Page 41 of Alien Healer's Touch

"The neural integration may have convinced it of our credentials," Kavan suggested. "Ancient texts speak of how these facilities recognized authorized healers through specific patterns."

We followed the guardian deeper into the facility, through corridors showing varying degrees of damage from centuries of neglect and seismic activity. Some sections appeared almost pristine, with control surfaces showing faint light as we passed, while others had collapsed entirely, forcing us to navigate carefully through rubble.

The automaton led us to a sealed chamber, its entrance marked with symbols I recognized from my studies with Kavan—glyphs representing preservation and healing. As we approached, the markings on my arms warmed in response, matched by Kavan's golden lifelines.

The doorway recognized our synchronized patterns, illuminating with complementary light before sliding open to reveal a space unlike any we'd encountered in the facility. While the rest of the complex showed clear signs of age and decay, this chamber appeared suspended in time—pristine surfaces gleaming with internal light, crystalline structures arranged in precise geometric patterns.

"A preservation vault," Kavan whispered, reverence in his voice. "I've only seen images in the oldest texts."

The guardian automaton moved to a central console, manipulating controls with its fluid appendages. As it activated the stasis fields, I felt a strange sensation - the automaton's scan seemed to intensify, probing deeper into my memories. Suddenly, vivid images flashed through my mind: patients writhing with fever, blue-black veins crawling across their skin in grotesque patterns, the rapid thready pulse beneath my fingertips. I gasped as the memory of Hammond's medical ward surfaced with startling clarity.

"Selene?" Kavan steadied me. "What's happening?"

"It's accessing my memories of the illness," I said, watching as stasis fields throughout the chamber deactivated sequentially, revealing rack after rack of crystalline containers. "It knows exactly what we're looking for."

The guardian began selecting containers from different sections, though it occasionally paused, as if uncertain. At one junction, it hovered between two similar vials, its movements hesitant.

"It's damaged, like everything else here," I realized. "The selection protocols must be partially corrupted."

I stepped forward, guided by the intuition of my enhanced medical knowledge. My markings warmed as I reached for one of the vials the guardian had hesitated over. "This one," I said, certain somehow.

Together, we guided the guardian's selections, our integrated knowledge compensating for its damaged programming. When we finished, six crystalline containers stood assembled on the central platform.

"This would be enough to treat everyone in Hammond's camp," I said, carefully gathering the containers. They felt cool to the touch, humming with subtle energy that made my markings tingle. "And far more effective than what we originally sought."

As we collected the medicine, the guardian moved to another console, activating a display that projected three-dimensional images into the air between us. The images depicted human forms afflicted with symptoms we recognized as Luraxi Fever, followed by treatment protocols and expected recovery timelines.

"It's providing complete treatment instructions," Kavan observed. "Dosages calibrated for human physiology."

I watched, fascinated, as the projection demonstrated precise application methods. "The facility recognized our integration. It's giving us information tailored to our combined knowledge."

When the demonstration concluded, the guardian led us toward another section of the facility. Unlike the path we'd taken to enter, this route showed less damage, the corridors wider and better preserved. Eventually, we reached what seemed to be an exit tunnel—a sloping passage leading upward toward the surface.

"A secondary access point," Kavan said, examining the construction. "Designed for emergencies, perhaps."

I nodded, carefully securing the medicine in my pack. "The question is, where will it lead us? We've been underground for hours—we could emerge anywhere."

"We have little choice," Kavan replied. "The main entrance collapsed during the tremor that brought us here."

The guardian automaton remained at the tunnel's entrance, its crystalline body reconfiguring one final time. The pattern it formed projected a map onto the tunnel wall—a topographical representation of the surface above, with key landmarks illuminated.

I studied the map, recognition dawning. "This shows we're northeast of Hammond's camp. Much closer than when we entered through the caves."

"Convenient," Kavan observed, though his tone suggested he found the timing suspiciously fortunate.

The guardian's projection shifted, showing a weather pattern approaching from the west—swirling formations that I recognized from Kavan's earlier warnings about the seismic storm season.

"It's warning us about an approaching storm," Kavan said, his expression growing serious. "A major one, judging by the pattern."

"How much time do we have?"

He studied the projection, calculating. "Hours, at most. We should move quickly."

With a final glance at the guardian, which had now retreated to a neutral position beside the tunnel entrance, we began our ascent. The passage rose gradually, its construction remarkably intact compared to other sections of the facility. Crystalline light strips embedded in the walls activated as we passed, illuminating our path.

"Do you think it planned this?" I asked as we climbed. "Leading us to the medicine, showing us this exit?"

"The automaton follows programming established millennia ago," Kavan replied. "But yes, I believe it assessed our needs and determined the appropriate response. These facilities were designed to serve healers, after all."

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