by Hana Starr
“That could take years for me to fully understand, though!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Would I really be able to help anyone by then?” Faer remained calm.
“I can share all of the information that you would require with you in the same way that we shared our more intimate details with each other last night.” She felt herself flush in spite of herself. “You would learn everything in a matter of moments.” She nodded in understanding.
“Alright, let's do this, then,” she held out her hands, palms up. “I want to help save as many of your people as possible.” Faer regarded her warmly.
“I knew there was a reason that we chose you, Anne Claire.” They stepped closer to her, lacing their fingers between hers. The sensation of their hands laced together was steadily becoming as familiar to her as her own heart beating in her chest, she realized with a smile. The warmth that flooded her body as Faer began to gently ease them back into the link was akin to their soul pressing a kiss to her own, and she felt confident that she would never be warm again without Faer's presence, in her mind or by her side.
Unlike the last time that they made the connection, it felt more like a one way channel that Faer was traveling through to reach her mind. In spite of this, Anne Claire still felt at ease, knowing that this was most likely the best way for her to receive this much information in such a short amount of time. She could feel Faer in her mind fully now, trying to introduce concepts to her as easily and slowly as possible. She physically shook her head; touched though she may be that they were still looking out for her well being, she knew that time was of the essence, and the sooner that she had every tool at her disposal that she could, the better.
'No need to go slowly, Faer,' she thought, and she heard them gasp quietly in front of her. 'I trust you. I'm not afraid. Give me everything you think will help as quickly as you safely can, okay? I know you won't let me get hurt.' She sensed an odd warmth swell in her heart from Faer, evidently touched at her words. It was the last sensation she felt before she was suddenly submerged in a sea of knowledge that Faer was pouring into her mind.
Though the sensation was alarming, she took a calming breath and reminded herself that this was her chance – she could either sink under the weight of it all and let down an entire species, or she could swim, and absorb every drop of information available to her. And swim, she did; once she managed to settle her mind and let the information flow into her, understanding it all became surprisingly easy; it was almost like she was in some sort of temporal time anomaly, where her mind was taking its time, the years that she would have needed to absorb all of this naturally, and condensing it into the mere seconds that ticked by.
Chapter 12
She learned, through detailed indexes and charts that Faer's species was named the Hakimme, and that their race was a malleable, adaptable sort, to some degree; though they could heal from injuries fairly quickly with little aid, their immune systems were a little less robust, requiring treatments for even the most benign ailments. In the last year of their calendar, they had seen an alarming increase in the same symptoms in hundreds of their race: inability to keep adequate weight on their bodies, anemia, and growths in the body on their equivalent to the colon. She felt the breath leave her lungs at the pain that these symptoms caused, how intensely she felt it in her body.
Though they had scientists a plenty, there were few enough doctors to treat all of the people, and fewer still that even had an inkling as to what to do with this new epidemic. Research at first suspected that this illness was a disease that was contagious, but after initial testing, it was ruled out as a possibility. Because the Hakimme had bodies that were constantly in flux from having to adapt to the environments that they either traveled to, or lived in, as there were colonies on several other planets in the system, studying the effects of these symptoms and understanding the cause proved difficult, and there were few willing to be test subjects in the pursuit of a cure.
Same as before, Faer eased them out of their shared link, though she noted that they were slower to pull away this time, as if they were mindful of the fact that they just sent her through the most intensive cram school ever devised. Even still, the sense of loss as Faer drifted out of her mind left her feeling strangely more hollow than the last time they connected. She felt her hands clenching the edge of the counter top behind her for support, and it was only then that she realized that her legs were shaking.
“I am sorry if that was too much,” Faer was beside her in an instant, their hands gently but firmly supporting her until she nodded in silent confirmation that she stood more firmly on her feet. As she righted herself, she smiled reassuringly at her newfound partner. “How do you feel?” They asked with a tilt of their head as their hands fell back at their sides.
“No need to be sorry,” she shook her head lightly. “I'm okay. It's just a lot to process all at once, but I think I've got it down.” She repeated all of the information that she had absorbed to confirm that nothing had been muddled or misconstrued in their transfer. As she recited it, Faer nodded along approvingly until she had divested everything they had shared with her.
“That's everything, succinctly put.” Faer regarded her proudly. “You did so much better than I had anticipated. You are constantly surprising me, Anne Claire.” She couldn't help but flush under their praise, their warm regarding gaze. “Do you think that we could begin to work today? I do not mean to rush you, but I confess, I am eager to find a solution to the issue sooner rather than later.” She nodded.
“That's alright, I'm eager to help your people, too. I have a few ideas I would like to put to the test once you show me this lab of yours. For now,” she plucked the two mugs from the counter and handed Faer one. “We drink our tea. Once we're done, we begin our noble work, Faer.” She lightly clacked her mug against theirs in a quiet toast.
“Why did you do that?” Faer questioned. “I have never seen that done before.” She giggled.
“It's called a toast,” she explained. “You clink your glasses together in good cheer, or to celebrate something. It's usually done with alcohol, but tea is my choice of beverage more often than not.”
“You are a strange human, Ann Claire.” Faer shook their head. “And yet...a charmingly intriguing one.” She smiled, and the two of them lapsed into a companionable silence as they sipped at their tea. Anne Claire hummed low as the aromatic drink sank into her belly and enjoyed the hushed warmth that flooded through from the hot liquid. Though this warmth that suffused through her was nothing like what they had shared when their minds were linked to one another, not even remotely close, they both quietly agreed that it was still a pleasant feeling that soothed the soul.
Soon, the tea was drained, the mugs were cleaned and put away, and Faer was idly stroking Momo in greeting when he came to investigate the newcomer again once he was finished feasting on his wet food. Though it was still strange to her to think that Faer had so faithfully recreated her house in merely one room of their home, she still relished in the comfort that it provided, and noted with no small amount of happiness that Faer, for all their otherworldly qualities, never once felt out of place in the space. Curiosity got the better of her, and she walked over to her window in the living room beside the armchair Faer had occupied when she first emerged from her room. Parting the curtains, she smiled as she took in the orchid colored skyline of Faer's home planet, Arret. She took in the muted lavender of the clouds that hung overhead, of the deep amaranthine sea of water that swayed and sloshed below.
“Does this skyline make you uncomfortable?” She heard Faer ask hesitantly from the kitchen. She turned away from the gorgeous scenery to face them. “If it would make you comfortable, I could project Earth's scenery outside instead. Or the stars, if it is preferable.” She shook her head, her smile widening.
“I think this is perfect.” She let the statement and all of its many meanings in that moment hang there, and walked toward them with a determined grin. “Shall we get starte
d? I want to take a look at the equipment you taught me about.” Faer nodded, taking her hand in theirs and guiding her away.
With a parting scritch on Momo's chin, they exited Anne Claire's space, and returned to the clean, pristine white and silver of the rest of Faer's home. It felt surreal, stepping out from a space that so perfectly mimicked her home into the rest of the building, a stark reminder that she was far, far from home. Still, she was impressed by the vast expanse of the home, and how immaculately cleaned that it was in spite of that. Faer led her out of the hallway, away from her area, and led her up a flight of stairs that seemed to hover in place rather than be bolted to the wall or attached to the floor. And yet, they felt as solid as if they were firmly attached to something.
Once they were on the next floor, Faer guided her through the foyer of the floor and to a door that she noted seemed more secure than the others; there was a green digital panel beside the door that Faer placed their hand on. It was familiar enough to her security measures back at her lab on Earth that it felt strangely comforting to see. They motioned for her to enter the lab, and she did so, looking around Faer's laboratory in awe.
Pearl white walls were only marred by the green and orange digital displays that all showed the recent test results of experiments that they had been running before her arrival. The tables and panels with computers and equipment that she recalled being shown in Faer's instructions, and she mentally ticked off which ones she would need to make use of to test out her ideas as to what it could be. She walked into the lab and sucked in a deep, slow breath. How strange, she noted – even a lab in another galaxy smelled familiarly of antiseptic, and latex, and even the sounds of whirring machines and the occasional soft beeping from the computers there made her feel like she had stepped into her own lab.
“Do you think that you can work in these conditions?” Faer asked curiously.
“This feels like home to me.” She cracked her knuckles. “Almost as much as my actual home.” She turned to look at them. “I think we're gonna do great work here, Faer. Let's get started,” she said with a broad grin as she walked over to the main computer against the wall.
“Where do you want to start?”
“I want to see what you've done already, so I'm not retreading old ground,” she explained as she tapped away at the keyboard with the muscle memory of someone who had used this technology for years. “Like I said, I have a few ideas, but I want to make sure they haven't been ruled out already.” Faer walked up beside her.
“I am ashamed to admit this, but there is little that I have tried thus far.” They sighed and folded their arms across their chest. “With so few volunteer test subjects, there is little to draw from.”
“I thought about how to combat that,” she said with a nod as she looked through their meticulous notes, few as they may have been. After finishing, she turned to face them. “I was wondering if you would let me take a sample of your blood, Faer.”
“My blood?” They parroted with a tilt of their head, surprised. “I take no issue with it, but I wonder what use it could have – my people's blood is one of the few things not affected by the illness.”
“Exactly!” She nodded. “I want to take a sample of your blood, use it to generate a set of cloned organs – your generative cell apparatus allows for organs to be grown in a matter of minutes based off of your genetic make up and a sample of your blood. Using these organs, I want to try and recreate the illness, see what its growing and feeding off of, and use them to draw samples from to test. You carry the illness, so it's an ideal sample to take!” She knew that she was rambling horribly, and she also knew that that last part was probably a thousand levels of inappropriately harsh, but she was so caught up in her train of thought that she was only peripherally aware of the impact of her words until she had stopped talking.
Now she wanted to crawl into a hole.
“How,” Faer asked incredulously. “How did you know that I carried the illness, Ann Claire?” She smiled apologetically and gently stroked their arm soothingly.
“You told me.” They stared at her with wide, silver shimmering eyes, clearly alarmed at the thought.
“I do not recall...” She could see in the shifting colors of their eyes that they were wracking their brain to try and find the exact moment that they disclosed this information.
“You didn't exactly say it outright,” she said, her smile growing sad. “But I felt the pain of the symptoms that the illness had. Your species is telepathic, but the things that are shared second hand are more of an...” she scrunched her face up as she sought the words to describe her experience. “More of an echo of the original. It gets the message across, but it doesn't feel as intense as if you were channeling the original feeling.” She stared up into their eyes. “I felt your pain. I felt what you're going through, if only for a moment.” She reached out with both arms and held their hands in hers. “I don't want you to feel that. I don't want anyone to feel that. It's the whole reason I got into medicine in the first place.”
“You are far more astute than I gave you credit for,” Faer was quiet as they listened. “But that is a good thing. Both because it will help us find the solution and...” they hooked a long finger under her chin to bring their faces closer together. “...And because it only makes you more endearing to me.” They let their hand fall. “Very well. Draw a sample of my blood, and I shall prepare it for the generative apparatus.” She nodded firmly and stepped over to an examination counter. She searched the drawers beneath the pristine metal counter to find the needle and vials that Faer had been using to take samples.
The artificial familiarity of these machines and procedures was still strange to her, to a degree; while her mind lined up everything that she planned on testing out of information that shouldn't have felt as natural as it did, her hands moved with the genuine practiced grace that only came with years of repeated motions in her own lab, on her own planet, with her own knowledge gained after years of dedicated study. Perhaps that was why she was able to handle such a large transfer of information so easily; she had a basis to work with, something to compare the differences with, and something to build off of in order to help even more people than she already had. The thought comforted her, and as she turned to face Faer with the equipment necessary to take a sample of their blood, she found them seated beside the generative apparatus waiting patiently for her to begin.
Chapter 13
“Alright, let's get this sample,” she said in a soft voice when she was beside them, placing the equipment on a side table beside their seat. “I'll be as gentle as possible, but remember that this is my first time drawing blood from a Hakimme. If something feels wrong, let me know immediately!”
“Anne Claire.” Their tone was kind but firm, as if they knew that she was liable to ramble if left to her own devices. She was liable to nervously rambling when she was about to do something that made her anxious. She laughed nervously but Faer patiently waited until she could comfortably look them in the eye. “I have complete confidence in your abilities.” They set down the blood draw equipment on the tray beside them and took her hands in theirs. “My people may have chosen you because of your accomplishments in your field, but I know that their decision was correct because I know you. I have seen you, and I know that you can do this.” The reassuring squeeze of her hand in addition to their reassurances bolstered her enough to steady her nerves.
“Thank you.” She resumed her previous task of prepping their arm for blood draw, wrapping a tourniquet around their arm just tightly enough that their veins were more pronounced through their opalescent skin. With a hand steadied by their encouraging words, she lined up the needle with a vein that prominently shone through their skin, and drove the needle into it. She knew, because of the telepathic transfer, that the Hakimme had different colored blood than her, but it was still jarring to her all the same when the deep purple liquid slid through the IV tube and into the first of four testing vials that she needed to fill
.
“You did well,” Faer noted when she capped off the last of the vials. “But I knew that you would.”
“Here, hold this for me, would you?” She handed them a little puffy ball akin to a cotton ball, and they pressed it against where the needle was still in their arm. She eased the needle out, immediately going for a bandage for their arm that would allow it to heal faster. “You know, this isn't so different from drawing blood from a patient back home,” she said conversationally as she deftly wrapped the bandage around their thin, lanky arm. “I guess I worried for nothing.” Securing the bandage, she simply held their arm for a few moments, lightly stroking their cool skin.
“You are worried.” She looked up at them, into their eyes that had taken on a turquoise hue.
“If I didn't already know that you were a telepath, I could swear that you just read my mind.” She chuckled humorlessly. Faer blinked at her owlishly.
“I did not have to read your mind to know that something troubles you.” They lightly touched her elbow. “What is the matter?”
