Chapter 25
GAbrIEL
The looks on my parents’ faces when Blue and I walk into the living room are ones of genuine surprise, even a little confusion.
But they both greet Blue politely and invite him to the holiday table, where all my brothers are already seated.
Everything is decorated for the holidays, the tree beautifully dressed. The familiar atmosphere from my childhood remains unchanged, but… there’s something else in the air too, a single, underlying tension.
Marlow is here as well, of course. When he sees us, he stands and gives Blue a polite bow. That’s when I notice how pale his face is, unhealthy, with dark circles under his eyes like something is eating him from the inside. He’s wearing a fluffy white sweater patterned with brown cats.
Next to him sits our half-brother, Dallas, who is a beta. He wears thick glasses, and his hair is carrot-orange, falling in messy curls over his forehead and freckled cheeks. Dallas is older than Marlow and me, at twenty-six.
He works at a college as a junior lecturer and is finishing his doctorate.
I notice that at the sight of Blue, his brows knit slightly, and he greets him only minimally, not offering a handshake, because of course I warned everyone that Blue doesn’t do that.
At the end of the table sits my oldest brother, Denver, together with his husband Gus.
Denver and Dallas are both my father’s children from his first, strange and turbulent marriage and have a huge age gap between them, a full twenty years. Their dad died during Dallas’s childbirth due to severe internal bleeding.
A few months later, during his police work, my father helped my dad and his brother, who had fled Russia as illegal immigrants and had troubles with the law.
He saved them from deportation, and they soon realized my dad and my father were High Mates.
My dad was a very family-oriented omega, and he helped my father raise the barely few-months-old Dallas.
Two years later, he became pregnant himself, and Marlow was born, and another two years after that, me.
My dad’s brother, Zosim, also married another policeman and lives not that far from my parents with his six kids.
While I have a good relationship with Dallas, I barely know Denver. He wasn’t even living at home when I was born. He’d already graduated and was working.
His husband, Gus, sits beside him with a gloomy expression. He’s a college professor. After a serious accident a few years ago, he now uses a wheelchair. They don’t have children, and both are rather quiet people, so they react to Blue in a reserved way, offering little more than polite nods.
My parents invite us to the table, the food is served, and general chatting begins.
The discussion desperately avoids the subject of my strange arrangement with Blue. Not a single question even brushes against it, which is almost strange, because I know my dad and how inquisitive he can be.
Occasionally, the conversations drift toward current world events.
At one point, my father brings up the latest developments on the front against NFH, complaining that not enough progress is being made, that more and more people are falling victim, and that the massacres are taking place across the entire Southern Hemisphere, turning into real purges.
Blue listens politely, then after a moment says that this might change soon, because there are rumors the military have now an innovative method of tracking combatants.
The conversation quickly shifts to lighter topics. My dad asks Blue about his education. As Blue lists a long string of majors and doctorates, everyone’s jaws drop except… my brother Dallas, who watches him with a sour expression.
At one point, he speaks up.
"Axel Lowen is your nephew, right?"
"Yes," Blue says. "Do you know him?"
Dallas grimaces slightly.
"I wouldn’t call it ‘knowing.’"
Blue narrows his eyes a little.
"Bad blood?"
Dallas lets out a mocking snort.
"I’m ranked third in the state chess championships, and he’s second, so you could say we’re rivals."
"Oh, I see. A sports rivalry."
"Not just that. Axel works at the same college as me, in a different department, but… we’re not friends. Absolutely not."
"Dallas, what’s with the sour tone?" I say mockingly. "Did you two fall out over him taking your queen?"
Dallas grimaces. "Not that I’m petty, but I’ve always thought he has more luck than brains. It’s not about skill. Axel… in my opinion, he’s very inconsistent."
"Then perhaps you should try beating him, if you think he doesn’t deserve that ranking," Blue says calmly, cocking his head slightly and fixing him with a challenging look.
"I definitely will, at the next state championship," Dallas bares his teeth.
"I won’t wish you luck, since Axel is my nephew, but I trust the match will be fair and the best player will win, as it should," Blue adds, responding with a faint smile.
All this time, Marlow keeps staring at his plate, while Denver may be observing us but remains silent as well, and his husband Gus watches us with the same somber expression. Those two are a real mystery to me. How do they even communicate with so little interaction?
The rest of the dinner goes relatively smoothly, but the conversation drifts back to politics. At one point, it touches on recent events in Beta Activation facilities.
Dallas has a lot of negative things to say about the entire program. Well, as a beta, he’s probably a more obvious candidate to criticize a program where scientists aim to awaken beta fertility.
Blue responds surprisingly diplomatically, emphasizing that the program involves only volunteers.
Dallas, stubborn as ever, continues, "There were some strange things happening in one of your facilities. There were rumors that betas were forced into some really nightmarish agreements, not exactly consensual."
Blue’s expression doesn’t change.
"That matter has already been clarified publicly. The official statement is available on the facility’s website. Any actions that did not align with the program’s policies—"
"Apparently your safeguards had holes, if violations occurred."
Blue makes a small adjusting movement of his head, and I can clearly sense a flicker of irritation in him.
"I’d wish to have control over every stage of this program and the actions of every employee, but you have to keep in mind that I am not its owner. I'm only its chief appointed expert and the architect of the concept."
Dallas purses his lips. "Only… maybe it simply needs more oversight or redesigning," he mutters. "Or closing altogether."
Blue narrows his eyes. "Let me give you an example. About two years ago, there was a scandal at your college involving a professor, Gorgone, who was taking money to write students’ master’s theses, correct?
Does that reflect on the chancellor himself?
The professor was dismissed, and I did the same.
The warden of that BA facility is currently in prison.
A system is made up of people, and people are imperfect.
One bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch.
And what happened with Gorgone surely does not reflect badly on other people associated with your college, would you agree? "
The last sentence is said with a subtle emphasis.
Dallas gapes.
A brief silence falls over the table, because Professor Gorgone was also my brother’s advisor, and although my brother didn’t pay for his thesis, many of his peers suspected him anyway, so the topic is… sensitive.
Personally, I’m a little shocked that Blue even knows about it, but remembering how his mind works, he must have prepared before coming here, and of course he could easily look things up in real time through the display in his glasses.
Reading up on information and gossip about my brother’s college wouldn’t be a problem for him.
I guess the sharp side of Blue is always there, ready to fire back whenever people make jabs at him…
Dallas opens his mouth, but…
"Maybe we should talk about something more pleasant," my dad says, sensing the mood. "Marlow, I heard your exam session is going really well. Your last semester is coming up soon!"
Marlow flinches as if startled that someone addressed him. His exhausted face turns toward Dad.
"There’s nothing to talk about. I just study."
"I’d like to add that—" Dallas tries to continue, but Dad raises his voice slightly, cutting him off.
"Marlow, I heard that Mr. Lowen, in his kindness, offered to help you find a job," Dad continues in a very deliberate tone, clearly signaling to Dallas that antagonizing Blue is not the best idea.
Fortunately, Marlow answers before Dallas dares to interrupt again.
"I’m really grateful for Mr. Lowen’s offer, Dad," he says, giving Blue a slight nod, "but I honestly don’t know what I’ll be doing after graduation yet."
"Nonsense, sweetheart, of course you’ll work at a veterinary clinic. What other path could you possibly take…?"
Marlow clenches his jaw. "We’ll discuss that another time, Dad. And while I appreciate Mr. Lowen’s offer, I still don’t know how everything will turn out, so let’s drop the subject for now," he mutters.
It feels like every topic we touch on turns out to be uncomfortable for someone.
Dallas, however, doesn’t seem ready to stop taking jabs at Blue.
"So. What’s it like, being a genius?"
Blue doesn’t lift his head from his plate, but he answers,
"It’s a bit like being jealous. If you can’t control it, it destroys you and eats you from the inside. If you can, you channel that energy into improving yourself and matching those you envy."
Dallas stares at him with his lips pressed together. This jab is even more obvious and, it seems, also wraps up Dallas’s situation with Axel rather smoothly.
"This is—" he starts but I have had enough.
With a well-aimed kick I hit Dallas’s ankle in a way that causes the most pain, and he hisses, bending to the side.
"What the fuck, Gabs!"