Biologically, throwbacks were quite different from modern Calluvians. The surl’kh’tu had been intersex, and although throwbacks weren’t intersex, they retained the ability to produce natural lubrication when they were aroused. It had always been just an irrelevant little fact to Harry. He still didn’t understand what it had to do with anything.
“I fail to see how it’s relevant to the subject at hand,” Ksar said, as if reading Harry’s thoughts. For all Harry knew, he could well be.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Seyn murmured, his body very still against Harry. “It’s been scientifically proven that the surl’kh’tu were very selective. They had a single mate throughout their life. Scientists think that’s why they eventually went extinct—they were too selective. If their mate died, they didn’t take another mate.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked, his ears ringing as he stared at Seyn. He didn’t understand.
“Indeed,” Borg’gorn said. “Moreover, it has been proven by the Rivixu Institute scientists that after the first act of mating, a surl’kh’tu’s body produced a certain hormone that made them… physically need their mate.” The AI actually sounded awkward. “A most fascinating biological mechanism that ensured reproduction and survival. It has been theorized that this evolutionary trait was formed as a response to a rapidly growing population of the derv’kh’tu, a telepathic subspecies of archaic Calluvians, moving into their habitat. But it wasn’t enough—as we all know, the derv’kh’tu eventually displaced the surl’kh’tu. It was thought that the surl’kh’tu were out-competed and became extinct before the derv’kh’tu evolved into modern Calluvians, but the existence of throwbacks suggests that the two subspecies interbred to some extent.”
Harry shook his head, his mind reeling. Borg’gorn’s words didn’t make sense. “But he wasn’t—he’s a Terran.” He couldn’t even say Adam’s name.
Borg’gorn said carefully, “I do not think it matters, Your Highness. Although there have not been precedents of crossbreeding between Terrans and Calluvians, crossbreeding should be within the realms of possibility.”
Harry licked his lips, for a moment allowing himself to imagine children with Adam’s smile and dark eyes. His chest hurt, because it would never happen.
“Surely you don’t believe it has anything to do with Harht?” Ksar said sharply. “My brother isn’t a surl’kh’tu. They’re long extinct. He just happens to have a few common traits with them.”
Borg’gorn said, “We know that the surl’kh’tu traits are not equally strong in all throwbacks. Some throwbacks are barely different from most Calluvians while others share unusually many traits with the surl’kh’tu. It is not impossible for His Highness to share that particular biological trait with your ancestors—”
“Nonsense,” Ksar said. “The surl’kh’tu might have literally needed their mates, but there is no scientific proof that throwbacks share that trait with them. There have been no precedents.”
Seyn scoffed. “Of course there have been no precedents. Unlike us, the surl’kh’tu actually chose their mates. Throwbacks never had the same opportunity, because the Bonding Law was introduced soon after the first throwbacks were documented.”
“No one asked for your opinion,” Ksar said.
Seyn flushed with fury and glared at him. “I hate you so much,” he said with feeling. “Can’t wait to be free of you.”
For the first time since his return home, Harry remembered about the one-sided state of Seyn’s bond to Ksar. Since Seyn hadn’t told anyone about Ksar’s telepathy, they must have come to some sort of agreement. Probably. Harry wasn’t sure. He hadn’t cared enough to ask, and that spread the feeling of cold dread through his body. If he didn’t care even about his best friend and his brother’s future, what did it say about the state of his mind?
“But Seyn is right,” Harry said, trying to think. It was difficult. Thinking was difficult. It was so hard to focus. “What are the odds of being bonded to the person you would have chosen if you weren’t bonded? Probably extremely slim.”
“Maybe,” Ksar conceded, not even glancing at Seyn. He looked at Harry. “Let’s return to the subject at hand. Am I supposed to believe Harht can’t live without that Terran?”
A searing ache burned Harry’s insides at the mere mention of Adam. Harry struggled to focus on the conversation.
“As there are no precedents, I can only hypothesize,” Borg’gorn said. “But Prince Harht’s readings are most worrying. He may not necessarily die, but I do think his physical and mental health will keep deteriorating.” A pause. “May I speak freely, Prince Ksar?”
Ksar gave a clipped nod.
“I was going to inform you this evening that I had concerns about Prince Harht’s health. I have taken the liberty of observing the young prince since his return from Sol III. I have noticed that his concentration has been deteriorating at an alarming rate. Yesterday he spent six-point-three hours without moving, staring at nothing I could see. I had to say his name seven times to make him react. If the prince’s awareness of his surroundings keeps deteriorating at this rate, it is very likely that he will eventually fall into a comatose state, perhaps with a very limited awareness of his surroundings. I recommend daily injections of the surl’kh’tu hormone suppressants to make him more alert and focused, but it cannot be a long-term solution. Eventually they will stop working.”