“I came out to my mom,” Ethan had said.
Byron mulled that over and over in his mind as he headed to the university. He walked into the science department, and stopped at the secretary. “Is Dr. Davies in?”
The secretary consulted the computer. “He’s in class, room 178 in the Scorp building.”
“Thanks.”
He walked across campus to the building named for Black Scorpion. A rabbit’s warren of labs and other technological wonders, it also included all the different sciences possibly known. Byron was always surprised that his father still had a job here.
He walked into the room, trying to be quiet, and stood up against the wall in the back. As usual, his father didn’t see him come in, intent upon his lecture on milkweed pollenation. Things like that would bore the normal student, but the students didn’t know how interesting the man really was.
His father had salt and pepper hair, was well built and fit. Byron knew he performed tai chi and ran in the early mornings, because sometimes when he was stationed in Cap he would run with him.
Byron assumed the military stance he was comfortable with when he had to wait long hours standing up. Some people glanced back at him, but he kept his eyes front, his attention on the lecture, which he had heard countless times before. In time, some kids started putting away their books, meaning class would soon be over. Soon enough, the lecture finished, and Davies yelled out the last parts of the homework requirements. Byron came down the lecture hall, and that was when his father saw him.
“Byron,” said his father, smiling at him. “Long time no see. Where are you posted now?”
“I’m relieved from duty.”
His father’s smile went away. “What? Why?”
Byron looked at his father’s briefcase while he spoke. “I need to talk to you.”
“Are you in trouble?”
He shook his head.
“Come up to my office.”
Byron followed his father through the halls of academia back to the office he had just left. There were plants everywhere in his office, some in jars, some free-roaming – a moving ivy crawled across a credenza, a spider plant hung from the ceiling. Byron ducked from it and sat down in the only available seat other than the one at his father’s desk.
“What’s wrong?”
“I quit.”
“You quit?” His father sat back, making a steeple of his hands under his chin. “I was hoping you’d come around.”
“I haven’t given up,” he said.
“Byron, we’ve discussed this over and over. Julia and your mother are dead.”
“I’ve found out things about the Lost, dad. They’re not cannibals like you thought.”
Davies sighed, let down his hands. “Is that all you came to tell me?”
Byron played with a ring on his finger. “I’ve changed, dad.”
“Well, you quit Arachnos for one, so I think you have changed. Did you want to go finally finish school? I can get you in for next semester –”
“Dad? I’m a werewolf.”
“And you can start – You’re a what?”
“Werewolf.”
“Werewolf,” Davies repeated, stunned.
“Yes.”
Davies stared at him. “Werewolf.”
“Yes, dad.”
Davies said quietly, “How did that happen?”
“Occupational hazard.”
“So that’s why you’re out of Arachnos.”
Byron nodded.
Davies leaned forward. “We can find a cure, By – ”
“I don’t want a cure.”
“You…don’t?”
“I like this. They said I could live longer.”
“Won’t you get…stuck that way?”
Byron smiled. “I’m learning how not to.”
“There’s others?”
“Yes, dad.”
Davies leaned back. “You can still finish school – ”
“Dad, I don’t want to be a professor. Or a teacher. Or even a researcher. I liked being a soldier.”
“You were commander by the time you left?”
“Wolf Spider Enforcer.”
Davies snorted. “How ironic.”
“Trust me, the irony isn’t lost on me.”
Davies sighed. “You’re all I got left, Byron. I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know dad, but I’m 25. I can live my own life.” He fiddled with the ring again. “I have a boyfriend.”
“You do? This is news. I thought you were going to be celibate for the rest of your life.”
“I had other liasons,” Byron said, a slow blush coming over his features. “Just a couple.”
“Is he nice?”
“He’s wonderful.”
“Does he know?” He motioned to Byron.
“He’s one too.”
“I assumed so.” Davies again made a steeple of his hands and leaned on them. “As long as you’re happy, Byron. I kind of wish you would have taken up the mantle and taught something.”
“I’m not a good teacher, dad.”
“But you were a good enough soldier to advance in the ranks.”
“You said to do what you like, whatever your talents are.”
“Even though you hated piano. You still play, I hope?”
“Whenever I can.”
Davies nodded, “Good, good. Your mother would have loved to know that.”
Byron sighed, and looked down. The conversation dwindled off, and the only sound in the room was the rustling of the crawling ivy, looking for something to grab a hold of. “I didn’t give up. I’ll find out what happened to them.”
Davies sighed in his own turn. “I know you will, Byron. Just don’t let it eat you up inside.”
“It’s not, dad.” Byron had seen other men get eaten up by revenge, and decided he would not be one of those men. Byron got up. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
“Want to come for a run?”
“I’m coming from Nerva, I don’t think I’ll have time for that. I was thinking coffee before class.”
“My first class tomorrow is at one, but I have office hours at nine. Nobody shows up. We can have coffee then.”
“Cream, two sugars?”
Davies pointed at his temple, brought it down and pointed it at Byron. “Exactly.” He paused. “Think about school, will you? You don’t have to do teaching.”
“I’ll think about it, dad.” But he wouldn’t. He’d made up his mind a long time ago.
((I tried a different technique, one that I saw another writer use and I hated it. I think this one dropped enough hints about Byron to show that he came from a very smart and possibly well-off family.))