Chapter Eleven
Ines
Igot stabbed today.
The thought keeps circling in my head as we travel back to the compound. A blade went into my body causing white-hot pain and I saw my own blood on my fingers.
I could’ve died.
The memory of it hits me in waves, of attackers surrounding me, a scary male’s flat, bored voice telling me that I should’ve left when I had the chance. That horrible moment I realized this wasn’t a whistleblower but was instead an execution.
And then Texon was there. That angry miner killed other Xylan to protect me.
Scar, Rook and Heavy burst from the jungle too, and suddenly it was four Fever Brothers against the four attackers, and the odds shifted. I thought I was safe, but I wasn’t fast enough. That last attacker got to me anyway.
Part of me wonders if I was stupid to go. Walking into an obvious trap because I wanted to believe it could be real. I guessI have a special place in my heart for whistleblowers, and if that was what this was, I wanted to give this being every chance to get to me and tell their story. But this wasn’t a whistleblower, and just like I’d been warned, this was a way to get me alone and get rid of my investigation, permanently.
But when we got back to the compound, none of the brothers treated me like I’d been stupid. Texon didn’t berate me, he was simply there, holding my hand. Scar talked about the evidence they’d gathered with Rook’s tracking tech and how they’d identified the attackers and confirmed their connection to Kryzon.
They’re not angry at me. They’re more protective, if anything. And we did get information real information. The attackers were Kryzon’s old crew. The recording captured everything. It’s not enough to convict him, not yet, but it’s more than they had yesterday.
Maybe it wasn’t stupid. Maybe it was worth it. Or maybe I’m just trying to justify getting stabbed.
Texon brings me back to the compound and everyone fusses over me. They are so sweet. Lila brings food before I can even sit down. Jana insists I eat every bite. Roxy checks my side, even though the med techs already cleared me. Naomi squeezes my hand and tells me she’s glad I’m okay.
The women are relieved and the brothers collectively seem to be grim but glad I’m staying.
As for me, I’m exhausted but wired. The med tech said to rest, hydrate and sleep. One good night and I’ll be fully healed. This is amazing. On New Earth, a stab wound like that would mean a week in the hospital, minimum. Stitches, antibiotics and follow-up appointments. Scars. Pain management. Physical therapy, maybe, depending on the muscle damage. And all of this would cost me a fortune that I’d be making payments on for years.
Here, it’s a few hours in the med lab and one good night’s sleep.
I keep looking at my side, expecting to see a wound. There’s nothing. Just smooth skin, as if a blade never went through me hours ago. The med lab sent my health data to my tablet, and I’ve been scrolling through it obsessively, trying to understand.
They fixed everything.
Not just the stab wound. My eyesight is now perfect. I’ve worn glasses since I was twelve, contacts when I could afford them, and now apparently I don’t need either. The painful periods I’ve dealt with my whole adult life? Gone. Some kind of hormonal imbalance they corrected while they were in there. The chronic tension in my shoulders from hunching over my tablet? Addressed.
And it was free. All of it. Free.
Back home, in Singapore, there’s a new med lab being installed in my neighborhood. It’s part of a government initiative to provide free basic healthcare access to everyone. I was excited about it — free treatment for injuries and trauma, life-saving techniques that wouldn’t bankrupt people. It was going to be lovely. But it was basic. It couldn’t do what this med lab did. It couldn’t fix infertility. It couldn’t correct eyesight. It couldn’t casually repair a dozen minor health issues as a side effect of treating a stab wound.
The miners on Timbur and their families get the best medical care in the four sectors, because Illibrium miners are rare and valuable.
Fertility restored.
The words keep echoing in my head. I can carry my own biological children now and be a mother. After years of accepting that it would never happen for me, it’s possible now. The med tech said it so casually.Oh, and while we were repairing the tissue damage, we also corrected some scarring on yourreproductive system.Like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t the thing I’d grieved for years, the future I’d forced myself to stop wanting.
I don’t know how to feel about it. Happy? Overwhelmed? Terrified?
All of the above, probably.
“Ines, you need to eat more.” Jana slides another plate in front of me. “The med tech said nutrition is important for full recovery.”
They’re trying to get me to eat more pancakes. Jana has done an amazing job, program their food dispenser to serve every type of human food imaginable. So, when I said my favorite food was pancakes with maple syrup, they were on it. “Uh, I’ve already had a stack.”
“Have some more.” She gives me a look that brooks no argument. “You lost blood today. Your body needs fuel to rebuild.”
“I want more too,” Texon grunts.
