Current Track: Blabb
KEYBOARD SHORTCUTS
"Are you sure this is the right place, sir?" asked the rookie driver of the police van. "We don't usually come down here without riot gear."

"We aren't here for a riot," replied the dragon, from the back of the van. "Unless you think our being here will start one.  Just drop me off and I'll find my own way back."

The throng of people parted peaceably around the van, like a bow wave before a ship, as it made its way through the market district, then flowed back together again filling the void left behind.  As they turned the final corner, the dragon fastened his jacket, and grabbed his bag.

"If you don't hear from me within two hours, wait another two," said Dro.

"Sir?" came a confused squeak.

The dragon sighed and rolled his eyes.

The large rear doors of the van began to open while it was still moving.  As it slowed to a crawl, Dro stepped out, then shut the doors and slapped the top of the van with his palm.  The van lurched forward and accelerated away, having never come to a full stop.

As the crowd flowed back into the space previously occupied by the van, they discovered another large object had now joined them.  A three meter tall dragon wearing the uniform and insignia of Federation Internal Security.  The usually raucous street chatter had become noticeably subdued to quiet mutterings and whispers, probably thanks to the uniform.  Once again the social avoidance field made itself known, as the people instinctively gave him a wide berth where ever he went.

Stepping up on the curb he surveyed his destination with its large sweeping stairway which lead to a set of alabaster doors on the second floor.  Arrayed along its railings and banisters were barely modest white stone statues on plinths.  Both the male and female of several species were represented, some in simple poses, others bent into complex contortions meant to highlight either flexibility or musculature.  Over it all hung a large brightly lit marquee advertising "Mira's Massage and More".

It wasn't until he mounted the third stair tread, that he realized that these were not statues.  They were real live people, who had been heavily powdered as to appear white.  As he continued to ascend, they moved smoothly from one static pose to another, one by one, up one side of the stair and down the other in sequence.

Distracted by the display, Dro failed to notice that a large white wolf in a loin cloth had stepped down from his plinth near the doors, until he reached the third step from the top.  Only then did he notice that his path was blocked by the massive canine.  Their difference in height, now compensated by the stairs, put the wolf's face on the same level as his.

"How can I help you?" said the wolf in an even voice.

The dragon could now see the white powder covering the wolf's fur, which had been trimmed very close to accentuate his muscles, all of which would otherwise be lost under layers of plush fur.  Only a small ruffle of fur around his neck, where his ownership collar rested, revealed some of his natural dark coloration.  Even at rest his form looked chiseled from stone.

"My, what big... everything you have," the dragon quipped.

"All the better to do everything with," the wolf replied, his eyes narrowing, obviously not amused by the ancient joke.

"My apologies, Rook," offered the dragon, "I am here to speak with Mira, is she available?"

The wolf gave the dragon a sideways glance, then a hint of recognition appeared on his face.  He turned to the double doors and pulled them open. "This way, please," he said, his demeanor softening slightly.

The semi-circular parlor was still arranged in the same way as it had been on his previous visit, but the colors were softer.  Flowery incense burned in the wall sconces instead of the heady musk scent from before.  The niches in the walls contained more dusted statuesque workers waiting to be selected, or held containers of massage oil or towels.  Clients lay lounging on couches or across benches, being attended to by one or more employees.  

The massive fountain in the center of the room was new though.  Several clients lay on, or sat along its stone edge, allowing attendees to bathe them, or wash their feet.  But it was the statue, and this definitely was a statue, in the middle of the fountain that captured the dragon's attention most.  Emerging from the water, and stretching to the ceiling, was a life size dragon, sinuously wrapped around a cylindrical pole.  The sculptor had gone out of their way to leave no doubt that the dragon was female.

"Wait here, please," Rook intoned, as he stepped behind the counter and through the beaded curtain.
 
As he waited, Dro noticed movement in the hall as more workers passed between the private rooms, carrying towels, food, drinks, and anything else desired by the clients within.  All of whom, in addition to being dusted white, wore black blindfolds to preserve the privacy of whoever they were serving.

His attention turned to one particular worker having difficulty carrying a stack of clean towels.  He was not dusted white, and he wore no blindfold, but the folded towels were stacked so high that it obscured his vision.  As he waddled into the parlor, the dragon reached out and took the upper half of the teetering stack of towels, revealing a familiar Raccan face.    

"Oh thank you," puffed Preston, turning with the remaining towels before realizing who his benefactor had been.  After stacking them into a niche under one of the benches, he turned back to receive the upper portion of towels and froze.     

Dro said nothing, and tried to pass the towels to Preston's now unresponsive hands.

"I.. I only work here now," he stuttered, as he blindly took the towels.

"So I see," replied Dro.

"You.. you're with Internal Security?" Preston asked, pointing a shaky, ring-less finger at the uniform.

"When I need to be," said the dragon, leaning back against the counter.

"Are you.. Are you here for me?" he asked, his finger now pointing at his own chest.

The dragon dragged a claw across the counter top and examined it for imaginary dust. "I guess that depends on what I find."

He saw Preston's worried eyes suddenly brighten as a smile started on his face even before he heard the beaded curtain part behind him.  "Preston, what have I told you about talking to the customers?" asked a female voice, scolding him sarcastically.

"That I should do it as often as possible," he recited back like a schoolboy caught breaking a rule.

The dragon turned to face the curtain. "Hello, Mira."

The massive wolf then appeared through the curtain and moved protectively to Mira's side.  The beads knocking some powder off of his fur, giving him a distinct black and white striped pattern similar to Mira's.  "And you already know Rook," she said, gesturing.

"Hard to forget him," said Dro.

The wolf emitted a growl from deep in his chest, which ended in a high pitched yelp as Mira swatted his butt.

"Who should be outside watching the door," she scolded playfully.

Suddenly very sheepish, the wolf nodded and padded out through the double doors.

"I think the uniform puts him off.  He's a sweetie once you get to know him, and so is this one," she added as Preston made his way to her side and snuggled up to her.  "What can we do for you today.. officer?"

"Actually, I came here to speak with you, Mira.  Alone," he added while glancing down at the Raccan.

Preston fidgeted nervously.

"Very well, I am sure one of the private rooms is unoccupied," she said as she stepped out from behind the counter.  

Mira was much more conservatively dressed than when they had last met.  She still wore a one piece white dress draped over one shoulder, but it was no longer transparent, and was held in place by a large silver brooch.  She led the way down the hall, passing several closed doors, and stopping at the first open room.  "This will do nicely," she said, motioning for the dragon to enter.

Dro ducked his head through the door frame, and found the room to be more than spacious enough once inside.  The room was roughly circular, with two tiers of deep benches surrounding a raised pool.  The room was noticeably humid, and wisps of vapor could be seen rising from the pool.

After allowing the dragon to enter, Mira bent down and kissed the worried looking Raccan on the forehead. "Everything will be fine, love," she said before turning and entering the room herself, shutting the door, and sliding the latch to 'occupied'.  "We are alone," she affirmed.

The dragon glanced about the room, looking up at the molded ceiling and the light fixtures.

"All of Preston's cameras were removed and re-purposed for security.  The private rooms are now truly private," she assured the dragon.  "You will want to hang that coat up, or you will melt in here,"  she added, indicating a set of hooks along the wall.

He knew the coat was thermally neutral, it had to be for dragon physiology, and wouldn't make a difference if he wore it or not.  The room was also nowhere near his definition of 'hot', but he was trying to be cordial and did not want the uniform to put her off as well, so he dropped his bag against the wall, and removed the coat.  Even when placed on the highest available hook, it still pooled on the floor, covering his bag.

Old habits die hard, and the habit of always being at the back of a room facing the door was one of his oldest.  So he moved around the central pool until he was at the far side, then sat on the lower bench tier, reclined and placed his arms along the front edge of the upper tier.  "A perfect fit," he agreed, as he lifted his feet and crossed his legs over his tail on the edge of the pool.  His tail spade casually swishing in the warm water.

"I thought you would find a sauna room preferable, and less provocative, to a room containing a bed or massage table," said Mira, as she walked to where the dragon had chosen to sit, and sat on the raised edge of the pool next to his feet. "You said that you wanted to speak to me?"

Dro studied Mira closely, tilting his head side to side, then settled back and spoke twelve syllables in Old Draconian.

[mae'r goleuadau ymlaen, ond does neb gartref]
[the lights are on, but nobody is at home]

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The dragon closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, his posture noticeably relaxing.  "Congratulations, Mira."