Page 38 of Alien's Eternal Mate

I put my hand against her cheek. She sighed, eyes closing. My lips brushed her own. She surged forward, pressing her body against me and kissing me back hard.

I picked her up and carried her up the stairs, my mouth on her body the whole while. Soon nothing separated us at all. I slid on top of Arael, pinning her with my bulk as well as my passion.

After that night, two things changed. I no longer slept by the fire, and I was seldom late for dinner.

NINE

CARTER

The flywheel and the security door became the dual mysteries that formed the pillars of my research. And yet, I spent very little actual time working on either of them.

There were more practical considerations. When the water purification system went off line, for example, I spent three days straight getting it turned back on, completely forgetting my so-called pillars.

I also spent a lot of time with the Photonic flute. I’d created hundreds of images of Arael in the intervening months, preserving many with a photonic memory chip. The ones which were safe for viewing by outsiders decorated our home. The majority of my portraits of Arael were for our eyes only.

Arael took to bringing my lunch to me at the Sage’s tower. We would often eat together, and talk about our respective days. We also spoke often of the devices I worked with. Often, she would provide some small but clever insight which helped me solve the mystery, or at least make it somewhat clearer.

One day she entered the workshop while Igno and I had the flywheel suspended from a pulley system. I set down the bundle of wires I held and went to her. My heart soared as I tasted her lips.

She put her hand on my chest and gently pushed me away.

“You’re embarrassing Ignio. It’s not the Flowering Flood time, after all.”

I’d heard several mentions of the Flowering Flood. From context, I knew it to be some sort of celebration. I could have asked someone, or looked it up in the sages’ databases, but it always seemed something more important had to be done.

She jutted her chin toward the flywheel.

“What are you doing?”

“We are attempting to connect the flywheel to our central processing unit. However, the lack of any sort of ports to attach them physically has proved most vexing.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me, and then walked to the flywheel. I could tell Arael had that look in her eye again. The look of a profound insight dawning in her clever brain.

“This was designed not to have ports for a reason. Maybe it connects without a need for wires? Like the device you use to open our skylight on warm days.”

Wireless technology. I should have thought of it myself.

I picked up a scanner, a much cruder Masari version of a compad, and ran it over the flywheel, searching for possible connections. I found one and linked it up to the scanner.

The dark lights on the control panel flashed into brightness. The flywheel spun slowly, making a light humming noise.

I read the output on the scanner and grew excited.

Warm up diagnostic complete. AT Field generator functional. Tap zero for main menu.

“It’s working,” I said in a whisper. “It’s working!”

“I can see that,” Ignio gasped. “What does it do?”

“I have no idea!”

I laughed and kissed Arael deeply.

“Thank you, my sweet.”

“How can we know what this device does?” Ignio asked.

I turned halfway about to look him in the eye, still holding Arael.

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