Page 19 of Technically Abducted
The moment I enter the water, the difference is immediate and profound. My sealed gills reflexively open, the delicate structures unfurling to absorb the mineral-rich liquid. The pain transforms into relief so intense it borders on pleasure, sending waves of bioluminescence cascading across my skin.
I submerge completely, allowing the water to envelop every surface of my body. The specialized cells in my epidermis begin absorbing essential minerals and conducting the bioelectric processes that maintain Nereidan health.
For several minutes, I simply float, all thoughts of assessment protocols and Council expectations temporarily suspended.
In this relaxed state, unbidden thoughts of Finn Sullivan emerge.
The human has not responded according to any predicted parameters. His apartment, his working methods,his very existence defies the structured, optimization-focused approach I expected based on the research briefs. His chaotic environment should logically produce inferior results, yet he consistently creates functional solutions from apparent disorder.
Even more perplexing is his relationship with his clients. His concern for their welfare goes beyond professional obligation, manifesting as something closer to... protection. He positions himself as a shield between their technological vulnerabilities and potential harm. This protective instinct extends even to individuals he has never physically met.
Unexpected. Intriguing.
I surface partially, allowing my face to emerge while keeping my gill structures submerged.
A thought crystallizes: Finn Sullivan may represent an adaptation strategy I had not previously considered. His apparent chaos might be a form of resilience, an adaptation to unpredictable conditions that Nereidan systematic approaches cannot match.
This possibility is... disruptive to established assessment parameters.
I submerge again, allowing the mineral-rich water to flow through my gill structures. My bioluminescence patterns shift and swirl with my thoughts, reflecting the complex interplay of professional curiosity and personal reaction that Finn elicits.
The most troubling element of the Earth observation period was my own unexpected physical response to his partial state of undress. The human's deliberate decision to remain uncovered seemed calculated to cause discomfort, yet my reaction went beyond simple cultural adjustment issues. I was... attracted to him, something I had not anticipated and certainly not included in any assessment plan.
I must find a way to manage these reactions if the assessment is to proceed properly. Perhaps there is something in the medical storage to help me maintain focus.
As my hydration levels return to optimal range, my thoughts become more ordered again. I have indulged in hydration therapy for twenty-three minutes—sufficient for basic functioning but not complete recovery.
I move to exit the pool, my movements already more graceful and coordinated than before immersion. As I reach the edge, the hydration chamber doors slide open.
Finn Sullivan stands in the entrance, his expression shifting rapidly from curiosity to surprise to something I cannot immediately categorize. His gaze moves over my partially submerged form, lingering in a way that triggers an involuntary wave of bioluminescence across my skin.
"Whoa," he says, eyes widening as they focus on me. "I was just exploring and... sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your... swimming?"
I remain partially submerged, suddenly conscious of my unclothed state and the clearly visible bioluminescence patterns that I had not been controlling during hydration. The intensity of his stare creates an unexpected response in my neural pathways.
"You found the hydration chamber," I observe, trying to sound composed despite being caught in such a vulnerable state.
Finn shrugs, a gesture I'm coming to recognize as his way of minimizing significance. "The door wasn't locked. I was bored, started wandering around. Found myself here." His eyes scan the chamber, taking in the multiple pools, the organic architecture so different from the rest of the vessel. "So this is like... an alien swimming pool?"
"It is a hydration chamber," I correct, moving toward the edge where my discarded uniform lies. "Essential for Nereidan physiological maintenance."
Finn takes a few steps into the chamber, his curiosity evident in the way he studies the space. "It's beautiful. Way less sterile than the rest of your ship." He approaches the edge of the pool, crouching down to trail his fingers through the water. "Feels different. Thicker somehow."
"The mineral composition is specifically calibrated for optimal cellular absorption and bioelectric conductivity," I explain, reaching for my uniform while remaining mostly submerged.
"So it's medicinal? Like a weird alien mineral bath?"
"That is similar." I hesitate, then ask, "Would you step away from the edge and turn around so I may exit the pool?"
Finn raises an eyebrow. "Shy, Blue? After all that talk about my lack of 'appropriate coverings' back on Earth?"
His gaze travels over the parts of my body visible through the water, appreciation evident in his expression. The water's surface distorts the view, but does not hide the bioluminescent patterns that pulse more intensely under his scrutiny. I find myself caught between professional decorum and an unexpected physiological response to his attention.
"Nereidan cultural protocols maintain consistent standards regardless of location," I say stiffly, feeling my bioluminescence respond to my discomfort in ways that are undoubtedly visible to him.
To my surprise, he complies without further comment, stepping back and turning away. "So this is why you were looking rough earlier. You really do need water, huh?"
"Nereidans evolved from semi-aquatic ancestors," I explain, quickly emerging and pulling on my uniform. "Ourphysiology requires regular hydration immersion for optimal functioning."
