Talos scowled.
Not at the picture itself—it was a perfectly nice picture of his mother, father, and his two younger brothers, Alexander and Khan.
For the third day in a row, he ignored it. He was a grown Felid. He had his training. He had a job waiting for him.
The food lost its delicate flavor and beautiful bouquet. Talos rose and began pacing the small room he’d gotten on the edge ofthe port, a cheap place meant for short stays. There was barely enough room for a good, angry stalk.
You are a grown male. You are not a cub! Call your father and face him.
Striped tail lashing angrily, Talos sat and grunted as he returned the call with a flick of thick white paw tips.
“About time!” his father greeted him without a smile.
Straight to business. That was very typical of his father, and of most adult Tigerites Talos knew. “I’ve been preparing for travel. We’ll be heading to the Lynxian System, and the ship has had only minimal security upgrades over the last six years. Like most ships.”
“Do you blame them?”
“No, but—”
“You think perhaps they should have been worried about their software while their mothers and wives were perishing by the thousands, yes?”
“No!”
He hadn’t meant to bring up Queen Fever.
Did every damn thing have to relate to the damned virus? Durga pardon him for thinking irreverently, but not a day could go by without a reminder.
Heaviness settled on his shoulders like sacks of rice. His mother had survived because their farm was isolated, and his father had done all the marketing in the nearest town, bundled in protective gear and sleeping in the barns for a week in between trips to ensure he was not ill before coming home.
“No, Father. Of course not. I am only saying that there will be lots of retroactive work to do on this ship, as well as continuing to keep its security systems running smoothly. Gainful employment and a use for my degree.”
“Fine.”
Talos blinked. His father didn’t usually agree with him—on anything.
“How long did you sign on for?”
“A year for the first contract.”
“Excellent. I think Laxmi’s parents can wait that long.”
“Laxmi? Little Laxmi from the shipping office?” Talos felt the crayfish roll flip in his stomach. “Laxmi is—”
“Turning sixteen. Her parents have agreed to have you officially recognized as a mated couple now, even though you cannot wed for two more years. They respect your earning potential as well as the fact that youwillcomehomeand run the farm. You can work locally and still consult on security matters. Even go into the cities when you need to.”
Putting a paw to his head, Talos protested, “Father, no! Listen to me, please. I don’t know yet what I’ll do about a future career, but you don’t need me at home. You have Alexander and Khan!”
“Mere cubs. Fifteen and nine.”
“Then why not betroth Alexander to Laxmi?”
“You are my eldest son! What would people say if you did not have a bride and yet I offered Laxmi’s parents mymiddleson?”
“That it’s less creepy to set up a long engagement between two youngsters turning sixteen as opposed to betrothing a sixteen-year-old Queen to a Tigerite who’s twenty-two? It’s not okay, Dad. I’m not doing it. See if Laxmi likes Alex, okay?” From what Talos remembered, every boy in the village liked Laxmi, who was not only stunningly pretty with pearly white fur and rich inky stripes, but also clever, and simply available in a time when few other females were.
His father’s face was dangerously still. If Talos was a marsh duck, he would fear for his life.
“There are less than one hundred females between thirteen and thirty in our entire district. Most of those are marriedor already spoken for. Your father owns a farm. You are a handsome boy, distinguished in your studies, traveling, and having adventures. That’s the only reason you have a pig’s chance in paradise at getting a bride!”
