Page 24 of Technically Abducted
Tev'ra's bioluminescence shifts to more muted patterns. "The assessment parameters did not anticipate this level of... technological disparity concern."
"Of course they didn't." I stand up, suddenly restless. "Look, your stuff is impressive. Really impressive. But I'm not some desperate tech guy looking to abandon his life for the chance to play with alien toys."
The silence stretches between us, awkward and heavy. Tev'ra's bioluminescence has dimmed to barely visible patterns, and I realize I might have been harsher than necessary. The guy's just doing his job.
I run a hand through my hair. "Sorry. That came out more hostile than I meant it."
"Your position is... understandable," Tev'ra says quietly. "The program structure does create certain... imbalances."
Something in his tone makes me look at him more closely. For the first time since I've met him, he looks uncertain. Almost vulnerable.
"The swimming lessons," I say suddenly, changing the subject. "Are they part of standard Nereidan protocol education, or..."
"No," Tev'ra admits, his skin brightening. "That was a personal initiative."
"Personal initiative." I can't help smiling. "Very un-protocol of you, Blue."
"Yes," he says, and there's something that might be satisfaction in his voice. "Perhaps collaboration requires some deviation from standard approaches."
We sit in the assessment room, the tension from earlier dissolved into something closer to partnership.
"So," I say as we reach the door, "about those swimming lessons."
Tev'ra stops, his skin brightening. "You are interested in aquatic instruction?"
"I'm interested in not drowning if I end up spending more time on your ship," I say, which is mostly true. "Plus, you did say it was a basic survival skill."
"I did say that, yes." He looks serious as he nods. "The instruction would need to be... gradual. Humans have different physiological requirements for aquatic environments."
"I'm a quick learner."
"Yes," Tev'ra says, and his glow shifts to that golden-edged pattern again. "I have observed that you are."
Sitting there in the assessment room, looking at this alien who's somehow become less alien over the past few hours, I realize something has fundamentally changed. I'm still not thrilled about being here, still worried about my clients, still frustrated by the whole situation.
But I'm also curious. About the assessment, about Nereidan technology, about what other problems we might solve together.
And maybe, just maybe, about what it would feel like to trust someone enough to let them teach me something I've always been afraid to learn.
"When do we start?" I ask.
Tev'ra's smile is barely visible, but it's there.
"Whenever you are ready," he says.
Chapter Eight
Tev'ra
"Actually, I believe we should eat first," I find myself saying, the words emerging before I fully consider their implications.
Finn looks surprised by the suggestion, and I realize I should provide proper justification for the deviation from our established plan.
"The assessment protocols suggest a nutritional break," I explain, though that's not entirely accurate—the protocols suggest breaks, but don't mandate them at this specific interval. The truth is more complex: I've observed signs of fatigue in Finn's posture, noted the slight tension around his eyes that suggests the stress of our conversation has affected him more than he admits.
"Yeah, I could eat," Finn agrees, and the relief in his voice confirms my assessment of his condition.
"Excellent." I stand, noting how my movements feel less rigid than usual. The formal precision remains, but something about our collaborative success has altered my baseline tension levels.
