24. Clair #2
Lunch arrived on a hovering tray carrying what Maera announced with considerable enthusiasm was a traditional midday delicacy called selyth blossoms.
Clair examined them cautiously. They looked like flowers made by an artist who had been experimenting with hallucinogens, but they didn’t smell bad.
Each blossom was roughly the size of her palm and composed of six translucent violet petals wrapped around a glowing orange center.
The petals were thin enough that she could see tiny silver veins running through them, and every few seconds they curled inward slightly as though the food was somehow breathing.
The orange center appeared creamy and soft, except for several glossy blue seeds embedded in the surface like jewels.
Clair poked one and the petals folded around her fingertip. She yanked her hand back quickly. Was this the Titus Four version of Venus Fly Trap? And did she really have to eat it?
Apparently so, because Maera laughed at her startled expression and showed her how to cut the flower up and eat it.
Apparently the violet petals came from an aquatic plant that grew in the warm shallows of Titus Four’s inland lakes.
They were steamed briefly, then wrapped around a filling made from roasted golden root, whipped mirren fruit, ground silver-grain, and a soft blue fungus that tasted vaguely like mushrooms crossed with toasted almonds.
The glossy seeds were pickled and popped between the teeth with little bursts of tart, salty liquid.
Maera assured her that the flower petals grabbing her finger were just a reflex and Clair finally took a cautious bite.
The texture was strange—silky petals giving way to creamy filling, followed by the sharp pop of the seeds—but the flavor was surprisingly good.
Sweet and savory at the same time, with an earthy nuttiness underneath and a faint cooling sensation at the end.
After a few bites, Clair decided she liked it. It was weird, but in a good way. She wished she could give Kaelus a bite to see what the big Hybrid would make of it…damn it, there she went again! Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him?
They ate several blossoms along with slices of crisp green fruit and a chilled broth that changed from pale blue to pink when Clair stirred it. By the time they returned to the laboratory, she felt refreshed and ready to attack the data again.
The breakthrough came less than an hour later. Clair had begun comparing the male saliva samples against the women’s results when she noticed something odd.
“Maera, come look at this,” she said.
“What is it?”
Maera joined her at the display and Clair enlarged six male profiles.
“These men all have the active metabolite in their saliva,” she said.
Maera raised her eyebrows.
“That is expected, is it not? We already know it circulates in male blood.”
“Yes, but look at the collection notes.” Clair pointed.
Maera read them…then her expression sharpened. Each of the six men had provided two saliva samples—one early in the morning before eating or drinking and another shortly after the traditional morning greeting with his wife.
In the first samples, the active compound was present only in very low concentrations. In the second samples, the levels had jumped dramatically.
Clair’s heart began pounding. She pulled up another set—same result. And another and another and another…they were all the same. She began working faster.
“Look at this one. His baseline saliva level was almost negligible. Twelve minutes after kissing his wife, it increased sixfold,” she said excitedly.
Maera leaned closer.
“And this man increased nearly eightfold,” she said, pointing.
Clair dragged another group into the comparison.
“Every single paired sample shows the same pattern!” The laboratory suddenly felt charged with possibility. “They’re getting it through saliva,” Clair breathed. “That must be it!”
Maera’s eyes widened.
“The Kiss of Parting,” she murmured.
“The morning kisses. The evening kisses. All of it.” Clair began pacing. “It isn’t just symbolic. They’ve been dosing each other.”
“For centuries,” Maera said.
“Yes!” Clair rushed back to the analyzer. “But wait. That can’t be the whole thing.”
She began comparing concentration levels. The amount transferred through kissing was measurable, but it was small compared with the amount circulating in male blood.
She frowned.
“This explains maintenance doses. Frequent kissing could keep the metabolite circulating, especially if the compound builds up over time. But look at the concentrations.”
“They are too low,” Maera said.
“Exactly.”
Clair’s mind raced.
“The men are carrying much more active compound than simple salivary transfer seems able to account for.”
“Then there must be another route,” Maera said.
Clair thought about Titus Four tradition of “the Taming.” About older women taking young men to bed during the dangerous period when the virus first became active…about the elaborate emphasis Titus Four culture placed on sexual pleasure and intimacy.
Her cheeks warmed as she began putting the pieces together.
“It’s not just kissing that passes the metabolite,” she murmured. “It’s more than that—much more.”
Maera followed her gaze, an understanding dawned on her face.
“Oh, I see,” she murmured. “The metabolite is passed the same way the Love Virus is—what you call the Savage Syndrome—through sexual contact.”
“Exactly.” Clair nodded. Then she started laughing.
“What is it?” Maera asked, a curious smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Why is this finding so funny?”
Clair swiped at her eyes, which were watering with laughter.
“It’s just that I came halfway across the galaxy to cure a deadly neurological virus and apparently the answer might be kissing and sex.”
Maera laughed too.
“Well, there are worse medicines,” she pointed out.
Clair nodded.
“True.”
She looked back at the data and the excitement bubbling inside her suddenly became unbearable. She wanted Kaelus!
Not sexually. Well, yes, obviously sexually, but that wasn’t what she meant.
She wanted to tell him. She wanted to see his golden eyes sharpen when she showed him the numbers.
She wanted to watch him argue with her interpretation and then reluctantly admit she was right.
She wanted him beside her while they fitted another piece into the puzzle.
“I wish Kaelus was here,” she said, speaking her thought out loud before she could stop herself.
Maera laughed softly.
“You have said his name at least eleven times today.”
Clair felt her cheeks get hot.
“I have not…have I?” she asked.
The other woman nodded.
“You have. I think maybe last night’s massage brought the two of you closer than you’ve ever been before—am I right?”
Clair couldn’t deny that was true, but it was still embarrassing that she was apparently obsessed with the big Hybrid. She looked away, focusing on the data again.
Maera laughed.
“I see the longing look on your face—you don’t have to hide it. Why don’t you go tell him?”
Clair looked toward the window.
“At the Blood Archive?”
Maera shrugged.
“Certainly. It is not far, and you have been working for hours. A change of surroundings would do you good.”
Clair considered it.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she admitted.
Her hostess smiled.
“I rarely have bad ideas. Just ask Varell—I’m almost always right.”
Clair smiled.
“I’m sure you are. I’d love to go and see Kaelus and tell him our discovery—sexy times cures the Savage Syndrome.”
“We think that’s the cure—or rather, the reason the Love Virus here on Titus Four doesn’t turn into the Savage Syndrome those poor people in the Glenvarren colony are experiencing,” Maera said cautiously.
“Also, we haven’t tested yet to find out how much of the compound a woman must have in her system in order to tame a male with the virus in his blood. ”
“We can find all that out later,” Clair said. “The main thing is, we’ve cracked the case!”
“And you can’t wait to tell your darling husband.” The other woman smiled. “Come, let’s make that happen for you.”
Maera summoned an automated transport vehicle from the household system. Less than five minutes later, a sleek silver pod floated to a stop outside the house. It resembled a rounded glass bubble set inside a smooth metallic frame, with no visible steering controls at all.
Clair eyed it.
“So it drives itself completely? No steering wheel?”
Maera looked confused. “
What is a steering wheel?”
Clair shook her head.
“Never mind. If you say it’s safe, I trust it.”
The door slid upward and Clair climbed inside with her data slate clutched eagerly in one hand.
“Tell Kaelus I send my greetings,” Maera said.
“I will.” Clair nodded.
“And Clair?”
“Yes?”
Maera smiled.
“Try not to distract him too much.”
Clair laughed.
“No promises.”
The door closed and a soft voice asked for her destination.
“The Blood Archive,” Clair said.
The vehicle lifted smoothly into the lavender afternoon and Clair settled back against the seat, excitement building again as she reviewed the data on her slate.
She could already imagine Kaelus’s reaction when she showed him the paired saliva results. He would probably frown. Then he would ask twelve annoyingly precise questions. Then he would start pulling up blood concentrations and calculating transfer rates while pretending he wasn’t impressed.
Clair smiled—she didn’t care if she was being ridiculous—she couldn’t wait to see him.
Outside the transparent vehicle, the beautiful alien city swept past beneath twin suns—the silver trees, curved cream buildings, sparkling turquoise waterways, and distant violet-blue mountains glowing beneath the strange sky.
Clair never once considered the possibility that she shouldn’t be going to the Blood Archive alone.
She didn’t know that Kaelus’s decision to go there without Sendar had already changed everything.
And she had no idea that by the time she reached him, science would be the least dangerous thing waiting for her.