Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 2

chapter two

irosabsuul

Her oxygen levels were good, and her injuries extensive but not medically significant. Satisfied it was the pain that had resulted in her loss of consciousness, I checked her weight, metabolism, and species information against the Blue Tipped Keldra serum to make sure I hadn’t miscalculated.

I was qualified to do this, but not practiced. If she’d been awake, it would have been much more comfortable. I could have provided her with the serum and she could’ve taken it, or not. And even knowing that her species didn’t use their oral opening for recreation and reproduction the way mine did, it still felt unethical to put my digits on her jaw and ease her lips apart.

Drawing in a deep breath, I took the dropper, administered the dose, and was glad when my mind didn’t sexualise her.

While the pain medication did its work, I assessed the damage again on the scanner. She’d been sent for a reason. Everyone was. She’d move on to the city. She’d do something that would help sustain the Centre. This was a small notation on the tertiary level of my job. Sometimes, a being would be in need who was not within my usual role. I wasn’t going to turn them away.

Her damaged limb was stiff, with brittle bones. Her feet showed harm done by improper foot positioning, and my quick study showed little pieces of cartilage growing where they shouldn’t be. What had she done to her poor feet before landing here? Furthermore, her hormones were out of balance, and there were nonlethal but troublesome cysts on her ovaries that would cause her significant discomfort monthly.

That needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later. But she’d come to me because of her leg and sore chest, so I focused on those concerns. There wasn’t much I could do about her bruised ribs except marvel at the way her species had evolved such a flawed spine. But her leg I wrapped in bright, fresh Volett leaf, then tied and set beneath a light cast. It would take her a few weeks to heal, but that would hold it still, and the Volett would protect the muscles while she held the limb immobile and encourage blood flow. And if the Refugee Support Services arrived before then, they’d equip her with the higher tech version of what I’d just done.

I spent some time looking at her toes, each one like a little, only barely functional limb. I wondered what her home planet was like. To have existed without the universal translator, either she was incredibly wealthy…or unbelievably impoverished.

Her eyes fluttered open and I braced myself for her fear as her eyes ran over the contents of my lab. She probably hadn’t been able to think very clearly before.

“Good sunup,” she said, then scrubbed her hand over her face with those strangely firm fingers that I didn’t stare at. “My body is a large amount less painful. I am happy.”

She didn’t look happy, but I was familiar with the translator’s quirks, and knew many of our languages included reassuring phrases that didn’t necessarily translate well. “Your leg has been treated. It will heal over the coming weeks. For now, try to let it rest.”

She nodded, scooting over to the edge of the bed. “I must be rocked as intercourse,” she said. “Because my pain is greatly reduced. The fish look low temperature.”

Why she spoke of intercourse so often I was unsure, but I gathered it was another, albeit unusual, turn of phrase. I offered her my arm to lean on and brought her over to the bio-recovery area. She hobbled along beside me, her gaze everywhere, her words coming fast and making only limited sense. I stopped listening to the exact terms she used, but instead watched her round, pink face flushed with increase blood flow as she laboured to get around.

Her happy noises were pleasant.

She crouched down before the bio-recovery unit of a fingerling who’d been brought to me with a damaged tail and some bite-marks. “A leaf is adhered to it,” she said, looking at me accusingly.

“It’s medical,” I told her.

She shook her head. “No, look. It’s a leaf.”

I nodded, then indicated toward her leg. “Volett,” I said, slowly. “It is good for increasing blood-flow, and will stay on even when you’re in the water.”

She looked at me, then her leg, then the fish. “Are you a medical responder for unaware beings?”

“I help sea life,” I agreed, hoping that would prevent misunderstandings.

“And me,” she said, her eyes huge as she stared at me, her lips so full and flushed, parted ever so slightly. As I watched, her tongue flicked out tentatively, the briefest flicker of pink. Heat rushed through me and I tore my eyes away. It wasn’t appropriate for a patient to stir such feelings, even if we were biologically compatible.

“You needed help. I helped.” I cleared my aching throat. I had no right to lust after her. If she came back, later… I cleared my throat again. “This one should be ready to release soon.”

She turned her gaze back to the fingerling, slowing her pace to watch the fish. Her shifting attention allowing me to observe her unusual roundness, the soft pillows of her body that felt so lovely against me. The clothing she wore was not protective. The darkness of it was made more pronounced by the water it appeared to hold onto. The cloth clung to her fragile skin like the Volett leaf. I could see every dip and ripple of her short, but generous body.

My mouth watered.

My eyes traced the dip of her spine, the curve of her behind, the dimples in her thighs and the valley behind her knees. The backs of her legs rippled like the sandbars after a storm. I swallowed and tore my eyes away, but the peaks and troughs of her were seared into my lids.

She was injured, and in my care. It had been years since I’d had romantic company, but those years had been fulfilling, even joyous, and I hadn’t felt the lack of partner.

This poor woman had just had her life torn apart. Who knew who she’d lost, what she had left. The Call was rarely without cost. The nagging irritation in the lead-up, the navigation as you needed to identify what, exactly, your Calling was. One day, we’d learn more about the Heartbeat that stabilised the galaxy and fuelled this planet as well as providing the source of its biobeacons that ensured ongoing, high level care of the entire system. One day, we’d decode the biobeacon so it could be read like a holotext, rather than interpreted like a nagging worry. For today… I was simply here to ensure she survived and continued along her way.

As if she was the Heartbeat, though, my gaze drew inexorably back. My throat felt too tight as my eyes drew upward, this time, over the roundness of her belly and the peaks of her breast tissue, to her beautiful neck where tendrils of fine, dark hair curled against her strangely pale skin.

Creases in her skin begged to be traced. Her bones formed a beautiful vee at the base of her throat that I couldn’t see from this angle, but I knew was there.

You shouldn’t look at injured beings.

She had control of her faculties now, though, and for the next few hours. I couldn’t help but notice her bone structure and flesh created pleasing forms.

Her jaw was painfully delicate. It was one of the first things I’d noticed when I’d thrown the torn pieces of steel off her. The wreck was huge, and the fires had been high, but one outflung arm had caught my eye. And there she’d been. Pale, dirty, and half-covered by rubble, needing my assistance every bit as much as the fingerling she was staring at now. Unlike the fingerling, she’d have external help soon enough. The thought was unsettling. I followed, with my eyes, the line of her jaw and the curve of her cheek. Her lips were curved up, now, in amusement.

Horror struck me as I saw she was watching me watch her in the reflection of the tank. I swallowed again, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“I should identify how to leave,” she said, and while the translator smoothed the jumble of sounds that came from her mouth, it kept the tone. Amusement, but also, the first trace of concern.

I was glad she was coming back to herself, and glad that she had the usual survival reflexes, even if hers seemed to have been buried beneath the pain.

“Whenever you want, I can take you to the city,” I told her, keeping my worry to myself at that idea. “Or I can summon the Refugee Support Services.”

I only had a week or so before the Heartfins migrated, and preparation would take every moment of my time. Their numbers had been reduced in a storm, and were crucial to maintain for the Heartbeat’s health. No other fish was as efficient at eating the Unngild forests that could choke the Heartlines and congest our ability to sustainably harvest the biofuels.

“Population centre?” she repeated, frowning. “There’s a city?”

“There is.” I considered picking up the net now, but I was exhausted, and threading the fine, stretchy fibres into the correct shape made my digits ache just to think about. “Did you want to see it?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I was treated to a view of her tongue and a single row of teeth that curved with her delicate jaw, an unbroken pattern of them. She closed her mouth, and I drew in a deep, patient breath. She didn’t know what that meant, I could only assume. She didn’t know how she was affecting me and I needed to keep it that way.

“I have no currency.”

I considered the ship she’d crashed on. Likely there was something they’d be able to repair so she could access her financials. The Heartland was well placed to support her even if that failed. “You’ve been registered with the support service,” I assured her. “They know of your injuries and the location of your landing. They’ll help you find your purpose.”

When I’d first found her, I hadn’t hesitated to provide first aid. Once I was confident she was stable, I’d followed standard protocol to report it all. They knew she was physically well and in my care.

But I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. And the thought of them arriving, of taking her away for scans, questionnaires, and instructional holo-vids made my belly feel tight. It didn’t make sense, so I ignored it.

“What will they do?”

Despite my exhaustion, I felt for her. “Give you the basics, and support to identify your Call, or at least your Temporary Call. We don’t rush the process. But they won’t come for a few days, as they know I’ve provided you with medical care.” I ought to contact them again, tell them she needed their help sooner rather than later.

She wasn’t my first refugee. She wouldn’t be my last. They knew that, while caring for injured beings wasn’t my Calling, supporting others to access their Call was everyone’s priority. She needed to heal, and she would, here. They wouldn’t hurry.

It all seemed simultaneously too far away…and not far enough.