16. Kaelus
KAELUS
Kaelus followed Sendar away from Varell and Maera’s home, trying very hard not to think about the fact that he could still smell Clair on himself.
Her sweet feminine scent clung to his hands and his clothing, and he could still feel the softness of her full breasts against his lips and the heat of her body when he had knelt between her thighs to perform the ridiculous—and incredibly arousing—Kiss of Parting.
Even now, his cock was still half-hard from the experience and his mouth practically watered when he remembered the scent of her desire rising through the thin fabric of her dress.
He had almost lost control back there. If they had been alone, he wasn’t certain he would have been able to stop himself from lifting the skirt of that metallic blue gown and burying his face between her soft thighs as he had been fantasizing about doing since the night before.
Which is exactly why you need to get yourself under control, he reminded himself sternly. She is your coworker—not your mate. None of this is real.
Unfortunately, the dark silver band wrapped around his upper arm—the one Clair had personally fastened there to show that he was “cherished and claimed by the woman who owned him”—felt very real indeed.
“You seem distracted, Doctor Kaelus.”
Sendar’s voice broke into his thoughts and Kaelus realized the other male was watching him with an amused expression.
“I am considering our research,” Kaelus said stiffly.
“Of course you are.” Sendar’s lips curved into a smile. “Though I suspect your thoughts may still be with your lovely goddess.”
Kaelus frowned.
“My wife is not your concern.”
Sendar raised both hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture.
“No offense intended. I merely observed that the two of you appeared reluctant to part.”
Kaelus said nothing. There was something about the copper-haired male he disliked more every time he spoke with him, though he still couldn’t have said exactly what it was.
Perhaps it was simply that Sendar watched Clair too closely.
Or perhaps it was the faintly mocking quality he sometimes heard when the other male spoke of the customs everyone else on Titus Four seemed to regard with complete sincerity.
Whatever the reason, Kaelus didn’t trust him.
A driverless, automatic transport carried them away from Varell’s home and into the center of the Titus Four settlement. This early in the day, the pale stone streets were filled with people beginning their daily routines.
Kaelus saw males walking beside their wives, carrying bags and packages, holding hands, kissing, laughing, and generally behaving as though the females beside them were the center of their universes.
Yesterday he had found such behavior excessive and almost performative.
Today it bothered him considerably less.
In fact, when he saw one male carrying three bags while his wife walked beside him with nothing heavier than a flower in her hand, Kaelus thought about the number of times Clair had struggled into the lab carrying armfuls of samples, equipment, and data tablets while he remained stubbornly on his side of the black line.
Perhaps he had been an ass.
The thought was uncomfortable enough that he immediately pushed it away, but it lingered on the edges of his mind, and he promised himself she wouldn’t have to carry anything heavy again as long as he was near her.
The Blood Archive stood near the center of the city, though it looked nothing like the scientific facility Kaelus had expected.
The enormous structure seemed to have been carved directly into the side of a low silver mountain.
Its entrance was framed by two massive crystal columns which twisted upward like frozen vines, and the rock surrounding them shimmered with veins of violet light.
There were no visible doors. Instead, when Sendar approached, he placed his palm against a smooth black oval embedded in the stone and spoke several words in his own language.
To Kaelus’s surprise, the mountainside opened—an entrance appearing seamlessly in the black stone.
Kaelus raised an eyebrow.
“Impressive.”
Sendar smiled.
“We take the preservation of our biological history quite seriously.”
They stepped through the opening and Kaelus found himself looking down into an enormous cylindrical chamber which disappeared so far beneath the ground that he couldn’t see the bottom.
Rings of transparent walkways spiraled around its interior walls, while thousands upon thousands of crystalline spheres floated in the open air between them.
Some were no bigger than Kaelus’s thumb and others were as large as his fist. Each contained a tiny, suspended drop of blood or tissue which glowed in shades of violet, blue, green, or crimson, while delicate threads of light connected certain spheres to others, creating glowing family trees which stretched through the air in every direction.
Kaelus stopped.
“Gods,” he murmured. It really was an impressive and amazing sight.
“Every citizen of Titus Four is entered into the Archive at birth,” Sendar explained.
“Blood, tissue, genetic markers, immune profiles, viral status, major medical events, mating history, and reproductive records are preserved here. Most individuals submit updated samples every ten years. Some family lines can be traced back more than two thousand years.”
As they stepped onto a platform, a translucent disk of light formed beneath their feet and carried them silently out into the vast chamber.
The floating spheres shifted aside to make room for them, then drifted back into place.
Kaelus watched one pass within inches of his face and saw tiny symbols moving around the suspended drop inside like microscopic stars.
“This is not merely a database,” he said. “It is a bank. All these samples are perfectly preserved.”
“Exactly. All samples, no matter how old, remain viable.” Sendar sounded proud.
“Our preservation fields hold biological material in a state of temporal suspension. It neither ages nor degrades. In theory, I could give you blood from a male who died a thousand years ago, and it would be chemically identical to the day it was collected.”
Kaelus’s interest sharpened.
“That could be extremely useful.”
Sendar nodded.
“I thought you might appreciate it.”
The glowing platform carried them downward for several levels before depositing them on a wide crystalline walkway. As soon as they stepped off, hundreds of floating spheres moved aside, and a doorway formed in the wall.
“This way.” Sendar nodded and led Kaelus to a laboratory that was unlike anything he had ever worked in.
There were no conventional analyzers or specimen trays.
Instead, the entire room appeared to be one massive piece of translucent crystal with work surfaces grown directly out of the floor.
When Sendar waved a hand over one of them, the crystalline surface softened and flowed upward into the shape of two chairs and a broad table.
Holographic displays blossomed above it, surrounded by rotating molecular diagrams.
Kaelus couldn’t help being impressed but it was time to get down to work.
“I would like to begin with current male samples,” he said. “Adult males known to carry the Love Virus without behavioral symptoms.”
“That would include nearly every adult male on Titus Four,” Sendar said blandly.
Kaelus nodded.
“Good. Then we have a considerable sample size.”
Sendar laughed softly.
“You are certainly direct.”
Kaelus frowned at him.
“Women are dying. We do not have time to waste.”
The other male nodded.
“Of course. For above all, female life must be preserved.”
Kaelus gave him a look—he couldn’t tell if the other male was being sarcastic or not.
It had been his observation that the males of Titus Four felt the same way about women as the Kindred—that was, that they were to be cherished and protected.
But there was something in Sendar’s tone that made him wonder how the other male really felt.
“Yes, female life is sacred,” he said, his frown deepening. “For, as we Kindred believe, every woman has a little piece of the Goddess in her.”
“I’m certain they do,” Sendar said blandly. He placed two fingers against the crystalline table. “Archive, retrieve twenty-five adult male profiles between thirty and sixty cycles of age. Confirmed Love Virus positive. No significant chronic illness. No current medication.”
The room hummed. A moment later, twenty-five small crystalline spheres drifted through the wall and arranged themselves in a circle above the work surface. Kaelus leaned forward.
“May I access the biochemical profiles directly?”
Sendar made a sweeping gesture with one hand.
“Certainly. Please be my guest.”
He touched the first sphere lightly. Instantly an enormous display appeared in front of him—genetic data, hormone levels, immune markers, neurotransmitter profiles, viral counts, blood chemistry, and thousands of other measurements.
Kaelus began working. Within minutes, the rest of the room disappeared from his awareness.
This was familiar territory—molecules and biochemistry made sense.
Unlike a certain lab partner who called him “sugar-booger” and made him want to abandon every sensible decision he had ever made, chemical compounds behaved according to recognizable laws.
He pulled up the viral counts from the first male. Then the second. Then the fifth. His frown deepened as he compared them.
“This cannot be right.”
Sendar looked over his shoulder.
“What?”
Kaelus enlarged the viral measurements and pointed.
“These titers are extremely high.”
Sendar shrugged.
“Yes. And?”
“How high are the viral loads in your symptomatic patients?” Kaelus demanded.
Sendar frowned.
“We do not have symptomatic patients.”
“You misunderstand me. I am comparing these measurements with the samples we brought from Glenvarren,” Kaelus said.