I blinked. "Inefficient."
"Yes."
That actually made me laugh. "Wow. That's a new one. My nudity is… what, disrupting your operational capacity?"
"It introduces variables that are unnecessary to the situation."
I stared at him. "You're kidding."
"I am not."
There was no hint of humor in him. None. Just that same rigid control, tightened now, stretched thinner than before. And that… that was interesting. I took a step closer. Just one. He didn't move. But I felt the shift anyway. Subtle. Immediate.
"Variables," I repeated softly. "Like what?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Your species relies heavily on visual stimulus."
"And yours doesn't?"
He paused before muttering, "That is not relevant."
There it was. I smiled, slow and sharp. "It's relevant to me."
Silence stretched between us. Charged. Unsteady in a way it hadn't been before.
I had mercy and pulled the sheet around me, changing the subject. "Tell me, why would the Abyss care aboutme?"
His gaze sharpened. "That," he said, "is something I need to talk to you about."
Of course it was.
"But," he added, "I need you to keep an open mind."
I rolled my eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't stick. I turned away so he wouldn't see it, muttering internally,Yeah, open mind my ass. I've opened my mind already, look how that turned out.
The thought sobered me. Because… yes. I had. I had started to look at thingsdifferently. He might be pushing it, but… I had to consider that my Earth mind just might be out of its depths here a bit. I mean,acascading shower on a spaceship? Look at the screens. Two were still hovering by my palmtop, where I hadn't shut them down. Space was passing by through the viewing window. And the list only went on from there. So maybe, just maybe, I ought to hear him out. I exhaled, let my shoulders drop, and forced the fight to bleed out of me just enough to let reason back in. With deliberate composure, I moved to the seating area and sat down primly, folding my hands in my lap like a woman attending an unwanted lecture.
"All right," I said. "I'm listening."
He studied me for a moment, suspicious, clearly aware that my compliance was provisional at best. Then he straightened, expression shifting into something more serious.
"What do you know," he asked, "about Aelyth?"
I blinked. "Ae—what?"
The word meant nothing to me. Wait, wasn't that what he had called me when he stroked my face? For some reason, theword deeply unsettled me. And judging by the look in his eyes, it didn't seem to sit right with him either.
Dravok didn't answer right away. He watched me the way one might watch a volatile equation, carefully, aware that the slightest misstep could cause it to blow apart.
"An Aelyth," he sighed at last, "is not a mate. Not in the way your species understands it."
Mate? I resisted the urge to laugh. Was he inferring… I felt small, tiny particles of sweat built under my armpits. Great, just great. I just showered. I took a steadying breath to keep my flaring temper under control. "I don't know anything about an Aelyth," I informed him flatly. "So, if this is important—and I'm guessing it is—you're going to have to start at the beginning."
Dravok studied me for a long moment, as if deciding how much truth I could withstand without rejecting it outright.
"Before the Fall," he began, "Arkhevari were not solitary."
