“Exactly. The Xylan see themselves as protectors, not profiteers. It’s part of their culture — honor, duty, all of that.” Roxy’s expression turns serious. “But that also means Timbur is the most strategically important planet in the Four Sectors. Anyone who wanted to destabilize Xylan authority, disrupt the power supply to governments and militaries across the known universe...” She trails off.
“They’d start here,” Ines finishes.
“They’d start here.”
Then they move to talking again about how our miners bond with crystals.
“So the fever bond is literally cellular?” Ines questions. “The crystal integrates with Xylan biology?”
“Exactly. It’s why only certain bloodlines can mine Illibrium. The bonding requires specific genetic markers. Without them, the crystal rejects the miner.”
“And the Fever Brothers’ scenting ability? How does that work?”
A grumble of displeasure rumbles in my chest.
Roxy’s eyes light up. “Sorry Trunk, I need to answer this, it’s one of my favorite topics. I’ve researched the heck out of this.” She looks again at Ines. “I’ve learned that the brothers’ability to scent their mate prior to the hand clasping is tied to reproductive compatibility,” she answers. “The scent markers indicate whether two beings can successfully produce offspring together. That’s what the Fever Brothers are detecting, fertility signals, essentially. Biological compatibility for reproduction.”
“So if something interfered with those fertility signals...” Ines says slowly, working it through.
“Theoretically, the scent would register as not compatible,” Roxy confirms. “Even if the underlying bond potential existed. The Fever Brothers would scent ‘no’ because the fertility markers weren’t there. Of course, that’s purely theoretical,” Roxy continues. “I don’t know of any documented cases where?—”
“Fascinating,” Ines interrupts smoothly, and then moving to a new question about Illibrium energy applications.
I barely hear the rest of their conversation.
Fertility signals? Not compatible. Even if the underlying bond potential existed.
It’s just theory. It has nothing to do with me or Ines.
Right?
Back at thecompound that evening, dinner is loud as always. Cannibal is on his third plate. The children are shrieking about something. Lila is trying to organize dessert while Claws keeps stealing bites when she’s not looking.
Ines sits across the table from me tonight. Not next to me. She chose that seat deliberately, I think.
I try not to notice. I fail.
After dinner, when the children are in bed and most of the family has dispersed to their private rooms, Scar appears in the common room doorway.
“I’m ready,” he says to Ines. “If you still want to talk.”
She straightens immediately, reaching for her tablet. “Yes. Thank you.”
This is significant. Scar doesn’t talk to anyone outside the family about his investigation. He’s obsessive about it, secretive and paranoid about information leaking to the wrong ears. But something about Ines has convinced him. Maybe he’s just desperate for fresh eyes on a case that’s consumed him for years.
They settle in the common room. Ines on the couch. Scar is in the chair across from her. I take up position nearby because I’m not leaving her alone with anyone, even my brother.
She’s still my responsibility.
“Where do you want me to start?” Scar asks.
“The beginning,” Ines offers. “Tell me everything.”
I remain quiet, letting Scar do all the talking. I find myself also curious to hear what he will have to say. I was there for all of these incidents, but I want to hear it all from his point of view. He lays it out methodically, the timeline and the evidence and all the connections he’s been tracking for years. His voice is flat and controlled, but I can hear the pain underneath. This is the wound that never healed. The obsession that drives him.
“Our parents were murdered in their beds,” he says. “Made to look like a robbery, but nothing was taken. The case was closed almost immediately. ‘Random violence.’ ‘Unfortunate tragedy.’” His jaw tightens. “Bullshit.”
Ines writes rapidly but doesn’t interrupt.
