Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Ines
The whole compound knows about us.
I blame Texon. He told Chief, who told his brothers, who told their wives, and in about twenty seconds every single being under this roof knew that he has scented me and believes we are confirmed mates.
I’m a journalist who has chased stories across New Earth for years and I have never, in my entire career, seen news spread this fast.
“Twenty seconds,” I mutter to myself as I walk through the common area on my way to the kitchen. “Twenty. Seconds.”
Lila looks up from where she’s folding laundry on the couch. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“You look tired.”
“I am tired.”
She grins. Not a sympathetic grin. A knowing grin. “Mm-hmm.”
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
She laughs and goes back to folding.
This has been happening for two days now. The knowing looks and the soft smiles from the other women who live here, in the compound. Naomi hugged me yesterday morning and held on for a solid thirty seconds, which was lovely but also made me want to crawl under the table.
Even Scar grunted at me in a way that I’m pretty sure was approval. Roxy actually squealed. Squealed. The woman who lectures about molecular bonding while holding a glowing crystal of infinite cosmic power straight-up squealed at me like we were teenagers at a sleepover.
It’s sweet and also hilarious because we haven’t even done anything yet.
That’s the problem.
I have spent two entire nights lying next to Texon of Twenty-Four in his enormous bed, both of us fully clothed, both of us wearing the green gloves of the unmated, and we have not touched. Not once. Not a brush of fingers, or a quick kiss, not even an accidental leg against a leg.
I want to kiss him so badly it hurts. I want to climb him like one of the trees in the Timbur jungle and do things to him that would make Lila’s knowing grin look like amateur hour.
Texon might be a virgin, but I’m not and I know exactly how much I’d love that enormous cock of his to be sliding inside of me.
Meanwhile Texon remains completely dormant. He’s not aroused and sleeps next to me like a monk. His body is just… waiting. Annoyingly patient.
“When we clasp hands and I become enflamed, I’ll take care of you,” he told me last night, when I was practically vibrating with frustration.
I had thoughts of masturbating right there, while in bed next to him, or take care of myself in the shower at the very least. But I’ve decided to hold on a little longer, so the first time we’re together will be as explosive as we both want.
I pour myself a cup of coffee and try to remember that the fate of his family and the collapse of this conspiracy are more important than my personal need to see what this male looks like naked.
Priorities.
An hour later, Chief finds me alone at the kitchen table. He’s already dressed for the mine even though he isn’t going in today. None of them are.
“The story?” he asks.
I smile up at him. “It’s finally ready. I can transmit it in under a minute.”
“Good.” He sits across from me. “And you’re sure about this?”
“About the story, or about tonight?”
“Both.”
I take a sip of coffee. They all know I’ve been working on this for the last two days.
I’ve been in constant contact with my editor, passing it back and forth, polishing this article within an inch of its life.
She’s disappointed I’m not giving her the interview article first, but I promised it was next.
She agreed to publish the exposé and also send it right away to the other big news organizations so they could spread it around the four sectors.
A story like this, about the mines at Timbur will be a hot topic.
“This story is the best piece of investigative journalism I’ve ever written,” I say, because it really is.
“It connects Kryzon to the attack on me, to the old evidence Scar’s been gathering, to his pattern of visits to the Royal Pigment district.
It names him and makes the case. Once it transmits, it goes live across the four sectors and Kryzon is finished.
It will lay everything out for the peacekeepers to easily make a case against him and put him under arrest. He won’t be able to wiggle out of this. ”
“And tonight?”
“I’m staying.”
“Ines, we have most of the other women and offspring at employee housing.”
“Chief.” I set down the cup. “If I’m not here, it won’t look real. He has to believe I’m about to send that story. I have to be the bait.”
He studies me for a long moment. I’ve seen him do this to his brothers. It’s the look that precedes either a yes or an argument I will definitely lose.
Finally, he nods. “Texon won’t like it.”
“Texon already doesn’t like it. We had a whole conversation about it last night. He lost. And the children?” I ask, looking around. “It’s awfully quiet around here.”
He smiles. “Moved this morning. Argylia, Zora, and Rux are at Hook and Leah’s place. Naomi and Lila went with them. We’re calling it a sleepover.”
“A sleepover.”
“Leah thought it sounded normal. The neighbors just see cousins visiting.”
“Smart.”
He sighs. “Roxy and Jana wanted to stay too.”
“I figured.”
“Scar tried to tell them to leave. None of us like the idea of any of you remaining at the compound during this fight.”
“How’d that go?”
“Roxy told him she wasn’t going to let that arrogant bastard get away with anything and she was staying right here.” Chief’s mouth twitches.
I have to admit Roxy might be my favorite.
The word goes out fast through the mining town about my exposé.
Kryzon must have spies everywhere, and the brothers know exactly which mouths to speak into.
By lunch, half of Timbur has heard that the off-planet journalist is transmitting her big exposé at dawn tomorrow and it will be a takedown of someone big in mining administration.
By dinner, I’d be willing to bet Kryzon knows too.
Roxy and Jana say that everyone on the planet is eagerly awaiting to see who is being exposed and are placing bets on who they think it is.
By late afternoon, my tablet chimes with a priority message from Grytel of Thirty-Six, CEO of Timbur Minecorp.
Oh boy.
I open it.
Ms. Vieira. It has come to my attention that your work on Timbur has strayed significantly from the purpose for which your credentials were approved.
You arrived here to write a human interest piece on the human females who have mated with Xylan miners.
That was the entirety of the agreement under which you were granted planetary access.
Instead, I am now hearing that you intend to transmit an investigative piece accusing a member of my administration of crimes.
Allow me to be very clear. Timbur is a restricted mining colony.
Press access is a privilege, not a right.
You are a guest, and your behavior as a guest has been unacceptable.
Effective immediately, your press credentials are revoked.
Consider this your notification that you are required to depart Timbur on the next available transporter.
If you refuse, you will be removed. Should you publish your story after leaving, you will be barred from returning to Timbur for the remainder of your lifespan, and I will personally see to it that every Xylan-administered colony in the four sectors receives a copy of your access revocation.
Your career in this sector will be over.
I suggest you reconsider your priorities.
—Grytel of Thirty-Six, CEO, Timbur Minecorp.
I read it twice. Then I let out a long, slow breath. “Well, he’s mad,” I mutter.
Texon is across the room, checking his blasting gear. He looks up. “Who’s mad?”
“Grytel.”
His whole body goes still. “What did he say?”
I turn the tablet around and let him read it. His face does not change, but I can feel the temperature in the room drop about ten degrees.
“He’s threatening to kick you off the planet,” he says flatly.
“He’s threatening to kick me off the planet, revoke my press credentials, make sure I never work in this sector again, and ban me from every Xylan colony in the four sectors. Yes.”
“When?”
“Immediately. Next available transporter.”
“He can’t.”
“He absolutely can. He’s the CEO of the entire mining operation. He has the authority. He’s also really, really upset that I pitched him a fluff piece and then did something else with it, which — fair. I did do that.”
Texon’s jaw tightens. “We don’t leave until this is finished.”
“Agreed. But he doesn’t know that.” I look down at the tablet.
“He thinks I’m out here running a rogue investigation to destroy some poor member of his administration, and he has no idea it’s actually Kryzon and that Kryzon has been orchestrating attacks on your family for rotations.
From Grytel’s point of view, I’m just an off-planet journalist who lied to him to get access and is now trashing one of his people. ”
“Grytel is not innocent.”
“I’m not saying he is.” I rub my temples. “I’m just saying he sounds like a man who genuinely believes he was betrayed. Not like a man covering for a conspiracy.”
Texon grunts, unconvinced.
I tap out a quick reply. Professional. Apologetic in tone but not in substance.
I tell him I have received his message, that I will depart Timbur on the transporter tomorrow morning, and that I appreciate his patience.
It’s a lie, more or less, we have no idea what tomorrow morning will actually look like, but it buys us tonight.
I hit send.
“Bought us time,” I tell Texon.
“Good.”
I set the tablet down. And the waiting resumes.