Page 36 of Alien Healer's Touch

"What is it?" I asked, deliberately keeping my voice steady despite her proximity.

"Some kind of neural resonance matrix," she replied, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. I fought the urge to do it for her. "If I'm interpreting these correctly, it's designed for direct knowledge exchange between individuals."

"The ancients wrote of such devices," I said. "Meant to transfer specialized healing knowledge across language barriers."

Her eyes met mine, a smile curving her lips. "You mean like a human doctor and a Nyxari healer who struggle to translate precise medical terms?"

My lifelines warmed beneath my skin. "Precisely like that."

She turned back to the display, and I allowed myself a moment to admire her profile—the determined set of her jaw, the intelligence in her eyes as she deciphered the ancient technology. Despite the danger surrounding us, despite Hammond's hunters and the acid storm raging above, I found myself increasingly distracted by her presence.

"This section here," she said, pointing to glyphs along the bottom of the display. "Can you read it?"

I leaned closer, my chest nearly touching her back. The proximity sent my lifelines flickering with golden light. If she noticed, she gave no indication.

"It speaks of 'pathways between minds' and 'bridges across understanding,'" I translated. "And a warning—'prepare completely or risk dissonance.'"

"A warning?" Her brow furrowed in that way I found oddly endearing.

"Ancient technology wasn't without risk," I explained. "Particularly when designed for direct interface."

The guardian drifted closer, its geometric body reconfiguring as it assessed our interaction with the console. The automaton had become less threatening since recognizing Selene's markings, now behaving more like a curious observer than a defensive sentinel.

"Look," she said suddenly, pointing to an alcove that had opened in the far wall. "It wasn't visible before."

Inside the alcove stood what appeared to be twin chairs formed of a smooth, translucent material, facing each other, connected by an arching framework of the same substance. The entire apparatus glowed with faint internal light that brightened as we approached.

"The Aschan Diadem," I breathed, recognizing it from ancient texts. "I thought it merely legend."

"What is it?" Selene moved toward the device, her hand outstretched. Her markings brightened as she neared the glowing structure.

"A way to bind minds to minds, designed to share medical knowledge between practitioners from different settlements easily." I followed her, my tail swishing with unease. "The elders speak of it in reverent tones—a technology so advanced it could transfer years of medical expertise in a single session."

The guardian automaton circled the apparatus, its gleaming body emitting a harmonic tone that resonated with the chamber walls. The sound vibrated through my chest, strangely intimate.

"Could it help us communicate better?" Selene asked, examining the chairs without touching them. "Beyond what the translation stones provide?"

"Potentially." I studied the apparatus more closely. "The stones translate words. This transfers concepts, understandings, directly from mind to mind. But primarily for medical knowledge—it wasn't designed for general communication."

Her eyes lit with scientific curiosity—that passionate intensity I'd come to admire. "The applications would be revolutionary. Imagine sharing surgical techniques without language barriers, or transferring pharmacological knowledge without translation errors."

"The risks would be significant," I cautioned. "Particularly with an ancient, potentially damaged system."

My warning didn't dampen her enthusiasm. She circled the apparatus, inspecting each component with methodical attention. I found myself watching her movements instead of the technology—the graceful efficiency in her steps, the way her markings caught the light when she gestured.

"The designs indicate a temporary connection," she noted. "Not permanent integration."

"Yes," I agreed, forcing my attention back to the apparatus. "The texts describe it as a 'bridging of minds' rather than a merging."

She looked up at me, her expression suddenly serious. "Would you consider trying it? With me?"

The question struck me with unexpected force. My lifelines flared under my skin, responding to something deeper than mere surprise.

"You would trust such ancient technology?" I asked carefully.

"I trust you," she replied simply.

Those three words resonated through me with greater impact than any interface could achieve. My lifelines brightened visibly beneath my emerald skin, the response impossible to hide.

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