Page 1 of Alien Healer’s Mate

1

Kellat had lost count of how many hours he’d been staring at the same bank of readouts, and they stubbornly refused to change.

The medical bay on Devan Station ran quiet this late in the station’s night-cycle. The lighting was dim, the soft hum of the atmospheric recyclers in tune with the rhythmic beep of each bay’s monitors. It was peaceful. Calm and serene… unlike in the day when the place was little more than organized chaos.

Folding his arms, he stood at the foot of the bed in the first high-dependency bay and watched the slow rise and fall of the chest of the female who lay there. Delilah. He’d said it so many times to himself over the last few days that it had stopped sounding foreign and just sounded like his.

His gaze roamed over her. She was tiny and beautiful, with a small, heart-shaped face, a button of a nose, and full, pink lips. Her pale hair fanned out on the pillow around her. He curled his hand into a fist, fingers itching to reach out and run the silken strands through them. He’d kept it combed and nice, but dark roots showed through the blonde. A small smile curved his lips… if she cared enough to change her hair color, she’d probably be pissed about that when she woke up.

His smile faltered. If she woke up.

His jaw tightened, and he forced the thought aside. She was stable. Her vitals were good. The brain activity the monitors picked up was… unexpected, but not dangerous. She’d wake.

“You’re staring again.”

Kellat didn’t turn. The voice came from his left, where Miisan had projected herself into the physical plane. The AI’s holographic form was precise down to the last detail. A Latharian female in neat healer’s robes, dark hair pinned back, hands clasped in front of her. She could have passed for one of his junior healers if not for the faint shimmer at her edges and the way the light didn’t quite land right on her skin. And the fact that the lathar had precisely one full-blooded female left.

“I’m monitoring,” he said.

“You’re brooding.” Miisan’s lips curved upward slightly. “My sensors indicate a thirty-seven percent increase in brood-intensity over the last hour.”

“Your sensors need recalibrating.”

“My sensors are operating at optimal efficiency.” She moved to stand beside him. “You should eat something. Or sleep. Preferably both.”

He grunted but didn’t move.

Miisan tilted her head, studying the readouts. “Her neural patterns continue to shift. The remapping is progressing faster than your initial projections.”

“I noticed.”

“It’s remarkable. I’ve run the comparison you requested against the Latharian genome database.” She produced a dataflex from thin air, the holographic object solid enough to cast a faint shadow. “The divergence between baseline human genetics and the sequence markers in this female’s DNA is extreme. Nearly incompatible.”

Kellat slid her a sideways glance. “We knew that. Humans and Lathar share an ancestor species. The genetic drift is significant, but the base code is the same.”

“Significant is an understatement.” Miisan held the flex out so he could see. “I’m flagging four hundred and seventeen points of major divergence. And yet the healing response I’m observing…”

“Run the analysis again,” he said. “Full genomic mapping. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with before she wakes.”

“Before you tell her,” Miisan corrected.

He shot her a look, but the AI didn’t flinch.

“Your match data is flagged in the system,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“You’ve been standing there for three hours.”

Kellat turned back to the bed. Delilah’s fingers twitched. A dream, maybe. The neural scans said she wasn’t conscious, but her brain was active in a way he hadn’t seen before… rewriting pathways the crash should have destroyed, which shouldn’t have been possible, not in a human. Some of the older clans with regen capability, maybe, but not in a human…

“Kirr M’Aab commed you,” Miisan added. “He’s requesting a status update on Delilah.”

“He can wait.”

“He’s been waiting for two hours.”

Kellat scrubbed a hand over his face. His braids had come loose on one side. He’d deal with them later. Or not. It wasn’t like Delilah was going to care what his hair looked like. She wasn’t going to care about anything until she opened her eyes.