Page 48 of The Alien in the Archive

Then–tucked into a Skoll text that mentions a child born of a Skoll female and a Borean male, I find it: Borean intimacy rituals.

They were a notoriously private species, and they destroyed most of their records and history, but I have to imagine that, when they were still engaging in intimacy, they did it the same way every species in the Pact does: Elixir Ceremonies. It’s the only time that any other species drinks Elixir—or, more accurately, an alchemical concoction that combines Elixir and DNA from those who want to get married.

At least, I think that’s what it means.

Humans aren’t too keen on the whole drinking-your-partner’s-DNA thing, so I’m not in the know.

But lucky for me, I’m friends with someone who knows a hell of a lot about Alpha Worlds genealogy…and I know just where to find her.

The Turitella isthe highest point in the Grand Library, a marvel of Merati engineering. Made of coral, gold, and marble, it’s also one of the most beautiful places on M’mir—boasting ten floors of archival material on the Merati royal lines, with a ten-story diving pool at its center. I’ve been wanting to visit, and now is finally the time.

I take the western lift system to the tower—one of the only lifts with railings at its edges. That doesn’t make it any less daunting as the lift rises and rises, passing floor after floor. Unlike my trips to the Obscuary, this lift is filled with scholars of all species, eagerly chatting about their work.

I step off of the lift at the very top, where I follow the other passengers down a coral hallway. Holograms of beautiful ocean vistas line the walls: painted horizons, sea floors, coral reefs, and chasms. I try not to look like a tourist as I walk, but I give up on trying when I enter the main tower.

It’s…absolutely gorgeous.

An enormous skylight caps the tower, painted as if you’re looking up at the surface of the ocean. The holograms from the hallway are everywhere here, projecting colorful fish swimming from place to place. Every accent is plated in gold, the floors made of rich, extravagant marble.

Thalara being a princess suddenly makes sense. Of course this is where a princess would work.

I look around for the information desk, where two immaculately dressed, stunningly beautiful Merati females are standing and working on tablets. One of them glances up and smiles at me when I approach, aquamarine eyes large and bright. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, feeling very much out of place. “I’m looking for Thalara Seviris?”

“Ah,” the Merati says. “Yes…I think she’s working in the fourth floor submerged stacks at the moment.”

I stare at her, unable to comprehend what the hell I’msupposed to do with that information. When she doesn’t offer an explanation, I speak up again.

“I can’t breathe underwater,” I say with a sheepish smile.

The Merati females look at each other, then laugh, the sound like bubbles in a pond. “The stacks are divided,” the first one says. “Air-breathers can access one side; Thalara will be on the other. You’ll be able to see each other.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Um…thank you.”

I turn around and spot the stairs right away—which is good, because I don’t get the impression those girls liked me much at all.

I guess this is what it feels like to get bullied by the little mermaid.

A spiral staircase takes me down into the stacks, and I’m once again struck dumb by how gorgeous this place is. The submerged stacks are a column of clear water with their own shelves, Merati swimming between them. I take a moment to look into the stacks, walking down a row of old tomes before gazing past the glass. A Merati male is sorting books just ahead, all eight blue tentacles engaged in sorting through texts engraved on thin tablets of mother-of-pearl. I guess I stare a little too long, because the Merati suddenly looks over at me with a glare.

I get a glimpse into his thoughts:Humans always acting like this is a fucking aquarium.

I raise my hand in an awkward wave. He doesn’t wave back.

I go back to the staircase and descend three more floors, until I find the sign for the section I’m looking for. I stroll down the aisle again, looking into the submerged stacks, and this time I find her.

Thalara is in her mer form, blue-black hair floating in a curtain around her head as her opalescent white tentacles flip through a collection of what appears to be imagespainted on seaweed. She glances up at me when I approach the glass, and an understanding smile appears on her face. She waves; I wave back. Then she points to the right, and I follow her lead.

A few minutes later, I’m watching her walk out of an airlock, dressed in a pink wrap dress and wringing out her hair. I don’t know what they use to keep the floors dry around here, but the water seems to vanish as soon as it falls. Thalara pads over to me on bare feet.

“Page!” she says. “I didn’t know you were planning a visit today. It’s lovely to see you.”

I’ve never been able to get a read on Thalara in terms of how she feels about me—she’s too shy, and her thoughts normally revolve around her very intense crush on my brother, so I keep out of them—but the warm reception eases my anxieties over being here. “It’s good to see you, too,” I smile.

“So what brings you here?”

We walk down the aisle toward a little table with a port window. “I stumbled on some information about intermarriage on early Earth, and I figured I’d come up here and ask the only expert I know on family lines,” I say. “So…I’m here for research.”

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