Raven Feathers

By Jackson Cordd

Sequel to Lavender Skies
Quantinum Residue: Book Three

Rourke, a surface dweller, and Evan, the Shelter 17 geneticist who left his underground home, share Rourke’s hut now, but their problems are far from over. Rourke wants to include Evan in life at the village, but pressure from other tribal members reopens old wounds Rourke had thought long healed. Tensions build in the tribe as Rourke spirals into depression, and he lashes out at Evan, driving a wedge between them. Evan faces concerns of his own when he discovers dangerous radioactive elements in the water supply. Evan wants to help Rourke, but doesn’t know if he can keep their fledgling relationship from collapsing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
• Release date: May 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781627986199

Book preview

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Chapter 1

ROURKE CRAWLED out of the bed, careful not to wake Evan, who still slumbered on the mattress. The light of early dawn barely glowed through the window slits as he searched near the bed for his deerskin kilt. He was anxious to get back to the project he’d started yesterday and maybe even complete it before the workday began. He got dressed and slipped out of the tiny adobe house without disturbing Evan.

Heading for the central plaza, Rourke knew it was too early to get a warm breakfast, but Pleno usually laid out bread and other leftovers for the early risers. He planned to grab a few quick bites before going to the construction workshop.

Seeing the mottled-fur-colored figure hunched over one of the picnic tables changed the course of his plans. He called out a soft Yoiyo to Antinee as he went to the kitchen area. With some bread and cheese in hand, he took a seat at the table across from him. It was nice to have someone else in the village to practice his English with. He had been working hard on his language skills to impress Evan.

Up early? Or up late? he asked the visitor in English.

Up early, Antinee said with a yawn. Fell asleep right after dinner. Just woke up a bit ago.

Rourke nodded as he ate a few bites. Is there something you not want to say in front of Idelle last night?

With a nod, Antinee grimaced. When I passed by the Houston area four days ago, I still couldn’t find any traces of the tribe. It’s as if they’ve just vanished.

They like to… wander. Maybe out somewhere? Rourke offered hopefully.

For almost nine months now? And they usually leave behind notes and maps at their site for where they’re going. Nothing like that in their village now.

Holy crap, Rourke said, repeating the curse he’d learned from Evan. "Maybe—it is time for worry."

Yes, Antinee said with a nod. I’d suggest when your tribe gets back from the melon fields, get together a small group, like a hunting party, and take a closer look. Really poke around. I didn’t stay long enough to do a thorough search.

Rourke nodded. Keep it small, stick with ‘hunting party’ story, and not cause alarm until we get more knowledge.

The men sat a moment in contemplative silence. Antinee took a sip of his tea. You know, you look more like your father every time I see you.

With a shrug, Rourke shook off the implications. But I am nothing like him. I am an architect, he said, remembering the great word Evan had used to describe his job.

Antinee seemed to disagree. No doubt, a good architect. That doesn’t mean you can’t be like him.

But I’m not, he said in a colder tone, hinting this line of conversation was over.

A few silent moments passed before Antinee took another sip of tea and cleared his throat. So, this Evan fellow…, he threw out. I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with him.

What of it?

Have you learned anything useful from him?

Rourke felt a bit insulted. It is not at all like that. I’m duanta, in case you forgot, he said in a bristling tone.

Sorry, Antinee said as he offered up his palms. You don’t have to get defensive. I’m not trying to imply you’re using him. But, at least some of the time, you guys must talk….

With a hard look, Rourke replied, I didn’t ask if you mate with my aunt. Some things should be… quiet.

Antinee frowned. I’m not trying to pry into your private life. Damn it, Rourke, why are you so defensive this morning?

Rourke just shrugged.

And you know, I could care less about your homosexuality. Nor, do I think, does anybody else. I’m sure I mentioned before, the Chago tribe even has a duanta chief. No one seemed to be bothered by that idea.

Maybe not, Rourke said in a softer tone.

Antinee paused a moment for another sip of tea. Not that I’m trying to pry, but Idelle told me he’s living with you. Is this a serious thing?

After hesitating, Rourke finally nodded. I’m making beads for him. But don’t go talking about that. Need time for tribe to… adjust before telling the news.

Don’t worry about the tribe. Like I said, nobody cares who you bond with. And I’ll keep it private.

Anything else? Rourke asked as he finished off the last bit of cheese. I should get to the workshop now.

Antinee paused. And, just so you know, Idelle and I aren’t physical. Being a scout, I made the decision a long time ago that I’d only be a Fireside guy. It wouldn’t be fair to a bond-mate for me to only be around for short times, and I like your aunt too much to do that to her.

I don’t think she’s—happy about that idea.

I know, Antinee said before leaning forward conspiratorially. But, just between us, I’ve been thinking a lot about retiring. Getting too old for all this running around now. Austin might be a great place to settle down, he added.

Oh, Rourke replied before standing. I think—the tribe would like that, he said. I’m off to the workshop.

Have a good day, Antinee told him as he stood to go get some more tea.

Rourke waved as he headed to the alley, smiling over Antinee’s last statement. It would be nice if Idelle bonded again. She’d been alone for too many years now. His aunt had set aside her own widowed grief when she’d taken in the orphaned Rourke and Peenka. Without a complaint, Idelle put her own life as—what was the word she used?—cartographer on hold to raise us. It’s about time she got back to living.

He grinned as he approached the workshop door, remembering the great time he had shared with Evan the night before. He’d heard stories that sex could be like that but had never hoped to experience it himself. The warm glow he still felt left Rourke even more determined to bond with Evan.

Stepping into the shop, he thought he should have just enough time to finish his bonding beads before the work crew arrived later in the morning.

AS MORNING sun streamed through the window, Evan stirred awake. He sat up and blinked when he realized Rourke had already left. He quickly dressed and left the house, hurrying to get back to the shelter. He still had much work to do there, preparing new doses of the retrovirus for the other shelter members. The genetic scan on Peenka should also be finished, and he was eager to see the results.

He made his way through the jungle and into the shelter without incident. No one greeted him at the door, so he skipped down the flight of stairs to the next level.

The beeping sound echoing through the hallway drew Evan’s attention as he neared the lab. It sounded like the alert chime from one of the scanning computers, so he rushed across the hall to retrieve the key from its hiding place inside the headphone speaker foam. Hurriedly, he returned to the lab door, unlocked it, and then opened the door to investigate.

From the doorway, he could see the little yellow tag flashing off and on over an entry on one of the scanner readouts. He rushed over to read it. The alert appeared on the scan he’d set up yesterday for the water sample taken from the jungle stream. Highlighted under the flashing entry, Evan saw a word that sent a shivery chill down his spine. Cesium.

Cesium? Evan uttered aloud as he gawked at the monitor. What in the hell?

As he gazed at the yellow alert still flashing, he dropped into the console chair, trying to recall his earlier chemistry studies. He remembered cesium was one of the softer, lower-boiling-point metals. The dangerous metal had several radioactive varieties, but the property that really defined it, the property that caused the spinal chill in Evan, was that it had a very nasty pyrophoric habit. The element could violently combust in the presence of oxygen.

Holy fuck. And this shit is in the water.

Not in dangerous amounts, according to the computer, which had only rated the tiny traces of cesium hydroxide as a yellow-level warning. But still….

Cesium? Evan had to fight a sudden gag reflex from the memory of drinking the water. No wonder the tribe avoided the stream. Long-term exposure would lead to many