When Ice left Alana, he busied himself with work. He arranged for Crimean volunteers to come to his office early the next morning in the hopes of helping her. She’d been so curious about him. If she could ask questions of many Crimeans, perhaps she’d find the answers she was looking for.

Sleep didn’t come easy for Ice that night, and when he did sleep, it didn’t last. The attachment he felt for her didn’t go away like he’d hoped. When he nurtured his attachment, he found himself useless.

He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t work. He even couldn’t form a coherent sentence without sounding like he drank himself into his impaired state.

What has gotten into me?

Why has that human female gotten under my skin so much?

He got up early and went to Alana’s room not long after lightrise. He stepped into her room, pleased to find Alana already awake.

“Holy hell!” Alana stood next to the bed, naked. She turned her back to him and reached for the clothes that lay on top of the sheets. “Do none of you ever knock on a door before barreling through it?”

“No. If the door isn’t locked, it’s an invitation to enter. Did no one explain that?”

“Clearly not.” She pulled pants on, the slick fabric sliding over the curve of her buttocks. Ice found them mesmerizing for some reason. The round, full side of her breast showed as she pulled on a top. When she turned, she frowned at him and crossed her arms. “You could have turned around.”

“Forgive me. You didn’t ask me to, so I didn’t realize you wished that.” She had asked him to on the ship, but not this time. Humans were confusing.

Alana sighed and shook her head. “It’s all right. I’ll learn your ways…eventually.”

Other things confused Ice, too. When he’d told her on the ship that her naked body had no effect on him, he’d been telling the truth. It still didn’t have an effect on him, exactly, but he noted that he did find her form pleasing to look at.

Very pleasing.

He’d felt neutral on the ship. Curious. This time, he’d enjoyed seeing her body. The thought went through his mind that it might be the same thing people used to see in artwork.

The attachment. Could this correlate to why he found her more pleasing?

Ice had no time to consider it. Perhaps he’d spend time thinking about it later, but right now Alana needed to get to work. And he needed to help her.

On the way back to the Ministry of Science, Ice explained that he’d arranged several interviews to help her understand what she was dealing with. She seemed impressed, and asked for some way to take notes of the meetings. Fortunately, Ice had arranged all that while he couldn’t sleep.

Once they arrived, she looked around the room with her hands on her hips. Then she tossed her long, auburn hair over her shoulder, and Ice had that same sensation of enjoying the sight, though he couldn’t understand why.

“So, this is your office?”

“Yes. Feel free to consider it as much yours, for the time being. If you should need to use lab equipment for anything, simply ask.”

Alana shrugged and smiled. “I promise I won’t. Not a scientist.”

Ice pulled a holocube from a cabinet. “Since you don’t have a neuracom, you will need this to record or write down your notes.” He showed her how it worked.

“So, this is basically a computer,” she said.

“More advanced than what you have on Earth.”

“Of course. Are you bragging?”

He smiled. “Do I sound like it?”

“Definitely. And you smiled. I think that was the first time I saw you genuinely smiling since we got off the ship. I like it.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“It is a compliment, Ice.”

“Now you sound angry.”

“I’m not angry. Just a little irritated. Never mind. Forget it.”

Ice watched her thoughtfully. “I read from your internet that something is really wrong when a woman says ‘it’s fine’ or ‘never mind.’”

Alana schooled an unnatural smile on her face. “See this? I’m fine. Let’s go on with it.”

“As you wish.”

Alana took a deep breath and sat in Ice’s chair. “Okay. Have the first one sent in.”

Ice pressed a screen behind him, and in seconds the door opened. He stood behind Alana, intent on observing these interviews and learning what he could.

“This is Nova Windmarcher, Director of Quantum Physics Research and Development for the Imperial Agency.”

Nova was taller than most females and more muscular. She wore her typical stern expression, different from the neutral one most Crimeans wore. But Nova was even more obsessed with work than the average Crimean, and it showed in her impatience with the questions. She’d volunteered, because she said she saw it as a learning experience, but she still seemed eager to get back to her own lab.

“Nova, I’m Alana Watson.”

“Yes, I know who you are.” Nova sat in the provided chair and rested her palms on her thighs.

“All right. Nova, can you tell me how you feel about dating?”

“Dating is a waste of time.”

Alana wrote in the holocube. “Why?”

“The goal of dating is to find a compatible partner. I’m satisfied with my work and social life as it is, therefore I have no need for a partner.”

“Okay, what does your social life consist of?” Alana pulled her hair back into a ponytail and held it with one hand.

“My colleagues and I spend quality time together in a tavern at Moon End imbibing in mild forms of alcohol after we’ve made a particularly worthy breakthrough.”

“I see.” Alana cleared her throat and leaned on her elbows. “What about later in life? Aren’t you concerned you might get lonely without one person close to you to share your life with?”

“Lonely? I’m not sure what that is.”

“Lonely is when you’re alone and wish you weren’t.”

“That won’t happen. I enjoy solitary time, and generally prefer being alone. Avoiding attachments allows me to pursue my interests without interruption or distractions. I see no reason why that would change.”

Alana took a deep breath and made a few notes. “What about your family? Surely you have attachments to them.”

“I’m a decant, lab-created and raised by the Imperial government. I suppose I’m grateful for the life I have, but I feel no attachment to the government beyond loyalty and duty.”

Alana’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “But what about love? Haven’t you ever felt anything close to it?”

“Love? Not that I know of. Though I am fond of a special type of steamed coral pudding. I would enjoy eating it every day. Does that qualify as love?”

Alana wrote in the holocube without answering the question. Ice knew the pudding Nova spoke of. It really was delicious, but he didn’t think he loved it. He liked it a great deal.

After a few more questions, Nova left.

“Was her interview helpful?” Ice asked.

“Um, yes. Because I’m starting to see the problem you’re dealing with. Ice, on earth this would be considered a very personal question, so forgive me if I’m overstepping, but have you ever had sex?”

“Sexual intercourse?”

“Yes, sexual intercourse,” she replied deadpan.

“I haven’t, no.”

“Like seriously?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“Wow. This must be the first time I met a man who never think with his Little Johnny. That’s practically unheard of.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

She waved “never mind”. “Do you think any of the volunteers here today have had sex?”

“It’s not likely. Though a few are elder and may have many years ago before most people lost all interest in it.”

Alana turned in the chair to face him. She looked scandalized. “You’re not even curious about sex, at all?”

“No one is anymore. But some must learn to be, or our species may not survive.”

“Right. That’s why I’m here.”

Ice signaled for the next volunteer to come in. “Brook Windgrass. He’s the Logistic Specialist at Farm Four Two Seven.”

“Hello, Brook,” Alana said. “Can you tell me what you think about dating and marriage?”

Brook paused a moment before saying, “I think they’re novel ideas whose time is past.”

“You don’t wish to be married someday?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, to start a family and be with someone you love for the rest of your life, maybe.”

“Sounds like little more than a hassle.”

Alana held the stylus above the cube, and seemed to be trying to figure out what to say next. “So you’re saying you’ve never loved someone?”

Brook’s eyebrows drew together in concentration. After a long silence, Alana thanked him and told him he could go. She turned to Ice and raised her eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what some of her expressions meant, but he was trying to learn.

After a few more Crimeans had answered Alana’s questions and given similar answers that Ice found himself nodding in agreement to, Alana sighed and leaned back in the chair. Her hair hung over the back of it in soft waves that looked pleasant to the touch.

Would it?

Ice looked away, and tried to focus on the mission. He didn’t have time for trivial things like imagining the softness of hair or anything else. He cleared his throat. “Shall I send the next one in?”

Alana turned back to her notebook and wrote a few sentences. “Might as well. If I interview enough of you, I’m bound to find some who feel differently than the average Crimean.”

“Do you think so?”

“I hope so. Or I’m not sure how much I’m going to be able to accomplish.”

Ice hesitated before touching the screen. “I believe you can help us, Alana. I do wish you would believe it, too.”

She gave him a little smile and said, “Thanks. I’ll try.”

Ice touched the screen to have the next volunteer sent in, but thought about the color of Alana’s lips for the first thirty seconds of the interview and completely missed the questions and answers.