It wasn’t, of course.
All she had at the moment was her finely honed instinct in search of evidence that would prove her theory. A probable answer, but no guarantee of a solution. Yet. Which is why she’d kept her mouth shut during the elevator ride down to the clinic.
Of moderate size, the Medical Clinic, situated across from the science lab she’d been using, was decorated in the standard earth tone decor. A smaller, separate area at the rear housed the morgue.
She was almost across the room when she realized that Vand was sitting at one of the data consoles. He obviously hadn’t expected to be interrupted, least of all by her, because his blond hair hung loose around his shoulders. She immediately veered from her original course and headed straight for him. With a quick, questioning glance behind her, Vand hastily pulled his hair back, away from his face.
“Stop,” she ordered.
Startled, he released his hold on his hair, which tumbled down his back. With a nod of thanks, she reached out and threaded her fingers through a lock of his hair. He shifted restlessly under her touch, but she ignored him. Vand was Judan’s brother. Lorre’s brother. Another genetic link.
“Myrina!”
She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough Judan was right behind her. And severely unhappy she was openly admiring Vand’s unbound hair. He had, quite correctly, assumed she’d been talking about Lorre when she’d told him his brother had left a clue. But she couldn’t let taboos surrounding Dakokatan hair dictate a chance to decipher the Hitani problem. Or, more importantly, find a solution for the Outposters.
Releasing Vand’s hair, she whirled to face him. Standing toe-to-toe with him, she said, “I’m going to touch Lorre’s hair, too. Are you going to tell me off the way you did in deMorriss’ office?”
“What?” he said. Behind her, Vand barked out an incredulous laugh.
“Remember?” she said. “Tak tahu something, something.” She gestured wildly to fill in the blanks.
A wry smile touched his lips and he shook his head. “Tak tahu adat mati,” he said. “I suppose I do owe you an apology for that. I claimed you didn’t have a proper respect for the dead.”
“Oh, so you weren’t swearing?” She dropped her hand. “You were defending your brother.”
“Disappointed?”
She shook her head. How could she be disappointed in a man who had actual principles and lived by them?
“I’m sorry about Lorre,” she said. “I meant no disrespect, then or now, but my focus is on the living. They’re the ones I can help.”
“Fine, Little Warrior,” he said, with a slightly amused look on his face. “You do what you have to.”
“With Lorre?”
He nodded.
“With you?”
His eyes blazed wide with surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said.
“With Vand?”
This time his features sobered and he didn’t answer right away.
“Or are you afraid of a little competition?”
They both knew what she was asking and that her question really had nothing to do with Vand. Had he really meant what he’d said the other day about the pilot turned politician needing the scientist? Trusting the scientist. Trusting her. Trusting that she wasn’t being capricious with Dakokatan customs or the Outposters’ lives.
“If this is about the Outposters, I’ll help you,” Vand said. The determination in his voice was laced with a hint of his customary bravado.
Myrina turned back to Vand. He hadn’t touched his hair. Despite his bold actions, though, he didn’t look completely comfortable. His gaze skipped between her and Judan, suggesting he was waiting for Judan before making his final decision.
“Yes and thanks,” she said.
Seconds later Judan’s thumb shoved aside the edge of her shirt. His index finger traced a path along her collarbone, effectively drawing her attention back to him. Damn the man. Even with her systems on high alert, his touch melted her bones.
His fingers curled around her shoulder. Not painfully, but with a definite urgency. It was the only part of his body that betrayed his emotions because his face remained an impassive mask. After another moment, he nodded.
“Thank you,” she whispered for his ears alone, then turned to face Vand.
“Are you willing to help me?” she asked, nodding toward the back of the room.
His features tightened, but he nodded.
“Good,” she said. “I’ll need three evidence packs, one for each of you.”
Judan followed them both into the smaller room where they stood facing a square block of four separate compartments set into the wall. The neutral beige tones made the room seem devoid of warmth. She hadn’t noticed the starkness the last time she’d visited and wondered at her sudden awareness today. Was she picking up vibes from the two men with her? She tried to shrug off the bizarre notion, yet a little voice told her she’d at least tapped into Judan’s emotions.
Both men visibly stiffened when she pressed the button on the control panel. The lower right compartment door opened and the slab holding Lorre’s body automatically slid out. She bent over the dead man’s head. There, quite visibly, were strands of white hair interspersed with the reddish blond.
“Chiara’s hair is turning white,” she said, striving for a conversational tone. Neither brother so much as blinked at her insider’s knowledge of what lay under the Second’s wig.
“She’s the oldest crew member,” Judan said. He’d reverted to a monotone and his hands were fisted at his side, sure signs he was struggling to compose himself.
She wouldn’t put Chiara much past forty-five. Not very old by most standards. “So it’s common for Dakokatans’ hair to turn white as they grow older?”
She’d already donned a pair of thin, sterile gloves and set to work separating the strands of hair, isolating a sample of a white one. Behind her she heard Vand mutter a series of words she was sure were Dakokatan expletives.
“No,” Vand said. “Usually only when Rakanasmara ends after one life partner dies.”
“Or,” Judan said, his eyes on Lorre, “When Rakanasmara doesn’t come. Is that what you think?”
So Chiara was losing, maybe already had lost, her chance for Rakanasmara. Myrina placed the strand of Lorre’s hair in the marked evidence bag Vand handed her. She glanced up when he handed her a second bag containing one long blond strand, root intact. His hair was neatly braided behind his back.
She looked over at Judan. He’d guessed her working hypothesis, but she wasn’t prepared to admit it just yet. Silently, she nodded toward the third evidence bag. He looked solemn. Grim. Her heart ached at the grief mirrored so clearly in his eyes for the loss of a beloved brother. She didn’t understand her own emotions. Sympathy, yes. She’d experienced that many times during her years on the job. But empathy? She’d never had any brothers, sisters, a mother, father, cousins. Anyone she could truly mourn. Yet the hollow sensation in her stomach told her this time she wasn’t imagining the connection. She felt Judan’s pain.
He reached up, yanked a strand of hair from his head and dropped it into the evidence bag Vand held open for him. She collected the third bag with a nod of thanks.
Judan caught her arm, stopping her exit before she’d stepped five paces outside the tiny room.
“I want those people off Hitani, Myrina. But I also want to know why, so I can make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.”
“I have to go to the lab and do some tests,” she said. That was all she would say or could tell either of them at the moment. Because, if her hypothesis was correct, it might well be impossible to save seventy-seven people who needed a genetic trigger to leave the hostile planet alive.
Chapter Twelve
Myrina ignored the fresh blast of cool air that shot out of the elevator’s vents above her head. The ship’s environmental control had dimmed the lights hours ago and had begun cleaning the recycled air. By rights she should be sleepy. Be
fore she’d left the lab a few minutes ago, she’d tipped her head back and squeezed some drops into her itchy eyes. But other than a little blurry vision, she felt alert and edgy.
When she reached the observation deck, the elevator doors swished open revealing an endless expanse of black space dotted with light. The Speedlite’s propulsion system was in recycle mode too, and she hadn’t even noticed. Spotting a twinkling star, she automatically plotted a path to the next bright light. An old habit. Except she didn’t know if she was trying to head home to TLC or onward to Hitani or to the Dakokatan homeworld. The world her grandparents had abandoned. In addition to the tests she’d run on the three brothers, she’d checked her own DNA and tracked the changes wrought by Rakanasmara. In the process she’d identified the relationship of her Dakokatan ancestors, but still knew nothing else about them. Least of all why they’d left Dakokata or how she in turn had come to be abandoned at a Confederacy orphanage years later.
She stepped out into the room. Off to the left three men sat together, deep in conversation. She’d found Judan in the last place she’d thought to look.
On cue Judan’s head snapped up. In the dim light, his laser green eyes drew her to him like a signal flare. Her blood stirred and heated, responding without a nanosecond of resistance. She smoothed her hands against her rumpled pant legs, aware of the growing ache in her breasts and the moisture gathering in her pussy.
Her body’s betrayal was a supreme irony. If the tests she’d just conducted had taught her anything, it was that Rakanasmara could not be easily ignored. Yet, when they’d met here this afternoon, she’d definitely shut the imaginary door in Judan’s face. And tried to ignore the impact Rakanasmara was having on her and on her relationship with him, despite the revelation connecting it to her unknown ancestry.
The not-so-simple truth of the matter was, she’d grabbed hold of whatever excuse she could to back away. She’d survived a childhood filled with intangibles and uncontrollables and she’d vowed to never allow that kind of chaos in her life again. Once she’d earned a scholarship to university, she’d remained totally focused on her studies, on her work and on science. In her lab she controlled destiny and transformed intangibles into concrete results.
She glanced at the sky again. Someone out there was having a good laugh at her expense, because whether she liked it or not, Rakanasmara was changing her life. While she’d run the tests and double-checked the results, she’d had time to come to terms with that reality and make some decisions.
No more backing away or slamming doors. She’d never been much good at fooling herself. The moment she’d gone to Judan’s room two nights ago and stayed, she’d accepted that something was happening between them even if she hadn’t been able to put a name to it yet. It was downright impossible to fool the scientist within her. Tests had proven her Dakokatan ancestry. She straightened her shoulders and kept walking towards the men.
Judan stood up, silent except for the question blazing in his eyes. Biali regarded her with a keen, thoughtful gaze. He’s waiting for an answer too, she thought, then realized how idiotic that was. Of course he was waiting, as were Chiara and Hylla, wherever they were. No one would sleep tonight until she’d announced her findings. Vand had his back to her, but as soon as he heard the door swish closed, he twirled around in his chair to face her. His own green eyes, so like Judan’s, flared with barely suppressed excitement.
“Is it the Rakanasmara?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, relieved that in his rash enthusiasm he hadn’t asked her whether or not she could save the Outposters.
“What did you find?” Judan asked, his voice deep and calm.
She admired his composure, even if it was just an act. She was no longer sure where she stood with him. Did he still want her? She hoped so, at least physically, since she was about to proposition the man for all the wrong reasons.
“More than our hair changes during Rakanasmara,” she said.
“I know,” Judan said.
In fact, since Rakanasmara had been triggered, their DNA had undergone a metamorphosis. Was continuing to create a uniquely compatible signature. Would continue to mutate until the final phase of Rakanasmara was completed. And that was the good news.
“What about the Outposters?” Vand asked.
Reluctantly, Myrina shifted her gaze to the younger man. She rubbed her hand against her pant legs again. She was used to presenting her findings to a group, but this time was different. For one thing, her objectivity was shot to hell. For another, she didn’t like having her personal life exposed under a microscope. She’d much rather say what she had to say to Judan without an audience.
She’d much rather not have to say anything at all.
“Hitani doesn’t just sustain its indigenous life forms,” she said. “It actively nurtures them. Because the Outposters are all single, their reproductive ability is dormant, hence the planet’s hostile reaction.”
Vand’s chair squeaked under him. “They’ll remain dormant until Rakanasmara occurs.”
She nodded.
“What do we do?” Biali asked in the silence that followed.
Myrina glanced at Judan. She knew that he, like the other two men, was struggling with the problem of finding seventy-seven as yet unknown life partners for the stranded Outposters. Impossible. Unless he accepted her alternate solution.
“I think I can simulate the genetic mutations that are activated during Rakanasmara. A partial test scenario I ran strongly suggests the planet will back off its attack if it believes the Outposters are experiencing Rakanasmara and entering a fertility cycle.”
“And they’d be able to leave Hitani safely?” Judan asked.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m fairly certain they’d be safe, once the simulated genetic code begins to mutate.”
Tell him, you coward. Just tell him and get it over with.
“What do mean you’re fairly certain?” Vand asked. “We’ll be arriving at Hitani tomorrow. Didn’t you complete the test program?”
Well crap. Now you have to tell him. Straight out. Just say what you have to say and… “We need to complete the final Rakanasmara ritual before I can run the full test,” she told Judan, while studiously avoiding the incredulous looks on the other two men’s faces.
Without being asked, Biali dragged Vand toward the elevator, leaving her alone with Judan. He turned away from her as soon as the men disappeared behind the elevator doors.
“You call it a simulation.” His voice carried no warmth. It was as cold and clinical as her explanation had been. “What happens to the Outposters once they’ve left Hitani. Will they be denied a true Rakanasmara?”
“No,” she said. “The simulation will last for approximately seventy-two hours to allow their bodies to adjust to the mutations and begin self-healing. After that the effects should wear off with no aftermath.”
He turned back to face her. “Over a millennium of Dakokatan tradition is nothing more than the reaction of a few pheromones and hormones that can be turned on and off. Is that what you’re saying, Doctor?”
From his tone, he undoubtedly saw her as a cold-blooded alien. His facial features were stark and unyielding with none of the softness towards her she’d detected this past day. Even his hair was reluctant to seek her out. Several strands hovered between them, but didn’t make contact. So, she’d lost him, now. Not that she’d ever believed she’d really had him.
She probably deserved the contempt ringing in his voice, too. She should just take it and keep her mouth shut. Except there were seventy-seven lives at stake. And, once the Rakanasmara was complete, she and Judan would be the only two people immune to Hitani’s defenses. The only two who could safely go down to the planet’s surface and administer the antidote to the Outposters.
“Look,” she said. “I didn’t ask for this solution.” Hadn’t wanted to discover just how complicated her life had become in a short forty-eight hours.
“The solution where we have to fuck
each other so our DNA will finish its mutation and you can complete the test scenario. Is that the solution you mean?” he growled. “Or did I misunderstand what you said earlier?”
“No,” she said, looking him right in the eye. “You didn’t misunderstand.”
She wasn’t even shocked he’d used the word fuck. He’d undoubtedly consulted a dictionary and would claim he was using the term correctly. And he’d be right. This wasn’t about wanting each other or needing love. Bottom line, they had to fuck each other to save seventy-seven other people.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Congratulations, Doctor. You’ve managed to reduce what’s happening between us down to the level of a science experiment. Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
He gripped her arm gently enough, but she didn’t even try to resist when he walked them to the elevator. He was eight inches taller, quite a few kilos heavier and furious. What’s more, he’d managed to make her job and what they now had to do sound sleazy. And while she could, justifiably, protest the former, she couldn’t argue the latter assessment.
“To your quarters, where do you think?”
“My quarters?” She pulled out of his grasp as the elevator door opened. “Now just a damn minute.”
“Get in, Doctor.”
She got in. “Cut the Doctor crap, Judan. If we’re going to fuck we should at least be on a first name basis, don’t you think?”
No response. Which made her even madder.
“Why my quarters. Why didn’t we just do it on the observation deck and get it over with?”
If he wanted sleazy, she’d give him anywhere except a bedroom. Of course, under the right circumstances and with the right person, the observation deck would be a wildly romantic place to make love. But then, since he didn’t understand the word love, he obviously didn’t qualify as Mr. Right. The elevator doors slid open and he marched her down the hall.
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