I watch as she walks offscreen, then as Shahar gets up to close the door behind her. My former mate sighs as she sits back down, her own tendrils drifting calmly. Shahar has always been more level-headed than I am; unfortunately, Solvi takes after me in that regard.
“So,” she says. “You have some kind of assessment today…?”
I hum. “The advisory board is coming to examine one of my students’ projects. It should go over easily.”
I would nevertellLyn that, of course, but I do in fact trust her. Shahar seems to be able to read what I’m thinking, because she raises her brows at me.
“You look like you might be pleased if this studentdoesfail.”
I frown. “Never.”
“Don’t be cruel, Kaelion.”
“I’m not,” I say defensively. “I merely expect clean work. You know better than most how important lab safety is.”
Shahar grumbles. “Of course I do,” she says—because yes,of course. On the flotilla, lab safety was of the utmost importance; one mistake could result in the death of a considerable portion of our species’ population.
When my students aren’t safe…it irks me.
My eyes find Lyn again, shrugging on a labcoat then scrubbing at her dark curls. She’s pulling a laser drill from another student’s station—something she has beenexpressly toldnot to do.
“I have to go beforethis studentinjures herself,” I mutter. “Safe travels tomorrow; tell Solvi I love her.”
“I will,” Shahar says. I go to terminate the connection, but Shahar clears her throat. “And Kaelion?”
I eye her, already getting up to stop Lyn. “Yes?”
“Try to take time for yourself too,” Shahar says. “Not just for work and for Solvi. I worry about you.”
The words barely register; through the glass, Walker is currently trying to dissect a translator using the laser drill.
“Uh…good,” I mutter. “Goodbye, Shahar.”
I terminate the connection.
Then I stand, smooth my lab coat, and step out—before my student can get herself killed on university property.
CHAPTER 3
LYN
It’sthe moment of truth.
There’s a nonzero chance getting drunk last night wasn’t genius-level planning. My skull hums, my stomach does a lazy barrel roll, and the lab’s LEDs feel one setting too bright. I’ve got coffee, ibuprofen, and a brazen lie I’m about to tell myself: this will be fine.
The advisory board filters in—two Merati, one Mlok. The uppity-ass merfolk look down their noses at me while the Mlok looks like…well, like a lizardman. Hard to know what they’re thinking, given their lizardness. Rhyss, on the other hand, is perfectly transparent with his emotions, even if he thinks he’s good at hiding them. His electric yellow tendrils flick impatiently, golden eyes narrowed as he watches me.
“Dr. Walker,” he says. “Begin when ready.”
“Ready,” I lie, and I flip the simulation on.
This…it’s going to go fine. I’ve been over and over this,hadgone over and over it even before I came back from the bar last night. Sleeping in my own damn bed would have been more useful than coming back here, but choices were made, and…now all I’ve got is a hope and a prayer that this makes sense.
And, you know, a priceless lab full of equally priceless equipment.
And the chance—if I don’t screw this up—to finally move to live clinical trials.
Real patients. Real results.
