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Subject: {ASSM} "First Impressions" by Gary (ScFi no-sex)
Date: Sat, 5 May 2001 20:10:05 -0400
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Disclaimer: Not 18? Go away. No sex in this one, anyway.
"First Impressions" by Gary (ScFi no-sex)
As I printed the order confirmation from Amazon.com, I
was greatful once again for the relative silence of my
old Canon ink-jet printer. The last thing I wanted
right now was to disturb the two sleeping lumps nestled
inside my shirt. At a few days old, they didn't do much
besides eat and sleep, and feeding them kept me quite
busy, while sleeping meant sharing my personal space and
body heat. I'd taken leave from the plant this week and
next because there was simply no way I could take them
to work and no way I could leave them for more than
minutes.
I double checked the order. "Dragon Singer", Dragon
Drums" and "Dragon Song" by Anne McCaffrey -
replacements for books long since loaned out and never
returned. I'd enjoyed them years ago. Now I needed
them for research. One of the lumps twisted fitfully,
tickling my ribs and making me smile. I couldn't help
but reflect back...
------------------------------------------------------
It was the second day of May. I'd just returned from a
trip I'd taken to participate in a Ceremony out of town.
Quite a ceremony, and I still wore a blissful expression
on my face - but that's a whole 'nother story. My
daughter, just recently turned "sweet sixteen" had
managed to get herself up and to school, but had left
me a note welcoming me home and asking me to pick up
a few things from the grocery store and to check on her
egg.
I checked on the egg first, even before storing my
purple robes. She'd brought it home a couple of weeks
before, saying it was for some kind of school project.
Details were a little sketchy - I guess I assumed that
it was one of those home-ec things where you pretend an
egg is your baby or something. Eggzavier, as I thought
of it (or him) had started off a bit soft, but had
firmed up to a brittle hardness recently. I always
thought they assigned regular hen's eggs for these
projects, but Eggzavier must have been an ostrich egg
or something - he was enormous compared to any grade A
large I'd ever seen. Little did I know.
Once I was unpacked, I looked over her shopping list.
Most peculiar, the list was heavy on inexpensive cuts
of meat, like round steaks and flank steak, hamburger
and chicken. Was my daughter planning a lot of
barbeques? The other part of the list was skin
products, moisturizers and creams. No snacks, no diet
soft drinks (an addiction we share), no side dishes made
the list. As I said, most peculiar. Well, the budget
could certainly afford everything she asked for, and if
she were planning a little outdoor cooking, I'd discuss
niceties like potato salad and chips when she got home
from school.
I checked Eggzavier again on the way out. When I
rotated him in his bed of heated kitty litter (my
personal coffee cup warmer providing the heat), I swear
I felt him shiver. I positioned him a little deaper in
his "bed" anyway, and gave him a little pat.
I was home again in under an hour. The clock by the
front door indicated 4:20, but it's set five minutes
fast anyway. My daughter would be home in another ten
minutes, nearly last off the bus, unless she stopped to
visit with friends. I hung my car keys under the clock
and headed for the kitchen to put up the nearly 20
pounds of meat I'd brought in. I never made it.
Little Eggzavier was rocking around in his bed on the
coffee table so hard, it looked like he'd roll out and
end up on the floor. I quickly set down the plastic
grocery bags and reached for him. No sooner did my
fingers make contact than a crack split the shell nearly
in two. More cracks appeared as I steadied the shell
and I thought I was in imminent danger of having a baby
ostrich or emu or some such in my hands.
What *did* emerge, moments later, was nothing I'd ever
dreamed possible. In place of some avian oddity, two
identical green-skinned creatures with swirling eyes and
tiny claws came creeling with hunger from the shell.
There was no doubt about the hunger - I felt it in an
overwhelming surge of sensation as though it was me and
not they. With one hand, I reached into a grocery bag
and extracted a round steak, used my teeth to rip off
the plastic wrap, then again to rip off a strip of meat
to place in their ravenous beaks.
We kept this up through two steaks, until they were
sated, me talking softly to my new dependents whenever
my teeth weren't busy ripping meat. Their eyes went
from a swirling red to green, before both fell asleep.
When at last I could look away, I was startled to find
my daughter standing in the open doorway, tears running
down her cheeks. Having figured out what was going on
(I have read all of the Pern novels), I could only look
an apology into her blue eyes (my legacy). I could tell
she knew as well as I that what was done could not be
undone.
I had impressed two green "fire lizards". They were
meant for her, but once impression occurs, an
irrevocable bond is formed. While we three lived, that
bond would bind us together in a kind of telepathic, or
at least telempathic symbiosys. I couldn't give her
either of my charges, even if I wanted to. And now,
while they slept, I needed information.
"Honey," I asked softly, "where did you get that egg?"
"I can't tell you that, Dad. We're sworn to secrecy. I
gave my word of honor I wouldn't tell." She wiped her
eyes and sat on the floor next to me, reaching out to
stroke supple skin.
"All right, I can respect that." For now, anyway, I
thought. "Who's 'we'?"
"Me and nine of my friends. We each got an egg. I got
first choice and picked the biggest. I was sorta hoping
for a queen. You know, a gold?" She didn't look at me,
her gaze was only for the fire lizards.
"Looks like we got twins, instead." I had to smile at
my green ladies. "Who are the nine friends?"
She listed them for me, all girlfriends who had been to
the house for visits or sleep-overs at one time or
another. That figured. I was vaguely pleased that no
boys were on the list, until that thought caused the
hair on my neck to stand up. Inadvertantly, there *was*
one "boy" on the list, now. My thoughts were
interrupted by the ringing of the phone. As I was in no
position to answer it (and calls between 4:30 and 10:00
P.M. were never for me, anyway), my daughter answered
for us.
The calls were steady for the next 20 minutes, with call
waiting getting a workout. The tally was three bronzes
and six blues. All males (the fire lizards, that is).
My two were the only females. I don't know if any of
the girls realized the implications. I wondered if all
the eggs were from the same clutch, and whether fire
lizards cared one whit about consanguinity.
Nine nubile fifteen or sixteen year olds, each with a
male fire lizard, and one old widower with twin female
fire lizards. I worked at the Power Plant of a prison,
outside the fence. I had no desire to visit the other
side. How long until Pat and Julie rose to mate? Would
my first indication be a brightening of there green
hides? I needed to do some research.
------------------------------------------------------
That was days ago. I knew I had some time, but I was
praying fervently that Amazon would not have any
"shipping delays", as I had heard rumored. I'd been a
widower for over three years, and I wasn't sure I could
lock myself away when the time came. The image of nine
teenagers surrounding me with dragon lizards perched on
their shoulders, eyes swirling, while Pat and/or Julie
blooded some poor squirrel in preparation for flight...
------------------------------------------------------
Special thanks to Denny for pointing me to alt.callahans
and a particular set of posts. It's all his fault.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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