Page 49 of Rainse
"We could establish a research position here," Fionn said thoughtfully. "The island is well-positioned for cetacean studies. And having a legitimate marine biologist on staff would help maintain our cover as a private resort for the rich."
"That could work," Verity said slowly. "I'd need access to equipment—hydrophones, tagging supplies, a boat for field work. And I'd want to publish my findings, which means collaborating with other researchers."
"We can arrange all of that," Pam said. "Within reason, of course. You'd need to be careful about what information you share. No accidental references to alien mermen in your papers."
"I'm a scientist," Verity said dryly. "I know how to keep my work and my personal life separate."
"There's another option," I said, an idea forming. "You could study us."
Everyone turned to look at me.
"Explain," Pam said.
"Verity is a biologist who studies marine life," I said. "We are marine life. Alien marine life that humanity doesn't know exists. The data she could gather—about our physiology, our adaptation to Earth's oceans, the biological basis of the mate bond—it would be groundbreaking."
Verity's eyes had gone wide. "That's... actually brilliant. I'd need to shift my focus from cetaceans to something more interdisciplinary—marine biology meets xenobiology, essentially. But the core skills are transferable. And the research questions are fascinating. How do finfolk navigate? What's the evolutionary purpose of greenskin? Why are you biologically compatible with humans when you evolved on a completely different planet?"
"You're getting excited," I observed.
"I'm a scientist. This is the opportunity of a lifetime." She turned to Pam. "Would that be allowed? Studying the finfolk?"
"With appropriate ethical oversight and consent from the subjects, yes," Pam said. "In fact, having documented research on finfolk biology could be invaluable for future matches. I might even be able to get some extra funding from the Intergalactic University. We know remarkably little about the scientific basis for the mate bond."
"I could change that," Verity said, and I could see her mind already racing ahead, planning studies and forming hypotheses.
"Then it's settled," Fionn said. "Verity will stay on as the island's resident marine biologist and xenobiologist. We'll provide whatever equipment and support she needs."
"There's one more thing," Verity said, her hand finding mine again. "The Minerva. My team. They're expecting me to contact them with a decision about returning to the ship."
The joy that had been building in my chest dimmed slightly. "What will you tell them?"
She was quiet for a moment, considering. "The truth. Or as much of it as I can share. That I've been offered a research position too good to pass up, studying marine life in a private facility. They won't be happy—I'm supposed to be on that expedition for another six weeks—but they'll understand. Science is full of people following unexpected opportunities."
"And if they don't understand?" I asked quietly.
"Then they don't." She met my eyes. "I'm choosing this, Rainse. I'm choosing you, and this island, and the chance to study something no human has ever studied before. If that costs me some professional relationships, I'll rebuild. I'm good at what I do."
The bond pulsed with her certainty, and I had to resist the urge to kiss her right there in front of everyone.
"Excellent," Pam said. "Then let's get that DNA sample processed."
Verity stood, then paused. "Actually, one more question. What happens during these twenty-four hours? Before the results come back?"
"You're free to spend time together," Pam said. "Just perhaps avoid any more mysterious glowing huts. The staff are starting to ask questions."
After Verity had submitted her sample, she stifled a yawn. "Sorry. The adrenaline is wearing off."
"Food first," Fionn said. "Then sleep. You both look dead on your feet."
We made our way to the dining area, where the breakfast service was in full swing. The smell of fresh bread and coffee filled the air, mixing with the salt breeze from the ocean. Several finfolk and humans were scattered across the tables, and I felt their curious gazes tracking us as we entered.
"Everyone's staring," Verity murmured.
"Let them," I said. "They'll have to get used to seeing us together."
We claimed a table near the windows, and within moments, a server appeared with coffee for Verity and water for me. I ordered enough food for both of us—fruit, bread, eggs prepared three different ways, and a dish of raw fish that made Verity wrinkle her nose.
"You're actually going to eat that?" she asked.
