Naturally.

  Phares picked up his scanner and tapped on a few screens. The calibrator told him what he’d suspected. A blast just outside the asteroid had thrown off the rock’s balance. “Something destabilized the asteroid’s rotation again,” he said. I can’t get a reading. Maybe it was oxygen.”

  “If it was in here, we’d be dead,” Shoval said.

  Phares nodded. Of that, they both agreed. “We need to get back to the main tunnel lines. Find out what exploded, so—”

  Without warning, another blast hit, this one far more than the first, sending them both flying into the wall.

  Phares’s perception went black. Disoriented, sounds disappeared, and a moment later, everything burst from the shift in the pressure. Air sucked out of the space, a powerful swoosh tugging him to the far side of the chamber. Phares forced himself to control his breathing. He had to get to his breather. He had moments, seconds before all the air would be—

  Then it stopped.

  Phares rubbed his head.

  Opened his eyes.

  His paternal had shoved a sealer over a small segment in the rock that had cracked through to the exterior of the asteroid. The sealer covered and bonded the pressure leak, and the chamber hissed as air flowed back inside, returning the area back to a breathable atmosphere.

  “And that is how it’s done,” Shoval said, strutting over to his own collection of tools.

  “Quick thinking.” Phares pacified him. As he always did when his parental gloated. It kept the arrogance at bay.

  Somewhat.

  “Experience,” Shoval said, as he strutted around the chamber. “I know what to do when a chamber loses pressure.” He leaned in. “Do you?”

  “Hope I have someone as smart as you on my team,” Phares muttered, his head throbbing from the pressure bump.

  “That’s right,” Shoval said, slapping him in the chest. “By the stars, you’re not a complete fool.” He didn’t seem affected by the change in pressure.

  Figured.

  “No,” he said. No, he wasn’t. “Let’s get this done.”

  “Now that, I agree with,” Shoval said.

  A few hours later, Phares returned to his bunk back on the Mining Guild’s main ship. Exhausted from stabilizing the asteroids with the different units, the last thing he wanted to do was spend any more time with his parental.

  He’d had his fill, thanks.

  Normally, a pressure bump like today’s required the squads to meet in the lounge and cheer each other’s bravery, bragging about deeds and celebrating fixing the issue.

  Mostly, it would be his parental bragging about his own heroics.

  Phares was not in the mood. His head ached too badly. Normally, a headache was common after a hard hit because of a rapid pressure shift, but it went away shortly after acclimating back to the proper pressure.

  Today, however, it wasn’t. He chose to go back to his bunk instead and get some rest, assuming that would do it for him.

  However, it did not.

  Unfortunately, the headache got worse.

  Probably not a good thing.

  Now, he had very few options.

  Suffer.

  Or go to Medical.

  He did not want to go to Medical if his paternal would spot him. The way the ship was structured, it would be quite easy for his paternal to see him heading toward Medical.

  Suffering sounded easier.

  Shoval already thought he was worthless, but to see him going to Medical for assistance after a little pressure bump?

  That would only add oxygen to the explosion. There was enough of that today.

  His parental would never let that go.

  He watched to make sure no one was approaching in the hallway. He scanned all around, up and down, before he headed toward the nearest medical treatment zone of the cruiser.

  The Miner’s Guild ship, a mini planet in its own right, rotated to create gravity with a primary ring and secondary ones all around. The walls curved, and one could see humanoids walking on what seemed to be walls high overhead. It was large enough to house the thousands of humanoids who contributed to the life of the mining operation. This ship, Stonebroke, was only one of the Guild’s transports. There were several of these large, round beasts in the galaxy.

  Occasionally, when Phares’s paternal was being extra aggravating, he considered transferring to another ship.

  Today would be a good day for that.

  But his focus was on his head. It was throbbing worse with every step. He needed to get a pain shot and be done with it.

  Maybe it would cool his mood.

  “Phares?” came a voice.

  He stiffened.

  Now what?

  Breath caught.

  He turned.

  Coming toward him wasn’t his paternal. Instead, it was Agot, a petite humanoid with orange skin and freckles at her hairline, and she carried her new little one.

  Struggling, more like.

  She had the child, but also seemed to be transporting half a residence with her as she walked.

  “Do you need help, Agot?” he asked.

  She smiled. It was a sweet smile. Her mate, Driqan, was a lucky one. They had promoted him and Phares from mining together into the support tech. Driqan remained one of the proudest parentals he had met.

  “It wouldn’t hurt,” she said as the little one struggled in her arms.

  “Down! Down!”

  “No, Tee, Mommy has—”

  “Down!”

  “I will assist,” he said. Despite his headache, he unburdened her of the additional bags so she could better grip the child. The bags barely weighed anything to him, but they must have inhibited her because, as he took each bag, she seemed to stand taller.

  “Thank you.” Tee wrapped his arms around her but continued to stare at Phares over her shoulder. Little eyes that had wisdom in them.

  Or maybe they just saw past the fronts that so many put up.

  Including Phares.

  “What are you doing down here tonight?” Agot asked. “I thought you would be celebrating with the others.”

  Phares shook his head, though that simple gesture made his head throb more. “No. I was just—” his voice cracked as he spoke.

  She paused and turned, looking square at him. “You’re hurt from the accident today.”

  He shook his head, which only made the throbbing worse.

  He closed his eyes. Best that he didn’t see her disapproval.

  “Phares,” she chided.

  He sighed. “I know. It’s nothing. I’m being childish.”

  “That is not what I thought,” Agot snapped. “I was about to ask you why you are just now going to get help.”

  “I need nothing,” he said, adjusting the bags. “You need more help than I.”

  She shifted Tee from one side to the other. “I can manage. The question is, can you?”

  “I have all my life,” he said.

  And immediately wished he hadn’t spoken those words.

  “I see,” she said, and continued down the corridor. When they came to a junction, she paused. “I have to go this way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Tee’s appointment is this way.”

  It was the way to all the medical care. “I go that way too,” Phares said.

  She nodded again.

  They hadn’t gotten much further when he heard a far too familiar laugh.

  His whole body froze.

  “There’s my boy, the fool,” his parental sneered.

  Heavy into his cups, Shoval was being escorted along by other miners, some of whom were as old as Shoval. Most carried similar thinking.

  The laughter seemed to float down to Phares, and he wished gravity would fail and he could float up to them and see how well they did in Zero-G combat.

  Zero-G was not pleasant when intoxicated.

  "What do you want?" he snapped, the headache only worsened by his paternal's antagonizing. Could Shoval do anything besides belittle and mock him? He had never known his paternal to be any other way.

  "I know what I want," Shoval said. "A son who wasn't an idiot." Shoval gestured.

  Phares gritted his teeth. He shifted the bag that he carried, his hand tightening on the strap, for if he needed to put it down—

  From the door of the lounge from which his parental had emerged came a couple more miners.

  One of them was Driqan.

  "Look at that, Driqan, my spawn, the fool, thinks he serves your mate!”

  Truly, Shoval pushed too much.

  Phares growled.

  Driqan and another miner with red skin and horns, Olmed, headed toward Shoval. “Knock it off, Shoval. You're wasting your voice.”

  “I speak what I speak,” Shoval said. “And that is…” He turned and looked around like he’d lost his thoughts. “That would be, uh…”

  Olmed gestured to the others. “Take him home.”

  "This is more fun!" one fired back.

  "It won't be if Phares gets a hold of you," Olmed said.

  Shoval snorted. "That boy's not worth—”

  Olmed stepped toward Shoval, his red skin pulsing and the armored bones on his back poking out of his shirt. Even his horns twitched. "Do you really want to cross Phares? A Xian? A young and sober one? And me?"

  Olmed glanced at Phares, then back at the other male. “Go. Get going.”

  The others continued on their way, evidently realizing the best choice for the night would be to move on and not mess with the Kantenan.

  They shouldn’t be messing with Phares, either. His purple skin and the bones jutting out of his shoulders, while not as menacing as his paternal’s, were still deadly in battle. Just being Xianan was enough to get most to back off.

  Even from a distance. Olmed glanced at him again, and he nodded.

  Phares returned the gesture and turned back to Agot. “Shall we get to your appointment?”

  She nodded. As they moved a little further away, where they were less likely to be heard, she whispered. “Are you well?”

  “I have a headache,” he muttered, the pain in his head getting worse by the moment.

  “I don’t doubt it,” she replied.

  A short while later, Phares expected the medical tech’s return. While he didn’t want to be waiting around for temporary pain relief, he had little choice. The throbbing was getting worse, and as a result, so was his frustration. Even the bones on his shoulder were pulsing, or at least it felt that way.

  They were sure taking a long time to get back to him, though. It seemed like he’d been in the room for ages.

  He shivered and rubbed his arms. Why did they keep medical offices so cold?

  Still frustrated over his parental’s inebriated words, anger seethed beneath his skin. He knew it was because of past issues and had nothing to do with the pain, but it seemed the more frustrated he felt, the worse the pain got.

  Maybe he was overly tired and too sensitive to Shoval’s words and jabs this time. He tried to find the logic in the situation. It was what he used to get through most situations, especially those instigated by his parental. Most of the time, it worked.

  Today, it felt like foolish thinking.

  He rubbed his head and noticed it even hurt when he touched his hair.

  Whatever this was, it was getting more intense.

  The soft slide of the door made him look up.

  “Phares,” the medic said.

  “About time,” he muttered.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’ve been busy tonight.”

  Phares rolled his eyes. When was a medical suite ever not busy?

  “Whatever. Just give me my meds, and I’ll be gone.”

  “It’s not that simple,” the medic said.

  Phares shook his head. “It was a pressure bump. I must have hit my head. I just need some meds.”

  “I believe you. And I think you need some meds, but it will not fix the issue.”

  “What’s the problem? I have Miner’s Cough or something?” A common illness among the mining community, it could knock a miner down for a few days as the sickness wore through.

  “No, but you do have Fever.”

  Phares rolled his eyes. “So, Miner’s Cough then. Just give me the meds and I’ll be on my way.”

  “No. Not Miner’s Cough. Fever.”

  Phares blinked. “Wait.”

  Surely, he wasn’t referring to—

  The medic nodded. “Yes. Fever. The Xianan Mating Fever. That was what took me so long; I was comparing your scans with your physical overview last month. Somehow, the pressure bump kicked up the Fever.” He took a step toward him, scanner in his hand, and raised it. “Probably when you knocked your head, I’m guessing. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the results. And you are in the Fever. It will be a very intense one, too, according to these levels.”

  Phares shook his head. Which only made his head hurt more.

  “I can’t,” he muttered.

  “Do you have a partner?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you had better get one. Quickly.”

  Phares glared at the medic. “And where do I just go get a life mate? I can’t buy one.”

  “In a way, you can.”

  Phares raised his eyebrow.

  The medic opened the door, and standing outside was Fwan, one of the Resource directors.

  Fwan, at least as old as Phares’s paternal, entered, and the room suddenly seem darker, like he swallowed the surrounding light. His expression was stony and hard. Phares was sure he’d seen asteroid ore that looked more loving and compassionate than Fwan.

  “Phares, I hear we have an issue.”

  “I don’t know how you can help,” Phares said.

  “I have a suggestion,” Fwan said.

  Phares’s head pulsed, and he glanced at the medic. “Can’t you do something for me?” He rubbed his temples. “I can’t think straight.”

  The medic gave him a shot, and almost instantly the edge backed down.

  Phares sighed. “Now, why didn’t you give me that before? I’ll be fine now.”

  “The effects of the injection only last a few days. It’s only a temporary easing of the natural effect. And it will get worse before it gets better.”

  “But it will get better.”

  “If you mate.”

  Phares groaned. “Sure, let me run down to the lounge and just grab a female.”

  “How about you head over to Disguised Serenity?” Fwan said.

  “The space station? Why?” Though it wasn’t a bad idea, there were a lot more humanoids there, and surely there would be a variety.

  Someone could soothe the Fever.

  Surely. At least until the next onslaught. Unfortunately, until he found a permanent mate, he would have to find temporary partners to ease the Fever.

  The Fever, however, was merciless, and would continue reoccurring until he found a permanent mate.

  “Have you heard of the Intergalactic Dating Agency?” Fwan asked.

  Phares blinked. “The matchmakers?”

  “I have never seen them fail.”

  Phares sighed. Yet another thing his parental would mock him for, surely.

  “What if the mate isn’t interested in this life?”

  Fwan glanced at the medic, and then back. “You would have to convince her.”

  2

  “Here you go,” Jana said, smiling as she handed the next in line the main course of his meal.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” the man mumbled, his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and his hair scraggly and sticking out at awkward angles.

  Jana shifted, and there was the next plate. She scooped the pasta dish, grabbed a piece of bread, and handed it to the next person in line.

  A steady flow of people passed through St. Anthony’s that night. The summer heat had done its worst to everyone. So many were tired, and everyone’s skin had been baked by the scorching sun.

  “Don’t forget your water,” Jana said to a man who almost passed up his beverage. “Gotta stay hydrated!”

  “Sure.” He picked up the glass and added it to his tray.

  “No Stefan tonight?” Dyana asked Jana as they served.

  “He’s working out of town,” Jana said. It was the usual case with Stefan. He was always traveling for work, and she didn’t get to see him as much as she wanted.

  “He seems to be gone a lot lately,” Dyana said, her eyebrow raised.

  Jana shrugged. “He’s been busy.” In her glove, she could feel the little promise ring she wore slipping around her finger. She needed to get something to make the band fit a little better, so it didn’t rock around so much.

  “When was the last time you talked to him?” Dyana asked.

  “Saturday,” she replied before she could stop herself.

  “You know it’s Thursday, right?” Dyana asked.

  “I know.” She focused on the people in line and didn’t let the judgmental expression on Dyana’s face get to her.

  At least, she didn’t want to.

  Unfortunately, it did.

  “Sides,” Dyana called out as she scraped her spoon around the almost-empty tray of corn.

  “‘Please’ would be nice,” Jana said, winking at Dyana.

  “Sides, please!”

  “Busy night!” Betty came up behind Jana with a fresh tray of green beans. She swapped it out with the almost-empty pan of corn.

  “I’ll take those beans,” one man in line said.

  “Sure thing.” Dyana shifted to serving the green beans.

  “They seem to keep coming.” Jana handed off another plate, being sure to smile at each patron.

  Some of them smiled back. Others kept their heads down, but it didn’t matter. They all were hungry.

  Jana would not let them starve. She served food two or three times a week at St. Anthony’s, sometimes as a server in the family section that had round tables for family groups. Other times, she worked the main food line for individuals who sat in the main part with long cafeteria-like tables and chairs.

  In the center sat an upright piano for churches who brought in choirs to sing during meals on holidays. They never put it away, in case someone wanted to play it.

  Jana had started serving food there as part of her company's charitable efforts. Jana, however, found it to be soul-saving for herself. A gentle reminder to appreciate what she had, even if it wasn’t the best circumstances, and to show kindness whenever she could, no matter how she felt. If she had to fake it at the beginning of a shift because she felt sad or upset, by the end, it would be genuine.

 

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