Page 34 of Stars on Fire

‘What else do the metanoids do?’

‘They can deliver a thousand times more oxygen to the body tissues. They’re also 1000 times faster than antibiotic-assisted white blood cells with no chance of developing multiple drug resistance. They can treat infections in the respiratory system, the cerebrospinal fluids, and the urinary and synovial fluids. Additionally, our clottocyte response time is 100-1000 times faster than the natural haemostatic system to reduce clotting time and blood loss.’

‘Impressive.’

He kept going, noting her riveted attention. ‘Here on Eden II, we pushed our metanoids further. We developed the ability to harvest them from our blood and reproduce them in large quantities. We can apply our tech to them and alter them as we wish. Some of our ships’ surfaces are coated with the same self-replicating metanoids, tweaked slightly to provide them with a unique stealth capability.’

Selene’s eyes shone, fascinated by his revelations. ‘So any Edenite across the galaxies could, for argument’s sake, harvest their metanoids and use it for stealth warfare or weapons?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Nada. Just The Sable Group.’

Selene raised an eyebrow. ‘Why is that? Do you and the other Riders have proprietary tech?’

Kainan’s expression turned to stone. ‘I think I’ve said enough.’

She studied him briefly, regretting the wall he’d just slammed between them. Perhaps she’d get her answers somewhere else. Selene turned to check the four other Sable Riders settling into their table. Then, she leaned forward and into Kainan’s space.

‘Should we join them?’ she asked.

Kainan shook his head, his hair shimmering in the low bar light. ‘They won’t spill any secrets either, Selene. Please give it up. Besides, they have business to discuss amongst themselves. I’ll keep you company.’

Selene blushed slightly at Kainan’s spot-on assessment. ‘Not if you don’t want to. I can take care of myself.’

The gold flecks in his eyes glowed even more intensely, and he leaned in, a long finger gently touching her forearm. ‘But I want to.’

Their eyes locked again, and she felt caught up in a whirlpool she could not escape even if she tried.

Jarok delivered a platter of food with a flourish, breaking the tension that had leapt up between them. Behind him came a pair of servers placing bowls of scrumptious-looking entrées, fried bread, sauces, fruits and nuts.

The two women, beautiful Falasians with long necks and flowing hair, flashed smiles and giggled behind their trays as they served the food, clearly captivated by Kainan. He ignored their dancing eyes and seductive smirks, reaching out for the food on the deep counter. Selene followed suit, using the delicious bites as a well-needed distraction.

She felt him gaze at her as she ate and resisted meeting those mesmerising eyes again.

Instead, she looked around, taking in the atmosphere. From the crooning Tansinian singer on the beautifully adorned stage wooing the room with her haunting voice to the prowling dancers in rainbow-hued Walia peacock tail feathers artfully placed on their naked bodies, the place was a fascinating, extravagant establishment.

She glanced back at Kainan and found him doodling. He’d plucked a pencil and napkin from the bar and was now covering it in an illustration she couldn’t work out.

She quietly watched his pencil make quick contours and shadows on the paper.

He looked up briefly and gave her a wry nod before looking down and continuing his art.

Her gaze shifted back to the mesmerising room and its occupants. Servers and busmen darted in-between tables delivering banquets of food, trays of kaleidoscopic drinks and cocktails, and the patrons seemed to lap it up.

What would her father have thought of it?

Kei’Lano had always urged Selene to seek the simple joys in life, the company of good friends, excellent food and wine. She knew he’d have enjoyed visiting The Osirian. They’d have sat at one of the banquettes and discussed politics, science and social justice until the last crooner left the building and the lights came up at closing time.

She felt her eyes mist over.

The man beside her stirred. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he said softly.

‘What?’ she asked softly, looking up, torn away from her memories.

‘Your father. And what happened to him.’

Her face fell, and he reached out a warm hand to cover her cold one on the counter.

‘I’m not pushing you, Selene,’ he said softly. ‘I’m simply saying I’m willing to listen when you’re ready. I know that sharing how you feel may help to process the awfulness of it all.’

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