Chapter Three #2
Gideon resisted the urge to just shut down the call.
The job was good. Paid well. Provided status that he would never find anywhere else on Leonid-One.
Well, not in this district or many of the others.
No one like him would ever live in these opulent surroundings, have these lavish things at his disposal.
And when there was no other future aside from working and then dying, it might as well be a comfortable living, yes?
Satisfied that Gideon would be silent, Farhet continued. “Your odd coloring wasn’t passed down to anyone else in your family, was it? No siblings, no cousins? No parents, aunts, or uncles?”
“No one, sir. As I told you when you hired me several years ago, I have a regressive genetic trait. My sisters did not have it.”
His sisters would have been turning thirty this year. Seven years gone. So much life left unlived. They would be ashamed of him, being a meek little errand boy.
What else was a Knight like him supposed to do with no family to speak of, no Pride to be a part of?
“So no one in your generation? No cousins?” Farhet pressed.
Gideon shook his head. “No one else in my family had it. One Pantherite relative in a sea of Leonids has meant that the Leonid genes and coloring are dominant. My... My other affliction, the white speckling, that’s another genetic mutation.
It’s specific to me, and likely what caused the melanistic coloring.
It may have nothing to do with having distant Pantherite relatives. ”
“Relatives? More than one?”
Gideon blinked slowly in order to hide his rolling eyes. If a person had a Pantherite relative, then yes, he must have had more than one, realistically speaking. His great-grandmother had parents, and they would have had parents, etc., etc... But aloud, Gideon replied, “Only one.”
“Good. And you say it may not even be the Pantherite lineage; it could be a genetic mishap? Something any unfortunate soul could be cursed with?”
Count to ten. Don’t swear. Don’t quit.
It is a curse, isn’t it? He’s not lying.
“Yes, sir, it could happen to anyone.”
“Even my son.”
“It could.”
“Excellent!”
Well. That was unexpected. “If you say so, sir.”
“No, what I mean is that if you come aboard the Comet Stalker and act as my substitute to breed the human Queen, and your strange discoloration is passed on, I could say it’s simply a rarity, a twist of fate. And I’m sure there are some treatments I could use on the cub to fix him.”
To fix him? If this condition were fixable, wouldn’t his parents have pursued it?
Maybe. Maybe not. They never thought anything was wrong with you.
To them, you were simply different. Do you remember when you went to the Tigerite Keys when you were little?
That one and only vacation? No one looked at you twice.
It’s only here. In this place, where pure blood and wealth are all that matter.
Yes, but for as well as this contract pays, it’s not enough to leave Leonid-One and start over someplace new. No matter how often my parents said it didn’t matter, around here, it does. In my life, it always will.
“Fur dye. Skin grafts. Something. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I want you here within the week, and the female should be fertile then.”
“Wait. Sir, are you asking me to provide— Well, to mate with your surrogate? And she would bear my son or daughter?”
My son. Or daughter. A Queen in my bed? His head spun. All those things were out of reach, always had been.
“As far as everyone will know, it will be my child. Think, Gideon! Your cub, living with you, would have nothing. A servant of a disfigured servant.”
He bristled. He was not disfigured; he was not discolored!
Farhet’s casual insults were borne of someone with too much money and power and not enough sense.
“Not everyone shares such a limited view,” he seethed, voice still careful and controlled.
Always careful. Always controlled. His shoulders and neck ached from years of tension.
“But as my child, a cub would have a future that includes every luxury, every comfort, every advantage! The finest schools, the best career offers, a house in the most prestigious district, and even a chance to rule it one day. Wealth, power, and privilege—and who is to say this new reproductive technology will work? I will pay you three years’ salary simply for trying to breed the human Queen, Gideon.
If she becomes pregnant, I will release you from your contract, with an additional three years’ pay, and give you enough money to buy a house—no, an estate!
—on Leonid-Three. You know it’s a much more liberal place, and it’s got a very diverse population.
Why, I was there only two cycles ago on business, and I tell you that Bastet Point, the capital, must be fully non-Leonid.
Tigerites, Servalis, Lynxians... I even glimpsed a few Pantherites, a Canid or two, and a whole delegation from the Avian Alliance. It was bizarre.”
Gideon closed his eyes. It wasn’t bizarre.
It was beautiful. All the people of different realms, walking side by side, working together, making the city a glorious hive of activity...
He could almost picture himself walking down those streets, back to his own home, into the arms of his loving Queen.
For yes, there were some Queens coming of age, or some Queens quite a bit older than him, those who had been sterilized in the hopes of saving their lives.
He wouldn’t need an heir. He would just need a chance at happiness. Freedom.
At what price?
“This is akin to prostitution,” Gideon said the dark thought in his mind.
He didn’t add that he was a virgin, as were many males of his age.
He had lusts, urges, and dreams, like any Knight.
His unique appearance, coupled with the place where he was raised, had made it difficult—and then the Queen Fever had made it impossible.
“Oh, nonsense! Prostitution is paying for sexual activities. I don’t care how you fertilize the human Queen; I just need the product at the end of it.
It would be surrogacy. Surrogate sperm donor and surrogate mother.
I’m paying for your help in rebuilding the species and saving the Imazi Pride!
A Pride that has sheltered you, clothed you, and paid you for your labor for years.
” Farhet’s tone alternated between wheedling and vaguely threatening.
For the first time in his life as Farhet’s assistant, secretary, and general right paw, Gideon argued. “Those were part of my contract. You received labor in return. Labor that existed at all hours, in all situations. But not this one.”
“I... I will give you 300,000 credits. You can set yourself up in a business, with a home, on any planet in any system. With that sort of money, you could buy a quarter of a place like Servali-Six or Lynx-Seventeen! You could buy one of the Pantherite Provinces! You’d never need to work again—if you were fairly careful and frugal with your money. ”
“300,000 credits, in addition to the salary advance you mentioned, if she becomes pregnant?”
“Yes! Pregnant by you, my chosen surrogate sperm supplier.”
Gideon felt greed and principles warring, but he pushed all thoughts away except for the one of him owning his own estate, his own business, his own little family somewhere far, far away from the snobs and social constructs of Leonid-One.
“Send me the offer, sir, and I will agree to it. I’ll be on the next long-range shuttle after the contract has been filed. ”
“Excellent. I knew you’d see sense. Now, before you board the shuttle, there are a few things you’ll have to do.
I’ll put it in the contract and send you a list. You should still be able to board the shuttle tonight, and the Comet Stalker is still in the Leopardine System. If you put the shuttle in hyperjump—”
“With one person flying it? That’s dangerous.”
“The long-range shuttles have autonav. You’ll simply put in the coordinates, and it’ll be fine.”
Gideon had an idea that things were going to be far from fine. The urge to say no reasserted itself—and the image of his own little home, a Queen waiting for him, a wealthy, independent Leonid—blotted it out. “Very good, sir.”