the most dedicated student to sleep within minutes.

Then Amico pressed a button on the holo projector pad and the current scene-- a space ship lifting off from a dusty-looking town-- froze. "Hello," the hatchling said politely, in a slow, serious-sounding voice.

As Lir' had predicted, there wasn't really much in the way of conversation with Amicu Soloculi. He was friendly, in a drab sort of way-- even more drab than Yadtime's general friendliness seemed to be, which Yadtime himself had previously thought to be impossible-- but he was so serious and solemn that he didn't really have much to say. He seemed happy enough, though-- that was one thing Yadtime, of all people, was excellent at judging: how content another person was-- and even seemed to have a glimmer of private amusement behind his serious expression now and then, though the reason for it never revealed itself. He did think, though, that Amicu probably wouldn't have a lot of friends, not real friends. That, at least, they would have in common, beyond a rather tenuous connection of blood.

Begug, with his masterful skills in politeness and conversation, managed to keep them going for almost an hour, though, and seemed content coming away from it. When asked later, as the five of them settled down for lunch in a restaurant back in Star City, he just said, "He's nothing like our father. That is quite good enough for me."

"How many are there, so far?" Yadtime asked, after they'd ordered.

"Amicu and four unhatched ones, so far," his father answered. "Things have been a little slow lately-- but there's still plenty of time before the clutch hatches for people to sign up."

"I'm sure there will be more than enough of them. Father has a knack for siring more children than anyone should be allowed to, after all," Begug pointed out dryly. "Third-children included, I expect."

But Yadtime was thinking, as conversation moved elsewhere-- to the relatively new species Doctor Schroeder was now offering, terigons-- and lunch arrived. He and his uncle left the rest of the family at the Abstract Destiny, with a promise to return the following day for more than just lunch and chatter, and he was still thinking as they made their leisurely way back to their hotel, walking rather than using lifts.

"Uncle," he began thoughtfully; Begug was almost as embarrassed of his name as he was of his coloring, so Yadtime made an effort not to use it with him. "Would we be able to afford another person living with us?"

Begug, his mind probably still on the last conversation, said absently, "Probably. Why, would you like a terigon?"

His mind completely elsewhere, Yadtime blinked. "Well, that might be nice, but that wasn't what I was thinking about."

"Oh?" Begug glanced at him curiously. "What did you mean? Do you have a friend who needs a place to stay?"

"Not really... I was wondering, actually, if we could adopt one of your third-brothers. Or third-sisters, I suppose."

That brought Begug to a pause as he blinked down at him. "You'd like to? One of October's children?"

"Not all of Grandfather's children are bad," Yadtime pointed out, "just because he sired them. You said so yourself, 'we're of all types.' There's you and Father, after all, and that half-enkeyn was really cute. Besides, it would be nice to have someone else around, when you're working late...." Which he did fairly regularly, these days. 

After another long pause, while Begug thought about this, he shrugged and they continued walking. "If you'd like to, Yadtime, then we can sign you up to sponsor. You know looking after a child is work, I assume?"

"I know. They'd come to school with me, and I'd make them a lunch to take with, and making dinner for three will hardly be any different than dinner for two."

Begug chuckled softly. "Think about it tonight, and if you still want to when we meet Lir, tomorrow, we'll ask about signing you up. I think finances can stretch enough for a third person."

"Thank you, uncle," Yadtime said, and he expected he wouldn't be changing his mind anytime soon.

Chapter Six

Abstract Destiny

Back to Begug - Back to Yadtime