Synopsis: The founder of an aerospace company discovers that the dragoness who is his personal transport wants to be more than just that.
This story is self-contained and can be read alone. (7,045 words)
*****
Ian Caedry was upset when he left the restaurant. His face was carefully held in a neutral expression, but the fast, impatient pace of his steps revealed his agitation.
When Ian walked quickly, his support staff also walked quickly to keep up. Two bodyguards escorted him, keeping a respectful (but secure) distance around the aviation tycoon. A pair of personal assistants trailed just beside the man himself, already scribbling in their notebooks as he spoke to them in quiet tones.
Rafale watched as her owner strode rapidly towards her. As Ian approached, the two dragons sitting beside Rafale smoothly rose to standing positions. They were dragons like her, and yet they were very different. Rafale was a rainbow swiftwing—a breed that was usually used as pets or as racers. Her body was swift and sleek, and her scales were an elegant green. Built for speed, she could only carry one human's weight, but that one human was important indeed.
In comparison, the other two dragons were dusky inimicals—they too were built for speed, but in an altogether different way. Their scales were dark as night, and even their footsteps seemed quiet. Yet though stealthy, their real strength was in their aerial speed and manoeuvrability—dusky inimicals were usually used as air-superiority fighters in the military. They were lightweight enough to keep pace with a racing dragon (as long as she didn't sprint), but if it came to a fight, there were only a few types of dragon that could hope to outfly a dusky inimical. Ian didn't just have human bodyguards; he was protected by dragons as well, which was appropriate given his work.
Rafale stood up and stretched her legs, then she crouched back down to let Ian climb onto her back. "Had a good dinner?" she asked.
"No I did not. Let's go home." Ian climbed into the saddle and strapped in his legs. He buttoned up his blazer so it wouldn't flap in the wind—though he was wearing business attire, it was a modified suit which was flexible enough that he could easily ride a dragon. His bodyguards were attired in the same way, and they too climbed onto the dusky inimicals, as did Ian's personal assistants. But Ian was the only person who got to ride on Rafale, and that was a point of pride for her.
"Home it is." Rafale spread her wings open, but one of the bodyguard dragons was the first to leap into the air. This was standard protocol. Rafale was never the first to land or the first to takeoff—such risks were reserved for those whose job it was to handle them.
Rafale jumped into the air next, followed quickly by the second dusky inimical. Flying in a tight formation, the three dragons gained altitude and turned, heading towards home. Rafale pumped her wings hard, feeling the strain in her muscles as she climbed higher in the darkening sky. The evening air was smooth and cool against her wings, but Ian's hand was warm when he patted her neck. "Go fast..." he told her, and the dragoness sped up her wingbeats, striving to obey.
Flying faster meant that the noise of the rushing wind would drown out any chance of conversation, but that had probably been Ian's intention. Rafale knew her owner better than anyone else, and she could see that something had upset him. How strange—perhaps his working dinner appointment had not been as productive as expected.
The two dusky inimicals were in standard formation for a fighter escort—one on each of Rafale's sides, diagonally just ahead and just behind. As she sped up her flight, they also picked up their speed to match her pace.
Their journey home would take them across state borders. Ian's dinner meeting had been in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and now they were returning towards New York, New York. On foot this journey would have taken a full day, and even by motorized car this trip would have taken at least four hours, but by wing they covered in it just a single hour. Such rapid transit was but one of the advantages of draconic flight capability, and it was on these concepts which Ian had founded his company years ago.
The sun had set fully by the time they were approaching the Big Apple, but electric lighting kept the city's distinctive skyline fully visible, illuminating the tapering skyscrapers with their pointed spires. Over the decades, zoning laws had steered architecture in a unique, noticeable fashion—the buildings were setback in steps, growing thinner towards their higher floors. This served several purposes—it kept streets from feeling too compact and being cast into shadow, but more importantly it gave dragons the space to takeoff and land down at street level.
Descending from cruising altitude, the three dragons flew across the city centre. Dozens of other dragons could be seen crisscrossing the airspace, carrying passengers or cargo—though it was impossible to see this small detail from afar, Rafale knew that most of them were wearing flight harnesses marked with the logo of Caedry Aerospace. They were Ian's dragons, just as she was.
Ian's personal home was a penthouse apartment, in the residential tower which was just next-door to Caedry Aerospace Group's headquarters. Rafale landed smoothly, bending her legs as she gently touched down on the skyscraper's roof. Unstrapping his leg restraints, Ian slipped off her back and headed towards the stairwell leading down into the building. Walking at his brisk pace, he paused in the corridor for a few seconds to bid good night to his personal assistants and bodyguards. In a way, Rafale reflected, Ian owned them all too.
A human-to-human employment contract was very different compared to the chattel ownership which humans could hold over dragons, yet the lives of Ian's closest support staff revolved entirely around the business and schedule of the aerospace tycoon. When Ian woke up in the morning, his personal assistants would already have his breakfast prepared and scheduled out his day's meetings and appointments, while a rotating team of bodyguards would always be nearby to keep him protected. All the support staff lived right here as well—Ian's apartment was the majority of this upper level, but there were also separate rooms for his support staff. They were almost like a family, albeit a family which was bound by a different sort of relationship—bound by their jobs and loyalty, instead of by blood.
Yet Ian still treated his staff like family. He knew them all by name, even the two dusky inimicals who served as aerial bodyguards. Many humans treated dragons as lower forms of life, seeing them as dumb animals or beasts of burden, but not Ian Caedry.
As far as Rafale knew, no other human understood dragons as well as Ian did. He knew how they flew, so he could plan optimal air routes and efficient logistics. Just as importantly, he knew how their minds worked, so his company could keep their dragons motivated and content. This much and more—everything else which had helped him revolutionize the aerospace industry, bringing him all his influence and wealth.
But when Ian said goodnight to his bodyguards and personal assistants, he didn't bother to give this same farewell greeting to Rafale—he didn't need to. As Ian walked through his apartment door, Rafale followed quietly behind him. Technically she was just his personal transport—a racing dragon whose egg he'd purchased back in the earlier days of his company—but she was also his pet.
Rafale had her own living quarters down the corridor, but she hardly ever used that room. The bed there was large and comfortable, but she much preferred sleeping on the carpeted floor of Ian's bedroom. Sleeping alone made her feel lonely, and she was fairly certain that she wasn't the only one who felt that way.
--
Ian flung his briefcase onto his desk before helping Rafale to remove her saddle. With the dragoness relieved of her flight harness, Ian shrugged out of his blazer. He undid his shoelaces and left his shoes beside his bedroom door. Walking back to his desk, he opened up his briefcase and looked through his documents. "No paperwork to be done tonight—that's a rare occasion. I ought to celebrate by getting a good night's sleep. What a day, what a
day
!"
Rafale took Ian's blazer in her jaws and carefully hung it up on a hook on the wall. Using the tip of her tail, she nudged Ian's shoes until they were neatly lined up together. "Oh?" she prompted.
"No, actually the day was fine. It was the
evening
which was the problem," Ian continued. He undid his belt buckle and began unbuttoning his shirt. As he continued removing his clothing, he strolled into the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He didn't bother to shut the bathroom door, though he did draw the shower curtain. "That dinner was...trying in a most unexpected manner."
Rafale sat down on her haunches, waiting just outside the shower. While her owner cleaned himself, she began carefully licking her scales clean. For a dragon, using water and soap to wash was a rare event as the harsh detergent chemicals were more damaging to dragon scales than to human skin.
"Did that woman not agree to vote for your proposal?" Rafale asked. It wasn't her business to know about Ian's business, but he rarely bothered to hide things from her. She'd known that Ian (and his company) had been lobbying for a particular law to be enacted, and his dinner today was with some important politician whose support they needed.
"No, no. Congresswoman Parker was happy to support the bill. And why wouldn't she be? The Free Skies Act will benefit the whole country, of course, but the eastern seaboard will see a huge economic boom once dragons regularly start flying transatlantic to Europe. With that sort of support, her re-election next year will be a given. She'll vote for the bill. Deregulation is only logical."
"So then why are you bothered?" Rafale asked.
"I'm not bothered!" Ian replied, but his response came too fast and too snappy. The flow of water in the shower was cut off, and Ian grabbed a towel to dry himself. He was done after just a couple of minutes; he had never been fond of wasting time enjoying a relaxing shower. "I'm just... It's difficult to explain. Parker—
Congresswoman
Parker wasn't...she was... I don't know if you'll understand."
It was rare to hear Ian unsure of what to say, so Rafale said nothing. Sometimes saying nothing was the best way to get people to continue talking. All she needed to do was listen.
Pulling on a loose shirt and a pair of shorts, Ian left the bathroom and went back to his bedroom. "I shouldn't even be talking about it. If I knew what was best for everyone involved, I'd keep my mouth shut and forget it ever happened."
Rafale had been following her owner, but now her tail swished in agitation. Ian sounded
intimidated
! How dare this Parker woman make Ian so upset? It made Rafale want to grab Ian and protectively warp her wings around him. "She threatened you!?"
Ian shook his head and snorted. "No, of course not. She acted in a manner which was...unbecoming of someone in her position."
"You mean she did something embarrassing?"
"Not like that." Ian sighed. He turned to stare directly at the dragoness who was his pet, and somehow also the person he could be most honest with. "Rafale, promise me you won't talk about this to anyone else. It's
really
