Page 35 of Technically Abducted (Nereidan Compatibility Program #4)

Finn

"This is either brilliant or completely insane," I say, watching Alex's fingers fly across his keyboard as he adds another layer to our digital message.

"Why not both?" Alex grins without looking up from his screen. "The best plans usually are."

It's been a week since the revelation about Alex's abduction, and we've spent every evening since then hunched over our computers, building something that's guaranteed to get alien attention.

The plan is elegantly simple in concept, terrifyingly complex in execution: create a self-replicating program that spreads our message through every system we have legitimate access to, ensuring it can't be contained or quietly swept under the rug.

"Remind me again why we're not just posting 'I was abducted by aliens' on social media like every other conspiracy theorist?" I ask, taking a sip of coffee that's gone cold hours ago.

"Because social media gets dismissed as crazy people looking for attention," Alex replies, still typing. "This is different. This spreads through actual infrastructure networks, using our legitimate client access points. Every system we've ever worked on becomes a distribution node."

A few of the gems sit on my desk between our laptops, their alien beauty a constant reminder of what this is really about.

I'd kept three as mementos and sold the rest—enough money to set up my clients for years.

The transfers went out three days ago, donations that let Rosa upgrade her entire restaurant system, gave Juniper the capital to expand her business, and provided safety nets for all the others who'd depended on me.

They needed to be taken care of, no matter what happened to me.

"You know this is going to burn our entire lives to the ground, right?" I say, watching Alex refine the replication algorithm. "If this works, if it gets their attention, we can't exactly go back to normal afterward."

"What normal?" Alex looks up at me with an expression that's half-desperate, half-determined. "You think you're going back to normal after what happened? You think I can keep pretending that decade-old 'hallucination' was just my brain misfiring?"

He's right, of course. The past month has been an exercise in going through the motions while feeling like I'm sleepwalking through someone else's life.

Every client call, every system repair, every mundane interaction with the human world feels hollow and meaningless compared to three days of genuine connection with someone who saw the universe through completely different eyes.

"Fair point," I concede. "So walk me through it one more time. Make sure we're not missing anything."

Alex cracks his knuckles and points to his primary monitor. "We deploy the code through every client system we have access to—restaurants, online stores, small businesses, all connected to larger networks. The program replicates and spreads organically, using normal internet infrastructure."

"Like a virus, but with a message instead of malicious payload," I nod.

"Exactly. It doesn't damage anything, just displays our message and then copies itself to connected systems. Within hours, it'll be everywhere—corporate networks, government systems, research institutions. Impossible to contain once it starts spreading."

"And the message?"

Alex pulls up the text we've been refining all week: "Assessment subject Finn Sullivan was returned to Earth after forming an empathic bond with researcher Tev'ra. Minor was abducted ten years ago by inexperienced Nereidan. We demand answers about unauthorized alien contact programs."

I study the words that represent our digital declaration of war. "You think mentioning the minor thing will get their attention?"

"Finn, if there's one thing that'll make them panic, it's the suggestion that someone took a kid without authorization. That's the kind of protocol violation that would have their entire oversight system scrambling for answers. At least that's what I'm assuming."

Alex has a point. The message is specific enough to prove we have inside knowledge, explosive enough to trigger immediate investigation, and personal enough to ensure Tev'ra gets dragged into whatever follows.

"Timeline?" I ask.

"Code's ready now. We just need to pick our deployment time and pull the trigger." Alex pauses, his expression growing serious. "You sure about this, Finn? Once we do this, there's no going back. Either we get answers, or we paint massive targets on our backs."

I look at the remaining gems, thinking about Tev'ra's reluctant expression when he handed them over.

Standard compensation, he'd said, like our connection could be reduced to a business transaction.

Like three days of falling in love with someone could be balanced out with pretty stones and a return to our previous isolation.

"I'm sure," I say. "But Alex, I need you to understand something.

This isn't just about getting answers or exposing the truth.

I'm in love with him. With Tev'ra. And there's a chance—a slim chance—that if we make enough noise, we might find out there are other options. Other ways this could have ended."

Alex stops typing and looks at me with an expression that's surprisingly gentle. "You think they might bring you back?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe they'll just be pissed that we broke their secrecy and decide to deal with us permanently." I shrug. "But sitting here accepting that this is just how it ends... I can't do that. Not when there might be a chance."

"And for me," Alex says quietly, "this is about finally understanding what happened.

Why that scared young alien helped me instead of just sending me back with memory modification or whatever.

Why I got clean when every other attempt had failed.

" He trails off, shaking his head. "I need to know, Finn.

I've built my entire adult life on something I thought was a hallucination. "

We sit in silence for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts. The code on Alex's screen continues to evolve, self-modifying subroutines ensuring maximum spread and minimal detectability until it's too late to stop.

"You know what the weirdest part is?" Alex says eventually. "If this works, if we actually make contact again, we might be the first humans to willingly seek out alien contact instead of just getting abducted."

"The first ones to fight back instead of just accepting whatever they decide for us," I agree.

"Think they'll be impressed or pissed?"

"Probably both," I say, remembering Tev'ra's fascination with human innovation methods. "Their whole thing is studying how humans solve problems. Well, this is how we solve the problem of being dismissed and sent away."

Alex grins. "Adaptive problem-solving under pressure. Sounds like exactly the kind of thing they wanted to assess."

My phone buzzes with a text from Rosa: New system is incredible! Thank you for recommending the upgrade. Business is booming.

I smile despite everything. At least my clients are taken care of.

"Ready to deploy?" Alex asks, his hand hovering over the enter key.

"Wait," I say, looking at the message one more time. "If this works, if they bring us back... there's a chance we might not return to Earth again."

"I know," Alex says simply. "You okay with that?"

I think about my empty apartment, my isolated existence, the hollow routine of my life before Tev'ra. Then I think about floating in warm alien waters while someone who cared about me described the wonders of his world.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm okay with that."

"Good," Alex says, his finger poised over the key that will change everything. "Because we're about to show them exactly what humans do when we want answers."

He hits enter.

Across the screen, status indicators begin lighting up green as our code spreads through system after system, carrying our message into the digital infrastructure of the world. Within minutes, it'll be replicating across continents. Within hours, it'll be everywhere.

There's no going back now.

"Think your blue alien will be proud of you for fighting back?" Alex asks, watching the deployment spread.

I consider this, remembering Tev'ra's reaction when I beat his assessment score, the way his bioluminescence brightened when I adapted to unexpected challenges. "I think he'll be surprised. But yeah, maybe proud too."

"Good," Alex says, leaning back in his chair as our digital rebellion spreads across the world. "Because in a few hours, they're going to know exactly what happens when you try to send humans away with pretty rocks and expect us to stay quiet about it."

I watch the replication counters climb exponentially, each number representing another system carrying our message, another step toward forcing the conversation they thought they could avoid.

Normal was never really an option anyway.

Not after loving someone who lives among the stars.