Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ines
The cafeteria is packed.
This is day two of my tours of the Minecorp operation on Timbur. We started in the actual mines again this morning, spending time with the fever brothers again. That was really eye opening, watching them actually mine the Illibrium.
And now we’re all hungry and filling up the cafeteria.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, Jana warned me that the midday rush can be intense, but I’m still not prepared for the sheer volume of massive Xylan bodies crammed into this space.
The noise is incredible. Hundreds of miners and Minecorp employees talking and laughing, the clatter of trays and utensils.
The smell of food is yet again amazing though.
Rich and savory, nothing like the bland protein packs I expected from a mining operation.
They really are lucky to have such an excellent chef creating their menus and running this operation. Lunch is going to be delicious.
Texon walks beside me. He’s still my shadow and I’ve learned that his default expression is dour.
It’s charming, really. In an infuriating sort of way.
I’m not sure when this happened, but I find I enjoy his company.
This whole mission on Timbur is turning into one of the best work projects of my life.
I’d almost call this a vacation rather than actual work.
In my room at night, I’ve already started writing the actual article, getting all my notes together and trying to get everything down before I forget what my notes meant.
I’m not allowed to make any audio or visual recordings so it’s important I get my impressions down fast.
I’ve enjoyed getting to know my interview subjects, the women who have all married fever brothers and then chose to relocate to this mining planet. But my favorite person on the planet turns out to be the sexy Xylan assigned as my stern bodyguard.
We join the line, and I crane my neck to see the food options. Jana’s outdone herself. There’s actual fresh vegetables, some kind of roasted meat that smells incredible.
“Trunk!” A Xylan miner waves from several places back in the line. He’s wearing the same work uniform as Texon, covered in the pale dust of the mine.
Texon grunts. “Vektor.”
“Got a question about the level twelve rotation. Chief said to ask you.”
Texon glances at me, clearly torn between his self-appointed duty as my guard and whatever mining business this is.
“Go,” I say, waving him off. “I’m in a cafeteria line. I think I can manage not to die for thirty seconds.”
He narrows his eyes at me but steps out of line, moving back toward the other miner. I watch him go, admiring the breadth of his shoulders and his perfect ass before I catch myself and turn back around.
Get a grip, Ines.
“You must be the journalist.”
I turn to find a Xylan male standing beside me. He’s older than Texon, with a polished look that seems out of place among the dusty miners. His uniform is cleaner, his posture more refined. He smiles, and it’s warm. Friendly.
“Word travels fast,” I say.
“On Timbur? Always.” He chuckles. “I’m Kryzon. I work in mine administration.”
“Ines Vieira.” I accept the gloved hand he offers and shake it. “Singapore News Network. Well, formerly. I’m freelance now.”
“Ah, an independent. Brave.” His eyes crinkle with what looks like genuine admiration. “I’ve heard you’re investigating the Fever Brothers’ situation. The family’s history with Minecorp.”
“Among other things.” I keep my voice neutral. Friendly but professional. “Do you know the family?”
“Everyone knows the Fever Brothers. They’re quite famous on Timbur. Their parents’ death was a tragedy.”
“The cargo accident,” I say, watching him carefully.
“Yes. Terrible business.” He shakes his head slowly. “The family has never recovered, I think. And then Daxon’s disgrace, the demotion of the remaining brothers... It’s been hard on them. They’re good miners. Good males. They deserve better than the hand they’ve been dealt.”
The line moves forward. I take a step, and he moves with me, still talking.
“If you need any information about the mine’s official records, I might be able to help. Administration has access to files that aren’t publicly available.” He tilts his head. “Personnel records. Incident reports. That sort of thing.”
My journalist instincts perk up. “That’s... very generous.”
“I believe in transparency.” He smiles again. “And I believe the truth should come out. Whatever it is.”
I smile back, already internally deciding to dismiss him. If he thinks their parents died in the cargo accident, which is the fake story given to cover up what actually happened, then he is part of the problem, not part of the solution.
“Ines.” Texon’s voice cuts through the cafeteria noise. He’s back, standing right behind me, and his expression has shifted from to something colder. Harder.
“Trunk.” Kryzon’s smile doesn’t waver. “Good to see you.”
Texon says nothing. Just stares.
The silence stretches. Awkward.
“Well.” Kryzon takes a smooth step back. “I won’t keep you from your meal. Ines, it was a pleasure meeting you. If you need those records, you know where to find me.”
He walks away, disappearing into the crowd of miners.
I turn to Texon. “He seemed nice.”
His jaw tightens. “He’s not.”
I wait for more, but nothing comes. Of course. Getting information out of this male is like mining Illibrium with a spoon. “Do you want to tell me why you’re glaring at the spot where he was standing?”
“No.”
“Fantastic. This is a great working relationship we have. He offered to give me access to records about what happened to your parents.”
He grunts and steps forward as the line moves. “Do not fall into his trap. I will not be taking you anywhere near that Xylan while you are on Timbur.”
“But…”
He looks down at me with harsh features. “You will do as I order. Kryzon is off-limits. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
He grunts and moves forward in line. I follow and start ordering my food.
After lunch we leave for my interview with Naomi and Leah.
The walk from the mine to employee housing takes us through a winding path bordered by dense jungle.
The air is warm and humid, thick with unfamiliar scents.
Massive purple leaves brush against my shoulders as we pass.
Somewhere overhead, something calls out in a trilling song I don’t recognize.
I’m aware of Texon beside me with every step.
I steal a glance at his profile. The strong jaw and those fascinating ridges on his forehead. His dark braids that fall over his shoulders and down his back.
I look away before he catches me staring.
I wouldn’t mind going on an actual date with this male.
The thought arrives uninvited and I almost stumble on a paver.
Where did that come from? I’m here to investigate a cold case.
I’m here to write two articles that will hopefully take my career to the next level.
I am not here to develop feelings for a seven-foot-tall alien miner who has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t trust me.
And yet.
I really enjoyed his company again today. I feel like I really know him now that I’ve seen where he works, and his relationship with the Illibrium and his own personal crystal.
I’m in awe of this male.
The problem is that Xylan don’t date. I know this from my research. It’s all or nothing with them. You’re either their mate for life, or you’re just friends. There’s no casual dinner, no getting-to-know-you drinks, no slow progression from interest to relationship. No “let’s see where this goes.”
If I wanted to know whether there was something between us, I’d have to participate in a formal hand-clasping ceremony. Bare skin to bare skin. And then either nothing would happen... or everything would. Forever.
I glance down at my green gloves. The thin fabric the technician handed me at intake. Wear these at all times when interacting with unmated Xylan males. Prevents complications.
Texon wears the same gloves. His are stretched tight over his massive hands, the claws poking through the fitted fingertips.
I force my mind back to the case. Jana’s story about how Heavy’s memory wiped was fascinating, finding a note on her pillow that he didn’t write.
This definitely has to tie into how their parents murdered and their oldest brother Daxon was framed and banished.
Two incidents Minecorp called “random” or “coincidence.”
Three, if you count the parents.
Someone is targeting this family. The pattern is too clear to ignore. And that guy I met, Kryzon was odd too.
“Employee housing is just ahead,” Texon says, breaking the silence.
I look up and see the tall building through the trees. It’s a few stories tall, a modern structure very similar to the buildings in Singapore and pictures I’ve seen of other cities.
“Chief and Naomi live here?” I ask.
“No. They live at the compound with the rest of us.” Trunk guides me through the front door and into an elevator.
He touches the pad and takes up to the third floor.
“But Naomi turned the quarters originally offered to her into her art studio. She works here during the day while Chief is at the mine. Then they go home together.”
He says it simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She works, he works, they go home together. To the noisy, chaotic compound full of brothers, brides and children.
Again, I feel a hint of jealously at the life they lead. I used to live with a big family too, but now I live alone, without even a pet and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve been too involved with my work to even allow for actual living.
Trunk knocks on a door at the end of a short hallway.
It opens almost immediately, and warm eyes greets us with a genuine smile. “Please, come in.”