Page 34 of Alien Healer's Touch

"Maybe. But it's inconsistent." I tried the same motion again, but this time the guardian pulsed warning lights. "We need trial and error. And time."

"Time we have." Kavan gestured to the sealed entrance. "The storm will last hours yet."

We worked through those hours, Kavan offering suggestions based on ancient Nyxari symbology while I tested responses. Sometimes the entity behaved predictably. Other times it reacted in ways that forced quick adaptation, making us back away or freeze.

"Look at this," Kavan called, examining text on a wall panel. "These symbols match our oldest healing texts."

I joined him, studying the unfamiliar script. "Can you read it?"

"Partially. It speaks of 'joining minds in service of healing.' And something about 'crossing barriers of understanding.'" His long finger traced the symbols. "This was a place where healers shared knowledge."

"A research station," I suggested, pieces connecting. "For medical communication between... different groups?"

"Different settlements, perhaps. Or even..." Kavan paused, his golden eyes widening. "Different species."

More text appeared as we explored, the guardian maintaining a watchful but less aggressive stance. Through pieced-together fragments, we uncovered the facility's purpose—a medical research station designed to enhance communication between healers from different regions and possibly different species.

"Neural integration," I read from a display that illuminated in response to my marked palms. "Direct knowledge transfer. They bypassed language completely."

"Impossible," Kavan murmured, wonder filling his voice.

"For direct specialist transfer. Healers to healers." I studied diagrams showing individuals connected to interfaces similar to ours. "They shared medical knowledge independent of language barriers."

"Such technology would revolutionize our ability to treat patients," Kavan said. "The Nyxari lost vast knowledge in the Great Division. If we could recover even fragments..."

The guardian shifted without warning, its segments rearranging into a more threatening form. We froze until I discovered a hand position that calmed it.

"The system is damaged," I noted, pointing to irregular patterns in the displays. "Incomplete. Trying to function but unable to access all its parameters."

"Yet it responds to you," Kavan observed.

"To the markings," I corrected, examining my silver-traced hands. "Hammond thought these were weapons—a means of Nyxari control. But what if they're interfaces? Tools for communication and healing?"

The thought chilled me. If Hammond had been experimenting on marked women while treating the markings as weapons to control or remove...

"From what you've described," Kavan said, "Hammond has been manipulating artifacts without understanding their purpose."

"Worse than that." I pulled up more information on the integration process, scanning fragments. "He's playing with technology designed to interface with these markings—without understanding the consequences."

Kavan's expression darkened. "Like giving explosives to a primitive tribe and calling it progress."

"Exactly." I examined the data more carefully. "This facility is too damaged for complete integration, but partial transfer might be possible—specifically medical terminology." I glanced at him. "Creating a shared vocabulary for healing rather than complete communication."

"Would such an attempt be safe?" Kavan asked.

I shook my head. "Unknown. My physician training warns against untested procedures, but..." I gestured around us. "This could bridge gaps the translation stones can't. Medical terms don't always translate perfectly."

We stared at the central interface, its hard-light structure pulsing with invitation and warning. The guardian rotated nearby, reminding us of both the facility's power and instability.

"Hammond doesn't view these artifacts as tools to understand," I said softly. "He sees them as weapons to control. That makes him far more dangerous than I realized."

"If he's manipulating similar technology without proper knowledge..." Kavan left the implication hanging.

"The risk isn't just to marked women anymore." I placed my hands on the cool console surface, watching my silver markings respond to its light. "It's to everyone."

The guardian emitted a low hum, its segments shifting. Instead of threatening us, it projected a holographic image above the console—two figures, one Nyxari-shaped and one human-proportioned, their outlines filled with intersecting patterns of light.

"What is it showing us?" Kavan moved closer, his shoulder touching mine.

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