Stocky sat in the reception lounge on break. It took longer than expected to rig additional alarms and sterilize Sci-Med. So when they had finished, they chose to take a short break to eat a light snack Patterson had prepared before the boarding party. The main course was a greens heavy salad with a sherry vinaigrette and with some falafel wafers seasoned with fresh herbs and ramps. They also indulged in a bowl of anchoiade on croutons made from the leftover bread they had used for Holy Communion the day before boarding the derelict. The scientists ate quick so that they could get back to work, but they let him help himself to a larger meal.

He was famished and ate heartily. Besides, greens didn’t bother him one bit. Although they lacked some of the rich flavors of meats and dairy, they were still filled with wholesome nutrition. He wondered why humans ate so much oligosaccharide and polysaccharide rich foods though because their digestive tract barely worked. And, even if they could better digest such foods, they couldn’t convert the extra sugars into vitamin C.

At least they didn’t build me with their flaws.

He mixed the extra anchoiade in with the salad. The fat within the fish paste gave an incredible richness. He scarfed most of it but put a small portion leftover in the refrigerator because they were now working and he should be too. He was also afraid that they might scold him if he ate everything. He might have eaten too much as it was.

“How are we coming along?” Stocky asked Chandna as he checked in across the Reception counter.

Chandna glanced up from his desk, only making momentary eye contact. It seemed as if he wished to remain focused on his train of thought, and that his question was a bother. “Yes,” he sighed and then he looked back down. “We’re making progress. It’s steady; I’m not expecting a sudden breakthrough. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle, it must come together piece by piece. And that will take longer with Fuller gone.”

Stocky was worried about that too. Losing 25% of the team was a big hit. The stress on all of them would be harder now. Chandna had handled the pressure in an exemplary manner. Stocky acknowledged that he now respected him much more than when they had boarded the alien derelict. But the old guy had to run out of steam at some point.

Stocky then watched Patterson reviewing records on a microscope viewscreen. She was also focused on their work, sitting with her legs crossed in a relaxed manner. She hadn’t tied her hair back and its rich red notes captured the light as it lay naturally. He watched her silently for a moment, admiring the shine in her hair and silky skin. She was calm and methodical. She wasn’t panicked from the crisis and he was glad about that. He didn’t want to be alone.

He thought about her in the trunk. She climbed in easily, with grace. And she didn’t flinch at holding it alone. Yet it wasn’t because of hubris. She thought her way through the problem, tossing flares down the shafts so that the cast shadows would warn her about which was being used. She was capable in ways that he had never seen in a human.

He deeply breathed in her scent, remembering her naked body in the shower. His pulse spiked. He remembered her hands working the soap on her skin, and her wet hair curling over her body. He remembered how the water ran off her breasts when she bent over to soap her legs. He saw their subtle swaying and bouncing as she moved. They contorted so seductively when she pressed against De Silva while helping him, and he would have given anything to have her against himself.

He watched her hands glide across her skin the whole time she soaped her legs. (It was strangely enticing to see her hands glide up and down her legs.) He had glanced again and again toward her hips – which formed part of a delightful curve from her ribs, through her seductive waist and hips. But he looked for more. He knew it was wrong, but the urge was irresistible. He simply had to have one look where he could see her fully as a woman. To know how she was built in between her legs. And if he had gotten one look he knew he would have needed more.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

He forced himself out of his trance. Why do I feel like this? He had met lots of humans and they didn’t differ much – they were all unreliable and borderline incompetent. There was no rational explanation for why he was insatiably drawn to her. Why did she fill him with such tension – at once delightful and unbearable.

Yet she was somehow attractive and admirable. He almost needed to have her intimately close. He wanted her body pressed against his own flesh. He wanted to know what it was like to have his hands rubbing over every inch of her silky skin, her hot panting breath tickling his own flesh, and to feel the warmth of being inside of her too.

She turned toward him and he flinched from the realization of danger. He hadn’t thought that she was aware of his presence. Are you human? He crossed his hands over his crotch in a (hopefully) discreet manner while his pulse spiked. He waited for the shame of discovery.

She smiled and kicked her chair away from her desk. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said looking into his eyes. “I would like you to investigate that controller card that was pulled out of Systems Access. TURING is running tests on it in the Isolab, and you will perform the engineering second check.”

“Do we know what that slime is?” His pulse relaxed somewhat.

“The organic components are nothing unusual. Polysaccharides, glycolipids, glycoproteins – the typical stuff. The samples had highly varying concentrations of alien cells. I’m watching if that changes over time. However, I’ve found large concentrations of electrically conductive filaments suspended in the substance. They seem to interact with one another to switch themselves on or off. I would like you to observe their action from an engineering perspective.”

He was intrigued by her statement. He normally didn’t associate electrical switches with biological goo. And he also didn’t have as much electrical engineering knowledge as some of the others on the Nineveh. “Wouldn’t you prefer Nieves or Samoylova for electrical work?”

She shook her head. “I doubt either one of them are willing to work with this stuff. I know that you work in mechanical more. But you’ve done a lot of electrical work over the years too, and I trust your competence.”

He looked in her eyes and saw none of the fear and bewilderment that he had seen lately in others. She meant what she said and it warmed him inside. “And I trust yours. What did you determine when you looked at it?”

“I’ve been more focused on alien cell cultures. Trying to learn what all they can do and manipulate them for our advantage. I’ve only taken a short look at the filaments, but they’re interesting. Go investigate the board. Then reconfigure it and examine it again from an engineering perspective. We can talk after that.”

“I’ll need to pull up the specs and datasheets. Do you have a spare tablet I can use?”

“I do, but you can just have TURING pull them up on one of the wall displays. I’ve instructed TURING to recognize you as a Chief Laboratory Technician, and to give you all privileges.”

“Alright. I’ll get suited up – full protection. Hail me in the Isolab if you need me.”

He went into storage and got his overshoes, gloves, and bubblesuit. The possibility of infection was a greater worry on his mind than it had been before. Just as Chandna had said, the pace of their work would slow. And he had two bullet injuries to mind. Her pressurized his suit and made sure it held the air in before taking the lift to the second deck, and then taking the other one to the Isolab.

Chanda and Patterson had many experiments running, each within its own glovestation. The polymer gloves were pulled out and hanging over the front of the station in each case. A little measure to keep what was within from chewing through the weakest material. The number of stations running was impressive, but it was likely lingering efforts from when Fuller was with them.

Some of the animals inside the stations peered through the transparent screens included within all of them. Their heads pivoted to follow him as he walked though the lab to find his job. His mind conjured fantasies that they were just waiting for him to be distracted and then they would claw and chew their way out of their gloveboxes to assault him. He knew they were just animals – lizards, ducks, chickens, and rats – but their coordination was unnerving. And so he was compelled to spot check the locking fasteners and glove integrity as he went by.

He found his task in such a workstation and knew he couldn’t perform the functional verification on it in there. He would have to work on a shelf and just make certain he sterilized the area before leaving. He staged alcohol and an EUV emitter for that purpose. And then he staged a power supply and other electrical test equipment while TURING displayed the technical documentation on the station’s display. He would operate the circuit card after studying the documentation. He didn’t want to have it outside of its containment box for long.