“Jesus,” I say almost as a prayer more than taking the Lord’s name in vain. “I know, but still…”
Dr. Veil gives me a sympathetic look but says nothing more, so I thank her and go.
Later that night, during the Watching, I decide to do some studying to take my mind off of what happened with Rafe, or rather, studying with the hope that I can impress him again, and be orgasmically rewarded. Maybe even to completion.
My Venus Lock pulses slightly when I think about his grey finger over the controls and the look on his face when he said, “Good.”
I cross my legs and try to focus on my screen and the information in front of me.
My rooms are dark except for the pale light from the holographic terminal. The screen shifts as I scroll through pages of galactic law that should be far beyond me—trade statutes, genetic classifications, extradition protocols. But surprisingly, they are not.
My translator hums softly behind my ear, its rhythm syncing with my pulse. Every word I read folds into meaning before I consciously translate it. Sentences reorder themselves into patterns of logic that feel obvious once I see them. It’s like a door in my mind has opened, and I can’t remember when it was ever locked.
I wonder when I return to Earth if I’ll be able to take my translator with me. I imagine all the things I could accomplish and the kind of successes I could achieve if I could understand and process information like this back home.
I let that thought slip away as I start cross-referencing human clauses with Imperial property codes. The contradictions leap out—paragraphs that cancel one another, legal precedents written centuries apart but never reconciled. I mark them automatically, as if I’ve done this kind of work my entire life.
A strange exhilaration builds. The longer I study, the faster I think. My fingers move across the console before I realize I’m speaking aloud, whispering arguments I could use against thetrainers, or against the IGC itself.
When I pause, the screen flashes a faint sigil:
I blink. My thoughts are too quick to stop. I toggle the notice away.
I receive a message from Sovereign Rafe:
You’ve accessed two restricted databases in one session. That’s advanced even for Reima Two analysts. Impressive.
Oh shit, am I in trouble? Was I not supposed to do that? I reply:
Sorry. I didn’t mean to.
Don’t apologize. I told you the translator was a gift. It reveals what your species is capable of when properly directed.
I stare at the message. Then I sit in the blue glow of the holographic computer, my reflection watching me from the console’s surface. The woman staring back at me is me, of course, but I swear my eyes look sharper and more intelligent. I dismissthe computer’s warning and open the archives again and resume my work.The more I learn, the more I can do for humanity.
28
DAY TWO OF TRAINING, LORIAN
The Celestial SpireShrine is located in the deepest level of the hotel, where few staff members have ever been permitted. Twelve pedestals arranged in a perfect circle support holographic representations of the Imperial goddesses, their ethereal forms rotating slowly in the dim light.
I wait in the center of the shrine, dressed in ceremonial robes that mark me as a child of the Empire despite my Reima Two citizenship. The floor beneath my feet bears the silver goddess silhouette against twelve starbursts, with the motto “Through Devotion, We Ascend” inscribed in Imperial script.
When the doors seal behind Eve with a soft pneumatic hiss, she stops just inside the threshold. I allow her a minute to adjust to the atmosphere of otherworldly reverence. Then she bows quickly as if she just remembered what she’s doing here.
“Stand up straight and let me see you. I know my brother left you wanting yesterday,” I say without preamble. “Rafe believes in precise measurements and technological control. He thinks arousal can be quantified and managed like any other resource. But I think he’s wrong, especially when it comes to humans.”
I step closer to her and run the back of my hand over her right cheek. “Ah, but still, my brother made an impression on you.” I watch as both of her pale cheeks become flushed. “You enjoyed his direct training.”
“Yes, Sovereign.”
“Hopefully, you’ll enjoy mine more,” I say. “Welcome to my sanctuary. This is where I commune with the divine and seek absolution. Tell me, Eve, when did you last make a confession? That’s what it’s called in your human religion, right? Although I can’t always count on galactic information on Earth to be correct.”
“Yes, Sovereign... it's been years. But, begging your pardon, I don’t think it would count to… confess to alien gods.”
“Of course you don’t understand. Here, confession is about understanding the beauty of what your human religion callssin.” I move closer, watching her pupils dilate. “Your god offers salvation through suffering.” I run a hand down her back. “Stand completely still for me.” I wait until she does and then I say nothing. I just step back and observe this beautiful little human woman before me.
Then, silently, I run a hand down the side of her arm, just barely caressing the side of one of her breasts over her uniform before following her body, down past her waist and the curve of her hips.
