It's a good reminder that I'm not doing this for Kaelion fucking Rhyss. I'm doing it for my grandmother, who struggled with her botched cybernetics her whole life. I'm doing it for all the people who were harmed by that same tech.
So I don't go back to my place in the village.
I go home.
Back to the university.
Back to Kaelion Rhyss’ lab.
CHAPTER 2
KAELION
I enjoy beingthe first person in my lab each morning.
I use the time to collect my thoughts and prepare for the day; to check my students’ projects, ensure the lab is neat and tidy, that nothing exploded overnight—which has, unfortunately, happened before.
Yes. Ienjoymy time alone.
And this morning, I'm far from it.
I scan my comm at the door and it clicks open so I can let myself in. I move to my office in a very specific ritual—put down my satchel, take off my coat and hang it on the hook by my office door. I take a deep breath and quiet my mind, my tendrils relaxing as my shoulders drop.
I go out to the lab next, and it's there that I find an unwelcome surprise.
Lyn Walker.
Asleep at her work station…again.
I’m well aware the human female is a genius— I read her research on re-mapping neural pathways before she even arrived on M'mir. She earned her place in this lab; she will likely help a lot of people one day.
But right now she’s my most problematic student: the one who cuts corners, argues with my every instruction, and has herself convinced that nothing bad can ever happen.
And she is asleep inmy lab, which poses major concerns—given that, the last time this happened, she dozed off in the middle of an experiment that involved an open flame.
“Walker,” I say.
Nothing.
I tap a finger against the table. “Walker.”
She stirs, eyes opening a fraction. “Dr. Rhyss?” Her voice is rough, sleep-worn. “You’re here early.”
“It’s eight,” I reply. “You’re here late.”
She blinks, pushes upright, rubs her face. “I just wanted to fix the headset calibration before the trial clearance review. Didn’t mean to—” She waves at the half-eaten ration bar beside her. “—crash.”
“Sleep is not optional,” I tell her. “In my lab, we stay vigilant. Otherwise?—”
“I know I almost burned down a work station last time,” she growls. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
Gods, she’s irritating.
“No,” I say simply. “I’m not.”
She exhales hard, a breath halfway to a laugh. “Didn’t think so.”
Her hair’s a mess—wild curls framing her face, streaked with gold from the lab lights. She pushes them back with pencil-stained fingers, leaving a faint smear of graphite along her temple.
