The Dragon Variation by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page A

up his sleeve and sprayed antiseptic on his hand and arm.
    "Cold!"
    "Only for a moment," Er Thom murmured, tapping the command sequence into the autodoc's panel. He looked down at his son and slipped a hand under the chin to tip the small face up. "This may hurt you, a little. Can you be very brave?"
    Shan gave it consideration. "I'll try."
    "Good." Er Thom went down on one knee by the stool and put his arm around Shan's waist. The other hand he used to guide the child's fingers into the 'doc's sampling unit. "Your hand in here—yes. Hold still now, denubia  . . ."
    He leaned his cheek against the soft hair, raising his free hand to toy with a delicate earlobe, eyes on the readout. When the needle hit the red line, he used his nails, quickly, deftly, to pinch Shan's ear, eliciting a surprised yelp.
    " Mirada! "
    The unit chimed completion of the routine; the readout estimated three minutes for analysis and match. Er Thom came up off the floor in a surge, sweeping Shan from the stool and whirling him around.
    "Well done, bold-heart!" he cried in exuberant Low Liaden and heard his son squeal with laughter. He set him down on his feet and offered a hand, remembering to speak Terran. "Shall I show you a thing?"
    "Yes!" his son said happily and took the offered hand for the short walk back to the piloting chamber.
     
    BRONZE WINGS SPREAD wide , the mighty dragon hovered protectively above the Tree, head up and alert, emerald-bright eyes seeming to look directly into one's soul. Shan took a sharp breath and hung slightly back.
    "It is Korval's shield," Er Thom murmured, though of course the child was too young to understand all that meant. He ran his palm down the image. "A picture, you see?"
    The boy stepped forward and Er Thom lifted him, bringing him close enough to run his own hand down the smooth enameled surface. He touched the dragon's nose.
    "Name?"
    "Ah." Er Thom smiled and cuddled the small body closer. "Megelaar."
    "Meg'lar," Shan mispronounced and touched the Tree. "Pretty."
    " Jelaza Kazone ," his father told him softly. "You may touch it in truth—soon. And when you are older, you may climb in it, as your uncle and I did, when we were boys."
    Shan yawned and Er Thom felt a stab of remorse. A long and busy morning for a child, in truth!
    "Would you like a nap?" he murmured, already starting down the hall toward the sleeping quarters.
    "Umm," he son replied, body relaxing even as he was carried along.
    He was more asleep than awake by the time Er Thom laid him down in the bed meant for the delm's use and covered him with a quilt smelling of sweetspice and mint.
    "'Night, Mirada ," he muttered, hand fisting in the rich fabric.
    "Sleep well, my child," Er Thom returned softly, and bent to kiss the stark brown cheek.
    On consideration, and recalling his own boyhood, he opened the intercom and locked the door behind him before going back to the autodoc.
    "yos'Galan, indeed," he murmured a few moments later, carrying the 'doc's gene-map with him into the piloting chamber.
    He sat in the pilot's chair, eyes tracing the intricate pattern revealed in the printout. yos'Galan, indeed. He glanced at the board, fingered the gene-map and looked, with distaste, down at his shirt. He was not accustomed to sleeping in his clothing, and then rousting about, rumpled and unshowered, for half-a-day afterwards.
    The board beckoned. Duty was clear. Er Thom sighed sharply and lay the gene-map atop the prime piloting board.
    He wanted a shower, clean clothes. What better time than now, with the child, for the moment, asleep?
    A shower and clean clothes, he thought, removing his jacket and laying it across the chair's back. Duty could wait half-an-hour.
     
    "ER THOM?  . . . Shannie!"
    Anne let her briefcase fall as she darted forward, flashing through the tiny apartment: Empty bedroom, dark bathroom, silent kitchen.
    "Gone."
    Pain hit in a hammer blow, driving the breath out of her in a keen that might have been his name.
    Er Thom! Er