15. Clair #4
“No. Not yet.” Clair was already thinking through controls. “We need blood from someone who hasn’t consumed veloria recently, preferably another woman from Titus Four. Then maybe samples taken before and after ingestion. And I’d like male blood too.”
“Varell will gladly provide a sample,” Maera offered.
Clair nodded.
“Good. And I need to compare this new compound against the viral research.”
“That data would be in the Blood Archive,” Maera said. “But I’m sure we can get it.”
Clair bit her lip. The Blood Archive—where Kaelus was.
For the first time since getting absorbed in the science, Clair thought of Kaelus again. Immediately she remembered him kneeling in front of her and kissing between her thighs.
Great. Thanks, brain.
But there was something else too—Kaelus was a Xenopharmacologist—this was exactly his territory, and Clair couldn’t wait to show him.
The thought gave her a ridiculous little rush of happiness, and it occurred to her that whenever she discovered something exciting in the lab, Kaelus was the person she wanted to tell.
Even when he was being grumpy or telling her not to touch his equipment…
even when he complained that she was distracting.
Especially now that you knew what he actually means by “distracting,” whispered a naughty little voice in her brain.
Clair did her best to push that thought aside and looked back at the two molecular structures hovering in the air.
“Maera, has anyone ever connected veloria to the Love Virus?” she asked.
The other woman hesitated.
“Not scientifically, as far as I know.”
“But culturally?” Clair prodded.
Maera was quiet for several seconds.
“There are…old traditions,” she said at last.
Clair turned toward her.
“What kind of traditions?”
“Well, my grandmother used to say that a woman should always drink her veloria if she wished to keep peace in her home.”
Clair frowned.
“What did she mean by that?”
Maera shrugged.
“I assumed she meant that a healthy goddess made for a happy household.”
“Maybe.” Clair’s frown deepened. “Anything else?”
“Well…” Maera cleared her throat. “There is one other thing—but it’s considered very private and sacred. I normally wouldn’t divulge it to an outsider but…”
“But what?” Clair urged her. “Please, Maera, anything might be helpful.”
“Well, we have a ceremony called ‘the Taming,’” Maera said. “When the young men in our society become sexually mature, they get…restless.”
“Go on,” Clair said. “So what do you do?”
“An experienced older woman will ‘tame’ them—slake their sexual needs.” Maera’s cheeks were purple with what Clair assumed was a blush. “As I said, we don’t like to talk about it but it is necessary. If they are not tamed, the young men may become…difficult to handle.”
“I see.” Clair nodded thoughtfully. Things were beginning to make sense. More and more she believed that veloria nectar was connected to the puzzle she was trying to solve. She looked at the transformed molecule again.
“Did women drink veloria before the Love Virus became…well, the Love Virus?”
Maera’s expression changed to one of guarded sorrow.
“I do not know. Our historical records from our earliest years are incomplete. It was a terrible time.”
“The men were violent?” Clair guessed.
“Yes.” Maera’s voice was quieter now. “We do not speak of it often. It was before our current culture fully developed. There are records of males becoming irrational, aggressive—possessive in cruel ways rather than loving ones. Women were hurt.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Some were killed.”
Clair’s stomach tightened—it sounded exactly like Glenvarren. But there was no way to be sure if the veloria was involved since Maera didn’t know when the women of Titus Four had started drinking it.
“What changed to make the men less violent?” she asked.
Maera spread her hands.
“Everything, slowly. Medicine improved. Customs changed. Our people became what we are now.”
Clair frowned in frustration.
“That’s not an answer.”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Maera looked troubled. “To be honest, I have never thought much about why. I was taught that the virus itself changed over time.”
“That’s what everyone assumes?”
“Yes.”
Clair stared at the newly transformed molecule. A virus that supposedly changed over generations…a plant every woman on the planet consumed…a plant that produced an inactive precursor which became something entirely different inside a Titus Four woman’s body.
Maybe it was coincidence but Clair didn’t believe it was.
“I need to see the oldest records you have on veloria,” she said. “Not modern research. Traditional medicine. Agricultural histories. Women’s health records. Anything from around the time the Savage behavior started disappearing.”
Maera nodded slowly.
“I can access some of those records here.”
“Good. Thank you.” Clair looked once more at the molecular display. “I need to know exactly what this new compound does.”
She enlarged the transformed molecule until it hovered between them, glowing pale lavender in the air. Something about it mattered—she could feel it. They had come to Titus Four looking for a cure hidden in blood and viral genetics.
But Clair was beginning to wonder if the answer had been growing quietly on a vine all along.