Page 31 of The Alien in the Archive

Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the tears she’s holding back, the frustration and fear she’s trying so hard to hide.She looks at me like I’m her last anchor in a storm, and it twists something deep in my chest.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

“You can,” I say, the words coming out before I can stop them. My thumb brushes over her knuckles, an unthinking gesture, but I don’t pull back. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Her gaze lingers on mine, searching, questioning. For a moment, everything else fades—the hunger, the danger, the voices. It’s just her.

Just us.

I pull back before I do something reckless, something irreversible. Standing, I extend a hand to help her up. She hesitates, then takes it, her fingers curling around mine.

“Come on,” I say. “That’s enough for tonight.”

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I’ve found an incredible source, invaluable to my research. That should be agoodthing, yes, but there’s one stumbling block to including Thorne’s information in my findings.

Historians have tocite their sources, and I can’t exactly cite “Fugitive Alien Hiding in the Library.”

But I can’t avoid meeting with Davina forever…and that’s how I find myself walking to her office a few weeks after I arrived on M’mir. She told me she didn’t need to hear from me unless I needed help, but I guess she thought I would be less independent than I turned out.

I ignore the constant thrum of Thorne’s mind somewhere in the Obscuary as I pass the gate, finding Davina’s office door open at the end of the hall. She’s sitting at her desk, wearing what appears to be a human button-up and a vest, looking like the consummate academic outside of the antlers and metallic skin. She smiles at me when I walk in, eyes sharp and assessing.

“Page,” she says. “You’re early. I assumed you’d be buried in the Archives until the last possible moment.”

From anyone else, it might sound offensive—like from Riley, for example—but from Davina, I know she gets it. I take a seat in the chair across from her desk, and she closes the holographic display on her desk with a flick of her fingers.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch more often,” I apologize. “I’ve just…you know. The Obscuary is enormous and there’s so much to learn…”

“Trust me, I understand.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “How are you finding M’mir?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Um…how do I describe it? I’m a lifelong bibliophile and I live on a library planet. It’s a dream come true.”

“Have you made any friends?”

The question surprises me—not because it’s uncalled for, but because it’s very human. When I was at Harvard, my best advisors were always getting on me about spending more time with living people, not just with dead ones.

It wasn’t ever my strong suit.

“Yeah,” I lie—or partially lie, because Riley’s made friends, and I do spend time with them. Plus…I think Thorne is starting to become a friend, not that I can tell Davina about him. “My brother is here as well, and he’s introduced me to a couple people in Engineering. I also met Thalara Seviris, who’s working with Merati royal history.”

“Oh, she’s a lovely girl,” Davina smiles. “That’s good. You should try to make sure to spend time outside of the Obscuary, too. It can…affect your psyche.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Being in the quiet so long, with books that have their own kind of psychic resonance, books we don’t fully understand,” she shrugs. “Taking a break every once in a while is wise.”

I peer at her, trying to figure out what she wants fromme. I would promise her I’ll take a break, but I don’t plan on it. And besides, I’m not really alone there.

“But that’s beside the point,” Davina says. “Let’s talk about your research—any major developments, or are you still laying the groundwork?”

“Yes, actually.” I reach down for my bag, pulling out a bundle of parchment and numerous notebooks. I’ve already filled out two with information from Thorne, and the parchment is all material he gave me—things he’s filed away over the years. “Something I thought you’d want to see right away.”

She leans forward as I put the material on the desk, her attention entirely captured. “Let’s have a look, then.”

She pulls the first sheet from the bundle, her brow furrowing as she scans the handwritten notes. The room is quiet except for the rustle of paper and the faint hum of a glow lamp above us. In the back of my mind, I can feel Thorne…listening, questioning.

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