“So you need women.”
“We need mates.” The distinction seemed important to him. His tail—that damned tail that kept trying to touch her—curled tighter behind him. “Among my people, reproduction requires more than physical compatibility. There must be what we call a mate bond between the male and female. Without it, conception is impossible.”
“That sounds like mysticism, not science.”
“No. In our case, it is an actual physical response. Without that bond a male cannot find true… completion with a female and a child is impossible.” He looked down at Robbie, still sleeping peacefully in his arms, and something in his expression softened. “We have always believed that such a bond could only occur between a Cire male and a Cire female. But apparently the Council has heard… rumors.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“That others had succeeded. That Cire males had formed bonds with females from other species and had children with them.”
Reproduction within a species could be problematic, but across species? It sounded even more farfetched. “Are you trying to tell me that there are half-Cire babies running around out there?”
“I’m telling you that I have just learned that the Council has reason to believe it’s possible.” His eyes met hers, and she saw the weight of everything he wasn’t saying. “I am unsure about the bond aspect, but a scientist claims to have documented acase of successful interspecies breeding. His nephew is here in charge of this facility.”
“Which is why I am here as well. Because now you’re desperate enough to try anything.”
“Yes.”
The honesty of the admission hit her harder than she expected. She had been prepared for lies, for evasion, for the kind of clinical detachment she’d seen from her Vedeckian captors. But not this raw, painful truth…
Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s part of this. He’s one of them.
But even as she thought it, her eyes were drawn to the protective way he held Robbie. Like the baby was something precious rather than an inconvenience.
“I’m sorry for what your people have suffered,” she said carefully. “I am. But I didn’t cause it, and I don’t deserve to be punished for it.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Then let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“I mean Ican’t.” His voice hardened on the word. “The people in charge of this project will not let you go. If I tried to release you, I would be punished and perhaps even eliminated. They will not allow their last hope to simply walk away.”
Her hands were shaking, and she pressed them flat against her thighs to hide it.
“So you expect me to have a Cire child.”
The words came out flat and brutal. He flinched, and his tail lashed behind him before he brought it back under control.
“That is the hope, yes.”
“And how exactly do you plan to accomplish that?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice, remembering the examinations and the casual violation of her autonomy. “Am I going to be strapped down while some Cire soldier does his duty for the good of the species? Or is it more clinical than that—artificial insemination in a sterile room, like breeding livestock?”
He flinched again.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I was only brought in yesterday.” The frustration in his voice sounded genuine. “I was told about the project and assigned to oversee security. But the medical protocols…” He shook his head. “I haven’t been briefed on the specifics.”
“How convenient.”
“It’s the truth. I suspect your first… suggestion is impossible for the reason I mentioned, but I don’t know how the second would work either. Our sperm loses viability almost as soon as it leaves our body. That is why our previous artificial breeding attempts have been failures.”
