Page 60 of Reluctantly Abducted
"There are conditions," he continues. "First, the human must agree voluntarily. Second, the purpose is specifically to assess bond compatibility—not just general integration suitability. And third..." he pauses, making sure I'm listening carefully, "this is the final opportunity. If after seventy-two hours there is no clear evidence of bond formation, or if the human declines to return permanently to our world, that is the end."
"The end," I echo.
"Yes. No further exceptions, no additional assessments. The Council was quite clear on this point. If this final assessment doesn't result in bond formation and the human's permanent integration, you will need to put this entire matter behind you. Permanently."
The finality in his voice makes something cold settle in my chest. One chance. Seventy-two hours to determine if what I feel for Owen is truly the beginning of a bond or merely an unusual level of interpersonal compatibility.
"I understand," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
"Do you?" Kav'eth asks, studying me intently. "Because if you pursue this and it fails, you cannot keep revisiting Earth. You cannot keep retrieving this human. You will need to accept the outcome and move forward with your life and work."
"I understand," I repeat, more firmly this time.
Kav'eth's expression softens slightly. "For what it's worth, I believe there is potential for a bond. Your presentation revealed more than you intended, little brother. I saw how your bioluminescence responded when discussing him, even when you thought you were being objective."
I'm not sure what to say. This possibility hadn't occurred to me—that there might be an official, protocol-approved way to see Owen again.
"Of course," Kav'eth continues, his tone deliberately casual, "such a follow-up would require approval from the human as well. He would need to be informed of the purpose and duration of the additional assessment. His participation would be entirely voluntary."
"Yes. Of course." My mind is already calculating the probabilities, analyzing variables. Would Owen agree to return? Would he want to see me again? Or had he already moved on with his Earth life, relegating our time together to an unusual anecdote, nothing more?
"Ry'eth," Kav'eth says, pulling me from my thoughts, "I've never seen you like this about anyone. Not in all our years."
"Like what?" I ask, though I know exactly what he means.
"Conflicted. Distracted." He gestures at my skin, where patterns of light are shifting with my fluctuating emotions. "Illuminated by something other than scientific discovery."
I don't deny it. I can't. Not when my own biology is confirming his observation with every pulse of light beneath my skin.
"If you want my advice," he says, moving toward the door, "you should go get him. Officially, for a follow-up assessment. Unofficially..." He pauses, a rare smile crossing his features. "Well, that's between you and the human."
"I'll consider it," I say, attempting to sound noncommittal despite the sudden racing of my pulse.
Kav'eth nods, clearly not fooled by my pretense of indifference. "Your ship is already prepared. Council authorization has been loaded into its systems."
"You seem very confident in my decision," I observe.
"I know you, little brother," he replies. "Beneath all that scientific objectivity, you've always been the most passionate of us three. Once you decide what you want, nothing stops you from pursuing it."
He's gone before I can formulate a response, the door sliding closed behind him.
I stand motionless in the center of my quarters, my mind processing this unexpected development. A final assessment period. Seventy-two hours to determine if an empathic bond is possible. One last chance to see Owen again, with the understanding that if it fails, there will be no more opportunities.
I move to my data terminal and activate the secure connection to my ship's systems. The authorization from the Council is indeed there, along with coordinates for Owen's dwelling on Earth. Everything ready, waiting only for my command to initiate the sequence.
My finger hovers over the activation protocol. This is officially sanctioned now, but with clear conditions and consequences. No rules would be broken, but the stakes are considerably higher than I anticipated.
Yet I hesitate. Because despite all the official justifications, despite the scientific language and formalapprovals, I know the truth that pulses beneath my skin with every heartbeat. I want to see Owen Hayes again. Not just for research. Not just to assess bond compatibility. Not just for the advancement of Nereidan-human integration.
For me.
The realization should be unsettling—a deviation from the scientific detachment I've cultivated throughout my career. Instead, it brings a strange clarity. A sense of purpose more compelling than any research project.
Seventy-two hours to determine our future. Seventy-two hours to discover if what I feel is truly the beginning of a bond.
I activate the ship's systems and begin the launch sequence.
Chapter Nineteen
