Page 16

KAVAN

T he resonance chamber hummed with ancient energy as I watched Selene work. Her fingers traced patterns along the wall console, her markings responding with subtle light each time she touched the right sequence. The guardian automaton hovered at the periphery, its faceted body refracting the chamber's blue illumination across her face.

"I think I found something," she called, excitement brightening her eyes. "Look at this."

I moved beside her, close enough that her scent—the unique human fragrance I'd come to recognize instantly—filled my awareness. The screen displayed schematics of an apparatus I'd never seen before, despite my extensive healer's training.

"What is it?" I asked, deliberately keeping my voice steady despite her proximity.

"Some kind of neural resonance matrix," she replied, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. I fought the urge to do it for her. "If I'm interpreting these correctly, it's designed for direct knowledge exchange between individuals."

"The ancients wrote of such devices," I said. "Meant to transfer specialized healing knowledge across language barriers."

Her eyes met mine, a smile curving her lips. "You mean like a human doctor and a Nyxari healer who struggle to translate precise medical terms?"

My lifelines warmed beneath my skin. "Precisely like that."

She turned back to the display, and I allowed myself a moment to admire her profile—the determined set of her jaw, the intelligence in her eyes as she deciphered the ancient technology. Despite the danger surrounding us, despite Hammond's hunters and the acid storm raging above, I found myself increasingly distracted by her presence.

"This section here," she said, pointing to glyphs along the bottom of the display. "Can you read it?"

I leaned closer, my chest nearly touching her back. The proximity sent my lifelines flickering with golden light. If she noticed, she gave no indication.

"It speaks of 'pathways between minds' and 'bridges across understanding,'" I translated. "And a warning—'prepare completely or risk dissonance.'"

"A warning?" Her brow furrowed in that way I found oddly endearing.

"Ancient technology wasn't without risk," I explained. "Particularly when designed for direct interface."

The guardian drifted closer, its geometric body reconfiguring as it assessed our interaction with the console. The automaton had become less threatening since recognizing Selene's markings, now behaving more like a curious observer than a defensive sentinel.

"Look," she said suddenly, pointing to an alcove that had opened in the far wall. "It wasn't visible before."

Inside the alcove stood what appeared to be twin chairs formed of a smooth, translucent material, facing each other, connected by an arching framework of the same substance. The entire apparatus glowed with faint internal light that brightened as we approached.

"The Aschan Diadem," I breathed, recognizing it from ancient texts. "I thought it merely legend."

"What is it?" Selene moved toward the device, her hand outstretched. Her markings brightened as she neared the glowing structure.

"A way to bind minds to minds, designed to share medical knowledge between practitioners from different settlements easily." I followed her, my tail swishing with unease. "The elders speak of it in reverent tones—a technology so advanced it could transfer years of medical expertise in a single session."

The guardian automaton circled the apparatus, its gleaming body emitting a harmonic tone that resonated with the chamber walls. The sound vibrated through my chest, strangely intimate.

"Could it help us communicate better?" Selene asked, examining the chairs without touching them. "Beyond what the translation stones provide?"

"Potentially." I studied the apparatus more closely. "The stones translate words. This transfers concepts, understandings, directly from mind to mind. But primarily for medical knowledge—it wasn't designed for general communication."

Her eyes lit with scientific curiosity—that passionate intensity I'd come to admire. "The applications would be revolutionary. Imagine sharing surgical techniques without language barriers, or transferring pharmacological knowledge without translation errors."

"The risks would be significant," I cautioned. "Particularly with an ancient, potentially damaged system."

My warning didn't dampen her enthusiasm. She circled the apparatus, inspecting each component with methodical attention. I found myself watching her movements instead of the technology—the graceful efficiency in her steps, the way her markings caught the light when she gestured.

"The designs indicate a temporary connection," she noted. "Not permanent integration."

"Yes," I agreed, forcing my attention back to the apparatus. "The texts describe it as a 'bridging of minds' rather than a merging."

She looked up at me, her expression suddenly serious. "Would you consider trying it? With me?"

The question struck me with unexpected force. My lifelines flared under my skin, responding to something deeper than mere surprise.

"You would trust such ancient technology?" I asked carefully.

"I trust you," she replied simply.

Those three words resonated through me with greater impact than any interface could achieve. My lifelines brightened visibly beneath my emerald skin, the response impossible to hide.

"Then I would consider it," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "But we should fully understand the process first."

She nodded, turning back to the interface. "Of course. I'm a doctor—I don't rush into experimental procedures without thorough research."

Together, we examined the ancient systems, piecing together instructions from fragmented texts and diagrams. The guardian automaton assisted in unexpected ways—illuminating specific controls when we hesitated, blocking access to damaged sections.

As we worked, our hands occasionally brushed. Each contact sent currents through my lifelines, distracting me from the technical challenge. I noticed similar reactions in her markings—subtle pulses of silver light when our skin met, however briefly.

Hours passed as we decoded the ancient system's operation. The storm continued raging above, occasional tremors vibrating through the facility. Each time, I positioned myself protectively near Selene, my body instinctively shielding her from potential debris.

During one particularly strong tremor, she stumbled against me. My arms closed around her automatically, steadying her. For a moment, we remained frozen in that position—her back pressed against my chest, my hands at her waist.

"Thank you," she murmured, making no immediate move to step away.

"Of course," I replied, equally reluctant to release her.

The moment stretched between us, charged with unspoken awareness. Finally, she stepped forward, returning to the console with renewed focus. My body felt the absence of her warmth immediately.

"I think it's ready," she announced eventually, surveying our preparations. "We've bypassed the damaged sections and reconfigured the interface for our physiologies."

The Aschan Diadem hummed with energy, the twin chairs of shaped light glowing intensely. The apparatus radiated both invitation and warning—ancient technology awakening after centuries of dormancy.

"The process requires sustained physical contact," I noted, reading the instructions we'd decoded. "To maintain synchronization."

"That shouldn't be a problem," she said, though I detected a slight elevation in her heart rate.

"It also mentions potential... side effects," I added, studying the glyphs more carefully.

"What kind of side effects?"

"The interface stimulates the pathways involved in learning and memory, but also those associated with emotional response and physical sensation." I met her gaze directly. "The ancients found that personal connection enhanced knowledge transfer—trust, rapport, and even... attraction... strengthened the neural bridges."

Color rose in her cheeks—a fascinating human response I'd observed before but never fully understood. "You mean it might intensify whatever feelings already exist between the participants?"

"Yes." I saw no reason to be anything but honest. "The system doesn't create what isn't there, but it may enhance what is."

Her eyes held mine, something unspoken passing between us. "I'm willing to accept that risk if you are."

My tail swished behind me, betraying an emotional response I couldn't fully suppress. "Then we proceed carefully."

We positioned ourselves in the glowing chairs, facing each other. The seats adjusted to our different physiologies, reshaping to provide optimal support. Thin, glowing filaments extended from the arching framework, connecting to our temples with gentle pressure.

"Remember to focus on medical knowledge," I instructed as the system hummed to life. "Diagnostic techniques, treatment protocols, healing properties of plants."

She nodded, her expression composed though her quickened pulse revealed her nervousness. "How do we start?"

"Physical contact initiates the process," I explained, extending my hands. "Palm to palm is the traditional position."

Selene placed her hands against mine, her fingers significantly smaller yet fitting perfectly against my broader palms. The moment our skin connected, both our markings illuminated—her silver patterns meeting my golden lifelines in synchronous rhythm.

"Oh," she breathed, eyes widening at the sensation.

The filaments of light at our temples warmed, beginning to pulse with the same rhythm as our markings. Energy flowed between us, a tingling current that carried information along its path.

I felt her medical knowledge begin to filter into my consciousness—surgical techniques I'd never learned, diagnostic approaches from her Earth training, pharmaceutical compounds unknown in Nyxari medicine. The information arrived as intuitive understanding rather than memorized facts.

"I can see it," she whispered, wonder in her voice. "The relationship between the sunburst vine and cardiac regulation. The healing properties of the blue moss. It's not just information—I understand it."

The connection deepened as the system stabilized. Our hands remained pressed together, the contact point glowing with intermingled light. I became increasingly aware of Selene beyond the medical knowledge transferring between us—her breathing pattern, the subtle shifts in her expression, the warmth of her skin against mine.

"The resonance is stronger than anticipated," I observed, my voice lower than intended.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "I can feel your expertise with wound binding and bone setting. And your understanding of Arenix plant properties is... extraordinary."

A particularly strong pulse flowed through the connection, causing her to gasp. Her fingers interlaced with mine instinctively, deepening our physical contact. The response was immediate—a surge of sensation that had nothing to do with medical knowledge.

"The system is encouraging stronger connection," I explained, struggling to maintain clinical detachment as waves of awareness washed through me. "The ancients discovered that integration functioned most effectively when participants formed... deeper bonds."

"Of course they did," she replied, a smile playing at her lips despite the intensity of the moment. "Efficient design."

Another surge flowed between us, stronger than before. Selene's markings brightened dramatically, silvery light tracing patterns across her skin that matched my own lifelines with uncanny precision. I felt my control slipping as the interface amplified every subtle attraction I'd been carefully containing since we'd met.

"Selene," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "The interface is enhancing physical and emotional responses. If you wish to stop?—"

"I don't," she interrupted, her gaze direct and unwavering. "Do you?"

The question hung between us, weighted with meaning beyond the interface. My lifelines pulsed with golden fire beneath my skin in response to both the technology and the woman before me.

"No," I admitted finally. "I do not wish to stop."

She rose from her chair, maintaining the connection between our hands. I stood as well, the difference in our heights more apparent as she tilted her head to maintain eye contact. The crystal filaments stretched to accommodate our movement, the interface adjusting to our new position.

"The most effective knowledge transfer occurs with maximized contact," I said, the technical explanation feeling increasingly inadequate for what was happening between us.

"Is that your professional opinion, Healer?" she asked, stepping closer until barely a breath separated us.

"It is," I replied, my free hand moving of its own accord to her waist.

Her silver markings brightened at my touch, sending corresponding pulses through my lifelines. The interface amplified the connection, creating feedback loops of sensation that blurred the boundaries between medical knowledge and personal desire.

"Then perhaps we should ensure optimal transfer conditions," she suggested, her hand sliding up my arm to trace the lifelines on my shoulder.

The touch sent electricity through pathways I hadn't known existed. My tail curled around her leg almost involuntarily, an instinctive gesture of possession that made her eyes widen in surprise, then darken with something else entirely.

"Selene," I whispered, no longer pretending this was merely about knowledge transfer. "I have wanted?—"

"I know," she interrupted, rising onto her toes as her hand moved to the back of my neck. "I've felt it through the connection. Just as you've felt what I want."

The truth of her words resonated through our linked minds. The interface had stripped away pretense, revealing desires we'd both been carefully containing. My hand tightened at her waist, drawing her closer as I bent toward her.

"The interface will register everything," I warned, giving her one final chance to reconsider.

She smiled, her fingers threading through my hair. "Good. Then neither of us can pretend this didn't happen afterward."

When our lips met, the interface flared with blinding intensity. Silver and gold light enveloped us as the connection deepened beyond medical knowledge into something far more profound. Her mouth moved against mine with surprising certainty, her body arching to press more fully against me.

The guardian automaton circled us once, its crystalline body shifting to a deep blue configuration before retreating to the chamber's edge. The apparatus hummed with approval, pathways forming and strengthening between us.

My hands moved to frame her face, mindful of my strength against her more delicate structure. Her skin felt impossibly smooth beneath my palms, her warmth seeping into me. Through the neural connection, I sensed her reaction to my touch—the pleasure centers in her brain illuminating with each point of contact.

Her hands weren't idle, exploring my chest and shoulders with increasing boldness. When her fingers traced a primary lifeline at my collarbone, the sensation nearly buckled my knees. She smiled against my mouth, clearly sensing my reaction through our connection.

"Too much?" she whispered, her breath warm against my lips.

"Not enough," I growled, the sound rumbling from deep in my chest.

I lifted her, setting her at the edge of the console. The filaments stretched to maintain contact with our temples, the interface adjusting to our movement. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer as her hands continued their exploration beneath my tunic.

"The transfer requires approximately fifteen more minutes for completion," I noted, glancing at the interface readout behind her.

"Then we should use the time efficiently," she replied, her fingers finding the sensitive junction where my lifelines converged at my shoulder.

I groaned at the contact, my control fraying further. Through our connection, I sensed her satisfaction at drawing such a response from me—and her desire to elicit more.

"," she murmured against my neck, her voice sending new currents through my already oversensitized body. "I want?—"

"I know," I interrupted, the interface having made her desires crystal clear. "I want the same."

Her eyes met mine, desire mingling with unexpected vulnerability. "Not just because of this." She gestured to the interface still connecting us. "I've wanted this—you—since before."

"As have I," I admitted, the truth flowing easily now. "From the moment I saw you heal that first patient with such care, such precision—your hands moving like you'd been trained by my own people."

She smiled, the expression transforming her face in ways that made my breath catch. "Then stop talking and kiss me again."

I complied willingly, claiming her mouth with newfound urgency. My tail tightened around her calf, drawing her closer as my hands mapped the contours of her body through her clothing. The bond enhanced every sensation, creating feedback loops of pleasure that intensified with each touch.

The system chimed softly, indicating the final phase of knowledge transfer. Our markings—her silver, my gold—created patterns of light between us that cast elaborate shadows across the chamber walls. The guardian automaton observed from a distance, its crystalline body pulsing in rhythm with our synchronized heartbeats.

"," Selene whispered against my mouth, her voice breaking with need. "Don't make me wait any longer."