“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request. He settled into one of the chairs, keeping his posture straight and his face calm.
Naran remained standing, his tail moving in slow, measured sweeps behind him. “How long have you been working at the main reproductive facility?”
He was quite sure that Naran already knew, but he answered him anyway.
“Almost twenty years. I started as a guard and worked my way up to Captain.”
“And what do you think of the program? Honestly.”
He opened his mouth to spout the usual line about their efforts slowly but steadily succeeding, then changed his mind.
“We’re failing.”
“Failing.” Naran’s mouth twisted. “That’s a generous word for it. Do you know how many viable children we’ve produced in the last decade?”
“No.”
“Ninety-eight. All of them male.” The word echoed in the quiet room. “More than twenty years of research. Billions of credits. And we have nothing to show for it but a collection of increasingly desperate theories and a population that shrinks every year.”
He said nothing. He’d suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed by a Council member was different.
“The Council has been debating our options for years,” Naran continued. “Some advocate for acceptance. A dignified end to our species, with resources redirected towards preserving our culture and history for whoever comes after us.” His lip curled. “Others are determined to keep going with our current efforts.”
“And you, Councilor? What do you advocate?”
Naran’s eyes met his, and for a moment Becsul saw something unexpected there. Not the cold calculation he’d always associated with the Council’s inner circle, but something rawer. Rage.
“I advocate for survival,” Naran said. “By whatever means necessary.”
He moved to his desk and activated a holographic display. An image appeared in the air between them—a Manigan male with white scaled skin and an unusual shock of orange hair wearing a lab coat.
“This is Dr. Veyalor. I brought him here. He is the reason this facility exists.” Naran looked down at his hand, thoughtfully examining his fingertips. “Veyalor had a relative who conducted reproductive research. Dr. Pagalan’s methods were… questionable at best, but his results were unprecedented.”
“What kind of results?”
“His primary interests were in extending the age range for female fertility and increasing the odds for multiple births with each pregnancy. But when Veyalor inherited his estate and began going through his records, he found somethingelse. Something that suggested a Cire male had reproduced successfully with a non-Cire female.”
The ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble at the words. His tail lashed once, hard and agitated, as he fought back a sudden overwhelming wave of hope.
“That’s impossible,” he heard himself say, his voice shaking. “We’ve always been taught that it is impossible to reproduce without a mate bond, and a Cire male can only form a mate bond with a Cire female.”
“Everything we’ve been taught may have been wrong.” Naran’s voice was calm. “Or at the very least, incomplete. According to the records Dr. Veyalor found, Dr. Pagalan believed that successful fertilization was not only possible but had already occurred.”
“Already occurred?”
“He claims that one of his experiments proved it.”
Another race biologically compatible with theirs? Everything he’d ever been taught argued that it was impossible.
“Who is this race that is supposed to be compatible with us? Does that mean they are capable of forming a mate bond?”
Naran focused even more intently on his fingertips.
“They are called humans. They are from a pre-flight planet that is not part of a Confederated Planets system. As far as the mate bond?” Naran shrugged. “Dr. Pagalan’s research wasn’t conclusive.”
The shocks just kept coming. Natural reproduction was dependent on a mate bond. And a primitive race…
