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Give Talia a discrepancy with enough edges and she became calmer, not because she believed every problem could be solved, but because it could no longer move around her unseen.
She leaned farther over the display. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Sera’n wasn’t comparing these warriors because they were dead.”
I frowned. “How do you know?”
“I don’t.” She dragged one reconstructed column beside another. “But look at what he built.”
Her finger moved down the screen. “Accession dates here. Compatibility histories here. Current values beside archived ones. Then the warrior identifiers.”
“Continue.”
“What if the death status wasn’t the thing he cared about?”
“What was?”
She stared at the records. “I don’t know yet….hmm…when you became officially dead, what happened to your reproductive records?”
The question was unexpected enough that I did not answer immediately. “My what?”
“Compatibility information. Genetic profile. Fertility data. Whatever Zuna keeps on warriors.”
“I had standard military biological records.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
I understood what she meant.
“No compatibility record existed.”
Her forehead creased. “None?”
“I was not registered for matching.”
Her brows creased. “Why? You were active military, I understand that. But soldiers still take mates eventually. There would have been biological information on file somewhere.”
“Yes.”
“Samples?” She leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. “You had samples taken.”
I nodded.
Talia sat back slowly, and for a long moment she said nothing at all.
I watched her turn the question over. She was quiet a moment, then asked, “Where do biological samples belonging to dead warriors go?”
“Archived military storage.”
“Could reproductive researchers access those samples?”
“Under specific authorization.”
She went still, and I saw the connection land. “There,” she said.
“That proves nothing.”
