16. Kaelus #2
To illustrate his point, he accessed the encrypted data Commander Sylvan had given him before the mission and projected the Glenvarren viral profiles beside the Titus Four samples.
But once they were up, he simply stared. The levels of viral contagion in the samples were almost identical. In fact, in several cases, the Titus Four males actually carried more virus in their blood than the infected males on Glenvarren.
“This makes no sense,” he muttered. “How can this be?”
Sendar gave him a curious look.
“What doesn’t make sense?”
Kaelus turned to him.
“You told us your males carry the same virus but experience none of the savage behavioral effects.”
Sendar nodded.
“That is correct. So what is the problem?”
“The problem is, I expected to find reduced viral replication or evidence of partial immunity,” Kaelus explained.
“But?” The other male raised his copper-colored eyebrows.
Kaelus shook his head.
“There is neither.”
He pulled up another sample…then another and another and another. The same pattern appeared every time.
Kaelus stared at the samples in disbelief.
“The virus is replicating normally. Your males are not immune to it at all!” he exclaimed.
Sendar shrugged.
“We have known for generations that the Love Virus remains present in the body of every male who lives on Titus Four.”
“That is not what I mean.” Kaelus felt a growl of frustration rise in his throat and swallowed it down with difficulty. He pointed at the figures.
“Look at these androgen receptors. Look at the viral proteins associated with neuroendocrine disruption. They are almost identical to what we see in Glenvarren samples.”
Sendar nodded.
“And yet our men are not savage.”
“Exactly.” Kaelus sat back. “So the difference is not infection.”
Sendar’s expression changed almost imperceptibly. Kaelus noticed.
“What?” he asked.
The other male shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“You reacted,” Kaelus said.
Sendar shrugged.
“I merely find your certainty interesting.”
“My certainty is based on the data,” Kaelus growled.
Sendar folded his arms.
“The conventional theory is that our strain evolved over time into a more benign form.”
Kaelus frowned.
“Then the viral genome should show substantial changes in the sequences responsible for receptor binding,” he pointed out.
“It has changed,” Sendar assured him.
“How much?” Kaelus demanded.
Sendar hesitated.
“Marginally.”
Kaelus stared at him. Why was he being so evasive?
“How marginally?”
“Less than one percent in the major expression sequences,” Sendar admitted at last.
Kaelus bit back a curse.
“That is not enough to explain this!” he exclaimed, pointing at the samples.
“You cannot know that,” Sendar said coolly.
“No. But I can damn well determine it,” Kaelus growled.
He began overlaying the viral proteins from both populations. The structures aligned almost perfectly. There were differences, certainly, but none appeared significant enough to explain why one group of males raped and killed females while the other group treated them like sacred beings.
Despite his frustration, Kaelus felt the first stirrings of excitement. This was the mystery. Not why Titus Four males didn’t contract the virus, but why they could carry massive quantities of it without becoming violent.
He expanded the blood chemistry panels and began comparing compounds. Most were predictable. Electrolytes…proteins…hormones…metabolic byproducts.
Then something caught his eye.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing.
Sendar leaned closer.
“What is what?”
Kaelus highlighted a tiny molecular structure which appeared in every one of the Titus Four samples.
“This compound—right here.”
Sendar frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“Is it some kind of dietary supplement?” Kaelus asked.
The other male shrugged.
“Possibly.”
Kaelus frowned. He searched the local chemical index—no match.
He pulled up the Glenvarren samples but again, the compound was absent.
He checked five more Titus Four males and found the compound present in them.
Then he checked another ten—also present.
Every single one of the Titus Four samples carried it… whatever it was.
Kaelus sat back slowly.
“That is interesting,” he murmured.
Sendar’s mouth tightened.
“It is probably some local dietary metabolite,” he said, shrugging again.
“Perhaps.” Kaelus enlarged the structure. “But it appears in every male sample from Titus Four at remarkably similar concentrations.”
“Most of us eat similar foods,” Sendar said.
Kaelus frowned.
“No population eats so identically that an incidental dietary metabolite remains this consistent.”
Sendar gave him a look he couldn’t interpret.
“You are making rather a lot of assumptions based on a single unidentified compound, don’t you think, Doctor Kaelus.”
“No, but I do think you are dismissing my findings remarkably quickly,” Kaelus growled.
Their eyes locked and for several seconds neither spoke…then Sendar’s lips twitched up in a condescending smile.
“Forgive me,” he said smoothly. “I am not accustomed to researchers arriving here and becoming overly excited about minor biochemical differences.”
“I am not overly excited,” Kaelus told him. “This is a significant finding.”
Sendar shrugged.
“As you wish.”
His nonchalant attitude when they were supposed to be working to save lives irritated Kaelus so much he wished he could punch the other male. But that would be neither professional nor productive. Instead he asked through clenched teeth,
“Can I copy the molecular signature?”
Sendar nodded.
“Certainly. That level of data is permitted under your temporary access.”
“Good,” Kaelus said shortly.
He transferred the compound profile to his personal data slate.
He was already thinking of Clair. If the compound came from a local plant, there was a good chance she might recognize part of the structure after spending the day with Maera.
The thought of showing it to her caused an unexpected warmth in his chest.
He tried to push the feeling away—he was working now. But it was difficult—even when he was away from her, his curvy lab partner was a distraction.
“I would also like historical male samples,” he said, forcing himself to concentrate. “Preferably from before the Love Virus became behaviorally benign.”
Sendar’s expression closed.
“That will not be possible, I am afraid,” he said blandly.
“What? But why not?” Kaelus demanded.
“Those sections of the Archive are restricted,” Sendar told him.
Kaelus frowned.
“Varell told us we would have limited access.”
“And so you do.” Sendar spread his hands, indicating all the samples around them.,
“Then grant me access to whatever historical profiles fall within those limits,” Kaelus demanded.
Sendar gave him a sorrowful look that Kaelus didn’t trust for a minute.
“I’m so sorry…there are none from the period you are requesting.”
Kaelus clenched his jaw in frustration.
“You just told me the Archive contains samples more than two thousand years old.”
“And so it does,” Sendar agreed calmly.
“So when did the violent expression of the virus disappear?” Kaelus asked.
Sendar looked thoughtful.
“Approximately nine hundred years ago, I believe.”
“Then I want samples from a thousand years ago,” Kaelus said.
The other male shook his head.
“They are restricted.”
Kaelus felt his irritation rising.
“Why?”
“Because those were unstable years,” Sendar said. “The records include culturally sensitive material. I cannot release them to you.”
“Women are dying on Glenvarren,” Kaelus reminded him again.
“I am aware.” Sendar sounded almost bored. “And your point is?”
“That I do not particularly care whether your ancestors would be embarrassed by their medical records,” Kaelus growled.
Sendar’s expression chilled.
“This is not your world, Doctor Kaelus.”
“No. But it’s the same virus.”
They glared at each other again. At last, Sendar sighed.
“You truly are as stubborn as Varell said.”
“I prefer the word thorough,” Kaelus said.
“Come. There is something I can show you, though not the samples themselves.”
He rose and Kaelus followed reluctantly.
Sendar led him through another opening in the crystalline wall and down a narrow corridor that looked markedly older than the rest of the Archive.
The smooth crystal gradually gave way to dark gray stone, and the glowing vines of light embedded in the walls became fewer and farther apart.
“Where are we going?” Kaelus asked at last.
“To the old containment section,” Sendar said.
Kaelus looked at him sharply.
“Containment?”
Sendar nodded.
“Indeed. Before the Love Virus became what it is today, infected males sometimes became dangerous.”
“You mean savage,” Kaelus said—this confirmed his suspicion.
Sendar’s jaw tightened.
“That is the word outsiders prefer.”
“It seems accurate,” Kaelus pointed out.
The other male said nothing and finally, the corridor ended at a heavy metal door.
Unlike every other entrance Kaelus had seen on Titus Four, this one did not dissolve or slide gracefully aside.
Sendar had to place his hand on an ancient mechanical plate and pull a lever.
As he did, the door opened with a groan.
The room beyond was cold and dark. Kaelus stepped inside and saw that rows of large restraint chairs stood along two walls. They were enormous—clearly designed for powerful males—and made from heavy black metal bolted directly into the stone floor.
Thick cuffs were attached at the arms and legs of the chairs, with additional restraints that would go across the thighs, waist, chest, and throat of the male sitting there.
Several chairs had old medical apparatus hanging above them, including needle arrays, intravenous lines, and scanning equipment so outdated Kaelus barely recognized its purpose.
An unpleasant chill went through him.
“What happened here?” he asked, his voice coming out hoarse. “What was done to the people who were strapped to those chairs?”
Sendar shrugged.