She crouched down before the bio-recovery unit of a fingerling who’d been brought to me with a damaged tail and some bite-marks. “A leaf is adhered to it,” she said, looking at me accusingly.

“It’s medical,” I told her.

She shook her head. “No, look. It’s a leaf.”

I nodded, then indicated toward her leg. “Volett,” I said, slowly. “It is good for increasing blood-flow, and will stay on even when you’re in the water.”

She looked at me, then her leg, then the fish. “Are you a medical responder for unaware beings?”

“I help sea life,” I agreed, hoping that would prevent misunderstandings.

“And me,” she said, her eyes huge as she stared at me, her lips so full and flushed, parted ever so slightly. As I watched, her tongue flicked out tentatively, the briefest flicker of pink. Heat rushed through me and I tore my eyes away. It wasn’t appropriate for a patient to stir such feelings, even if we were biologically compatible.

“You needed help. I helped.” I cleared my aching throat. I had no right to lust after her. If she came back, later… I cleared my throat again. “This one should be ready to release soon.”

She turned her gaze back to the fingerling, slowing her pace to watch the fish. Her shifting attention allowing me to observe her unusual roundness, the soft pillows of her body that felt so lovely against me. The clothing she wore was not protective. The darkness of it was made more pronounced by the water it appeared to hold onto. The cloth clung to her fragile skin like the Volett leaf. I could see every dip and ripple of her short, but generous body.

My mouth watered.

My eyes traced the dip of her spine, the curve of her behind, the dimples in her thighs and the valley behind her knees. The backs of her legs rippled like the sandbars after a storm. I swallowed and tore my eyes away, but the peaks and troughs of her were seared into my lids.

She was injured, and in my care. It had been years since I’d had romantic company, but those years had been fulfilling, even joyous, and I hadn’t felt the lack of partner.

This poor woman had just had her life torn apart. Who knew who she’d lost, what she had left. The Call was rarely without cost. The nagging irritation in the lead-up, the navigation as you needed to identify what, exactly, your Calling was. One day, we’d learn more about the Heartbeat that stabilised the galaxy and fuelled this planet as well as providing the source of its biobeacons that ensured ongoing, high level care of the entire system. One day, we’d decode the biobeacon so it could be read like a holotext, rather than interpreted like a nagging worry. For today… I was simply here to ensure she survived and continued along her way.

As if she was the Heartbeat, though, my gaze drew inexorably back. My throat felt too tight as my eyes drew upward, this time, over the roundness of her belly and the peaks of her breast tissue, to her beautiful neck where tendrils of fine, dark hair curled against her strangely pale skin.

Creases in her skin begged to be traced. Her bones formed a beautiful vee at the base of her throat that I couldn’t see from this angle, but I knew was there.

You shouldn’t look at injured beings.

She had control of her faculties now, though, and for the next few hours. I couldn’t help but notice her bone structure and flesh created pleasing forms.

Her jaw was painfully delicate. It was one of the first things I’d noticed when I’d thrown the torn pieces of steel off her. The wreck was huge, and the fires had been high, but one outflung arm had caught my eye. And there she’d been. Pale, dirty, and half-covered by rubble, needing my assistance every bit as much as the fingerling she was staring at now. Unlike the fingerling, she’d have external help soon enough. The thought was unsettling. I followed, with my eyes, the line of her jaw and the curve of her cheek. Her lips were curved up, now, in amusement.

Horror struck me as I saw she was watching me watch her in the reflection of the tank. I swallowed again, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“I should identify how to leave,” she said, and while the translator smoothed the jumble of sounds that came from her mouth, it kept the tone. Amusement, but also, the first trace of concern.

I was glad she was coming back to herself, and glad that she had the usual survival reflexes, even if hers seemed to have been buried beneath the pain.

“Whenever you want, I can take you to the city,” I told her, keeping my worry to myself at that idea. “Or I can summon the Refugee Support Services.”

I only had a week or so before the Heartfins migrated, and preparation would take every moment of my time. Their numbers had been reduced in a storm, and were crucial to maintain for the Heartbeat’s health. No other fish was as efficient at eating the Unngild forests that could choke the Heartlines and congest our ability to sustainably harvest the biofuels.

“Population centre?” she repeated, frowning. “There’s a city?”

“There is.” I considered picking up the net now, but I was exhausted, and threading the fine, stretchy fibres into the correct shape made my digits ache just to think about. “Did you want to see it?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I was treated to a view of her tongue and a single row of teeth that curved with her delicate jaw, an unbroken pattern of them. She closed her mouth, and I drew in a deep, patient breath. She didn’t know what that meant, I could only assume. She didn’t know how she was affecting me and I needed to keep it that way.

“I have no currency.”

I considered the ship she’d crashed on. Likely there was something they’d be able to repair so she could access her financials. The Heartland was well placed to support her even if that failed. “You’ve been registered with the support service,” I assured her. “They know of your injuries and the location of your landing. They’ll help you find your purpose.”

When I’d first found her, I hadn’t hesitated to provide first aid. Once I was confident she was stable, I’d followed standard protocol to report it all. They knew she was physically well and in my care.

But I hadn’twantedto tell anyone. And the thought of them arriving, of taking her away for scans, questionnaires, and instructional holo-vids made my belly feel tight. It didn’t make sense, so I ignored it.