by Alana Serra
Retrieving the genetic slides and drawing Adi’sun’s curiosity as he did so, Kor’ven examined them in sequence, looking for adaptations, mutations, and other abnormalities. They existed, of course. All implants were coded with them. But there was something very strange in this one. Something that did not match what was typical.
“Do you have the genetic profile of… anyone, I suppose. Karuvar or human?” he asked.
Adi’sun was watching him work and she nodded. “Give me a moment.”
She returned with the slide and Kor’ven examined that alongside Vazik’s. They would be different, of course, but genetic code was not much of a mystery as a whole. Many strands would read the same, and the differences would be--or should be--minute.
“What are you looking for?” she asked. “Genetics have never been a strength of mine.”
There was a temptation to tell her. Few would know to look for what he was currently searching out because few knew--and even fewer believed--that it was possible to tamper with the genetics in the first place. Kor’ven knew all too well, and spotting an abnormality was as easy for him as a master painter identifying a stray brush stroke.
“I… have learned to identify when genetic code has been tampered with,” he simply said.
Her eyes widened, but she asked nothing further. For now. Instead, she pulled up a stool and sat beside him as he worked. It was comforting, having her near. Almost as comforting as it was distracting, for every second breath he drew in, he could smell the scent of her hair or her skin.
He was able to remain focused, though, and he finally identified a rather significant difference. He pointed it out to Adi’sun, allowing her to take a look.
“If these strands were coded in letters,” he explained, “they would typically be expressed as ABABBA. But you can see this one is ABACBA. The existence of that one protein completely changes the genetic marker.”
When she pulled back from the microscope, her face was alight. He recognized that look: it was the sheer joy of scientific discovery, even if it had not been hers.
“Is this not something that could occur naturally?” she asked.
Kor’ven shook his head. “Assuming there are no anomalies in Mei’gahn and Verkiir’s genetics, no. And the fact that this is an entirely different code speaks of tampering.”
She looked again, confirming what he had seen. Her brow furrowed and he watched as she stepped away from him, pacing the small room. Her anxiety spoke to something in him, and he ached to go to her; to soothe her. But he remained in his seat, simply watching.
“This is a serious allegation. The idea that someone tampered with Vazik’s implant coding is… unconscionable.” She wrapped her arms about herself then turned wide blue eyes upon him. “How do you know this, Kor’ven? Can you prove it was tampered with?”
Kor’ven drew in a breath. He should have known she would ask that. And now that the future of their combined species was at stake, he supposed he owed her the full answer.
“I can,” he said, and prepared himself to explain.
10
"I believe what I am about to say to you is vital for us to continue working in a productive fashion. But understand that it is knowledge that should not be shared beyond this room," he said, leveling a steady gaze upon Adi'sun.
She did not smile, did not nod eagerly the way his assistant might have. Her expression was entirely sober as she said, "I understand."
As much as he knew he needed to explain--for the betterment of Karuvar and humans alike--Kor'ven felt something akin to fear as he considered it. The last time he had presented his findings, he'd been all but labeled a heretic, shipped out to a remote Earth Waystation where he could no longer cause significant ripples.
"Many orbits ago, I was tasked with something of a secret project," he began. "This was back before the implants were refined. They existed, of course, but they were specifically coded for us to survive on our home planet."
"Kai'del," Adi'sun said.
He nodded, continuing. "The Pathfinder at the time--Drol'gan's sire--knew Kai'del's resources would not sustain us, but we were not suited to long distance intergalactic travel. So a team of scientists was tasked with finding some way to modify the implants so that we could better adapt."
It had been such a noble goal, and something he was proud to play a part in. It was not bragging to say that if it had not been for the efforts of Kor'ven and his team, the Karuvar would have perished when Kai'del met its fate.
"I led a team of four, structured much like the teams that are stationed at your Waystations. Mechanical engineers, bio-engineers, genetic engineers, and programmers. We devised a way to manipulate the code and make the implant much more reactive within its host. It became something like a… helpful virus, reacting to the body's current state and adapting as necessary.
"But at some point, it also mutated, leading to something of a golden age in Karuvar genetics. I believed even then that it was getting out of our control, and that the consequences would be dire. But the Pathfinder pushed for more research, more advances."
He watched Adi'sun as he spoke, watched for her reactions. With a Karuvar, he could typically tell from the slightest twitch of their ears how they were receiving his tale. Adi'sun was more difficult to read, though she did not appear hostile. Yet.
"Eventually I was transitioned to a secret project. One very few Karuvar know was ever being worked on. You see, this sterility crisis that befell my people did not happen overnight. Mates were having difficulty conceiving, kits were stillborn or born with unimaginable defects."
Adi'sun's brow furrowed. "A result of the tampering."
Kor'ven felt an odd lump in his throat and he tried very hard to swallow it. It was different for her. She was human, and not bound by Karuvar beliefs. Still, the fact that she had picked up on this connection so quickly was worth much to Kor'ven.
"Yes. But I could not prove it, and the Pathfinder was adamant in his belief that we could simply alter the implants to fix the issue of fertility. So our task force was created, and we were charged with… modifying the genetic markers found in live implants."
"I… don't understand. Those markers are hard-coded to the individual. If they don't match, you end up with an implant like Vazik's."
Kor'ven nodded. "Yes. But that was not a priority at the time--having viable kits was. So we placed a test group of adult Karuvar into a database, and we matched them based on several factors we believed would produce strong kits. Then we… altered their genetic markers so that they would recognize one another as mates."
Adi'sun's eyes widened and she briefly lifted her hand to her mouth, fingers covering it before trailing almost absently down her chin.
"You… arranged mates? Genetically?"
"That is a simplified way of looking at it, but yes," he snapped, correcting himself with a soft sigh. None of this was her fault, and she was right to be aghast. "Our initial test group was very small, and I… was a part of it. I was matched with a female, Dozhta, and I altered both our implants so that we would resonate with one another."
Kor'ven's pulse thrummed just beneath his skin. He rubbed absently at his implant site, feeling the raised skin. When he ventured a glance to Adi'sun, she had stopped pacing entirely, pouring herself in a chair.
"For a time, the experiment seemed promising. Our implants responded to one another and we were brought together as surely as if we were natural mates. I…"
It was difficult to say what his mate meant to him. He had observed humans long enough to know that they called such affection "love," but it seemed too simple, too limiting a descriptor. What happened between mates was not love. It was biologically engineered to be infallible, and not based on the whims of flighty emotions.
Still...
"I came to care for her, beyond the fact that she was my mate. We were very different. She was a warrior charged with arming the weapons aboard the Zavellan, where I was working at the time. I continued altering the impla
nts of other Karuvar, and by the time the project was called to an end, we had twenty-one pairs matched, most of them with kits on the way."
Adi'sun looked up at him and he could practically feel the sorrow in her blue gaze. He had never responded well to such strong emotion, but some part of him ached for it now.
"And you?"
Kor'ven's fingers flexed as he gripped the edge of the table briefly before letting go. "Yes. Dozhta was with child."
A silence fell over the room. The outcome was easy enough to see, he supposed. He had never spoken of a mate nor a kit, and so their demise in this story was inevitable. Somehow transmuting that memory into cold, hard fact did little to ease his mind.
"A few months into their pregnancy, some of the females began to grow violently ill. Neither they nor their unborn kits were getting enough nutrients, and despite our efforts to intervene, they simply… wasted away." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "Dozhta and my kit were the fourth and fifth to die, respectively."
He could not look at Adi'sun, and he tried his hardest to block out anything he might hear or sense. But it was impossible not to feel her, like a warm, gentle breeze sweeping over him as she approached. He scarcely had the opportunity to look up before he felt her arms come around him.
It should have been a silly thing. She was tiny compared to him, and the only reason she could embrace him about the shoulders was because he was currently seated. It should matter very little, or at the most he should feel that same insistent urge that made him want to claim her.
But when she pressed her cheek to his shoulder, he felt… calm. Soothed.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, and the emotion in her voice felt genuine.
Kor'ven swallowed again, recognizing that lump for what it was: his own suppressed emotion. He had never permitted himself the opportunity to grieve, and he voiced as much now.
"I had no right to Dozhta, or the kit that would have resulted from our union."
Adi'sun pulled back slightly to look at him. "So you believe their deaths were just punishment for doing what you were told to do?"
"Not for them, no. But for me? Perhaps."
Indignation flashed in her eyes, but she did not release him. "What happened to the project?"
"It was stopped, thankfully. We lost a total of twelve females and twelve kits. Post-mortem diagnosis seemed to suggest the tampering had an adverse effect on the kits in the womb, and the mother's body reacted as if it were under siege."
Adi'sun pursed her lips and finally did release him, though she did not move very far away. Still, he felt her absence keenly.
"You believe someone is tampering with the genetic markers again, but… for what? Karuvar and humans are viable mates."
Something changed in her expression when she said that word. There was a flash of heat in her gaze, a rush of red to her cheeks. It spoke to that part of Kor'ven that he had somehow managed to suppress thus far. Not fully. The few moments of passion they'd shared was proof enough of that. But if he allowed his body to rule him, they would have already been mated.
"That I do not know."
"We have to bring this to Drol'gan. If someone's tampering with the implants--"
"We need to be certain. I will not go to the Pathfinder with what is merely conjecture."
Adi'sun's gaze was searching and severe. "I don't believe you think of it as 'merely conjecture.'"
"That is irrelevant."
She scoffed, finally moving away from him. He understood her frustration. If what he believed was true, they needed to act, and quickly. But she did not know the things he did--she did not know the kind of resistance they would meet.
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" she asked. "There are kits being born every day, and at least five are due for their implants."
"Any tampering--if that is what has occurred--will need to be adjusted individually."
She turned a defiant stare upon him, and he knew he was skirting the edge of what would no doubt be an impassioned and convincing argument.
If he was not careful, she would make him believe it, too.
"Going to the Pathfinder before we have sufficient evidence will be disastrous," he said.
"Why? Drol'gan is a good leader, he believes in the science. I can't imagine him--"
"You have to trust me."
"How can I trust you when you constantly treat me as if I'm less than you?" she asked, her voice raised and raw with sudden emotion.
She did not apologize for it, and as well she should not. Kor'ven had been terrible to her. He knew that. At first it was because he had believed her to be less. Less competent, less thorough, less dedicated. Over time, though, it was clear there was only one explanation for his distance.
"You are the furthest thing from 'less' that I can possibly imagine," he said quietly.
Her brows rose, her lips parted slightly, and that flush returned to her cheeks as she averted her gaze. Still that scientific mind of hers was unrelenting, though.
"Then why act the way you do?"
Kor'ven considered his answer for only a moment. "Because I am afraid."
Adi'sun looked back at him, surprise registering on her features.
"From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. When I arrived at Waystation Helios, that pull only grew stronger. I knew what it was, of course. And I put every ounce of energy I could spare into resisting it."
Her chest rose and fell so rapidly that he could imagine her heart was also beating as fiercely as his.
"Because you had work to do,” she said. “Progress to make that would be hindered by… a mate."
Kor'ven felt a twinge of wrongness deep in his gut. Her explanation was what he had told himself many times, but for some reason, it did not feel correct now.
"That is what I thought, yes. I'm not sure it is the truth."
He looked at her then--truly looked at her. She was nothing like Dozhta. They had no similar attributes, physically or otherwise. And yet when he looked upon Adi'sun, all he could see was her pale, lifeless form when this reached its inevitable conclusion.
"I… am afraid my instincts are lying to me. That there was some permanent effect to altering my implant, despite changing it back."
Adi'sun seemed not to breathe for a long moment before letting out a puff of air. "Even if that were true, my implant has never been altered."
There was something in her eyes as she approached him once more. Something that drew him in, took him over, answered the song that roared through his blood.
"You don't think any of this is real." She laughed softly, almost incredulously. "Maybe… maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one affected. There are times that, whenever I'm around you, I can barely think straight."
"It is not just you," he said, his own voice lowering.
He rose from his chair, pulled to his feet by some inexplicable force. It made no sense scientifically, and yet it was certainly happening.
"I've dreamed about you. God, I…" The red in her cheeks darkened. "I know what it feels like to have you inside of me. And you're telling me you don't think that's real?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but he was unable to utter a single word. Adi'sun reached up, her hands upon his face, and pressed her mouth to his. Her lips were soft, warm, and it was impossible for Kor'ven not to respond. The moment he did, something within him sang, drowning out that clawing feeling of solitude that had lingered within him for so long.
She drew back well before he was ready, his lips still tingling with sensation. His eyes opened and he looked down into those endless pools of blue.
"You can't tell me that wasn't real."
No. He could not. He could not fool himself anymore, nor did he wish to. Everything in him longed to have her; to claim her as his. And if that was just some cruel joke of science, then he would allow himself to be fooled.
Sinking his hands into her hair, Kor'ven brought his mouth down upon hers in a fierce, possessive kiss.
; 11
Addison almost felt like a woman possessed. One second she was angry and hurt, the next she was overwhelmed by this deep, unabiding need that wasn't entirely physical.
There was probably a scientific explanation. She and Kor'ven had spent so much time together that this outcome was inevitable. But to Addison, there seemed to be more of an emotional catalyst. She understood now why he acted the way he did. Why he was distant and reserved, why he did everything in his power to keep her at arm's length. Why his scientific focus was often single-minded, and why he was averse to inviting her in, professionally or otherwise.
And that understanding was what ultimately made her okay with the fact that she was probably acting against her best interests. If they were mates--and it was hard for her to believe they weren't, despite Kor'ven's fears--she imagined she would feel justified by what she was about to do. But once the mating frenzy cleared, reality would be waiting for her, and she didn't know if she could handle it.
For now, though, she didn't care. She wanted this. She'd wanted it from the moment she first saw him, and over time, she'd come to need it, too. So when his hands threaded into her hair, Addison did something she'd never done before: she let go. Let go of all the reasons she shouldn't give in, let go of all the what ifs and all the work waiting for them. Let go of thought, of her mind running a million miles a minute, and gave in to feeling.
She kissed him back fiercely, her hands on him like he was hers to own. Fingers slid over his broad shoulders and bunched in his lab coat. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and she was rewarded with a rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate through him and into her.