Chapter Five
Ines
The cafeteria is packed.
This is day two of my tours of the Minecorp operation on Timbur. We started in the actual mines again this morning, spending time with the fever brothers again. That was really eye opening, watching them actually mine the Illibrium.
And now we’re all hungry and filling up the cafeteria.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, Jana warned me that the midday rush can be intense, but I’m still not prepared for the sheer volume of massive Xylan bodies crammed into this space. The noise is incredible. Hundreds of miners and Minecorp employees talking and laughing, the clatter of trays and utensils. The smell of food is yet again amazing though. Rich and savory, nothing like the bland protein packs I expected from a mining operation.
They really are lucky to have such an excellent chef creating their menus and running this operation. Lunch is going to be delicious.
Texon walks beside me. He’s still my shadow and I’ve learned that his default expression is dour. It’s charming, really. In an infuriating sort of way. I’m not sure when this happened, but I find I enjoy his company. This whole mission on Timbur is turning into one of the best work projects of my life. I’d almost call this a vacation rather than actual work. In my room at night, I’ve already started writing the actual article, getting all my notes together and trying to get everything down before I forget what my notes meant. I’m not allowed to make any audio or visual recordings so it’s important I get my impressions down fast.
I’ve enjoyed getting to know my interview subjects, the women who have all married fever brothers and then chose to relocate to this mining planet. But my favorite person on the planet turns out to be the sexy Xylan assigned as my stern bodyguard.
We join the line, and I crane my neck to see the food options. Jana’s outdone herself. There’s actual fresh vegetables, some kind of roasted meat that smells incredible.
“Trunk!” A Xylan miner waves from several places back in the line. He’s wearing the same work uniform as Texon, covered in the pale dust of the mine.
Texon grunts. “Vektor.”
“Got a question about the level twelve rotation. Chief said to ask you.”
Texon glances at me, clearly torn between his self-appointed duty as my guard and whatever mining business this is.
“Go,” I say, waving him off. “I’m in a cafeteria line. I think I can manage not to die for thirty seconds.”
He narrows his eyes at me but steps out of line, moving back toward the other miner. I watch him go, admiring the breadth of his shoulders and his perfect ass before I catch myself and turn back around.
Get a grip, Ines.
“You must be the journalist.”
I turn to find a Xylan male standing beside me. He’s older than Texon, with a polished look that seems out of place among the dusty miners. His uniform is cleaner, his posture more refined. He smiles, and it’s warm. Friendly.
“Word travels fast,” I say.
“On Timbur? Always.” He chuckles. “I’m Kryzon. I work in mine administration.”
“Ines Vieira.” I accept the gloved hand he offers and shake it. “Singapore News Network. Well, formerly. I’m freelance now.”
“Ah, an independent. Brave.” His eyes crinkle with what looks like genuine admiration. “I’ve heard you’re investigating the Fever Brothers’ situation. The family’s history with Minecorp.”
“Among other things.” I keep my voice neutral. Friendly but professional. “Do you know the family?”
“Everyone knows the Fever Brothers. They’re quite famous on Timbur. Their parents’ death was a tragedy.”
“The cargo accident,” I say, watching him carefully.
“Yes. Terrible business.” He shakes his head slowly. “The family has never recovered, I think. And then Daxon’s disgrace, the demotion of the remaining brothers... It’s been hard on them. They’re good miners. Good males. They deserve better than the hand they’ve been dealt.”
The line moves forward. I take a step, and he moves with me, still talking.
“If you need any information about the mine’s official records, I might be able to help. Administration has access to files that aren’t publicly available.” He tilts his head. “Personnel records. Incident reports. That sort of thing.”
My journalist instincts perk up. “That’s... very generous.”
