Qalu could tell he didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure enough of her hypothesis to speculate aloud, though it seemed as if Helix might be experiencing attraction. The great mothers knew that she was, had been from the beginning, but it was inappropriate to let such feelings flourish. She ought to consider him family, not a potential love interest.

But when he stepped nearer still, she didn’t withdraw. Instead, her head tendrils fluttered up in silent invitation. That was an irrepressible mating overture, and she hoped he didn’t realize as much. Just as she was about to withdraw, his head tendrils quivered to life, and she stilled, scarcely able to believe this was happening.

“Yes?” he whispered.

He’s asking. He doesn’t even understand what he wants to do, but he’s asking.

“Yes,” she said.

Then his head tendrils grazed hers, the only point of contact between them, and pleasure spilled through her, gliding down from her head to the rest of her body. Helix let out a soft sound and his whole body quivered. This was a deeply erogenous zone, much more so than forelimbs, and she stayed quiet as he grew bolder, letting their head tendrils twine together and slide in tender movements.

“It feels so good,” he said, breathless.

[  6  ]

Helix could neither understand nor interpret the sensations currently rioting along his nerve endings.

For the first time, contact didn’t repulse or alarm him. The fluttery touches made his entire being feel as if it were glowing, like nothing he could have ever imagined in his prior existence. There was only Qalu, nothing and no one else in the world, and he focused on her with the intensity he’d previously reserved for complex calculations.

At least, he did until an amused whisper penetrated. “How adorable! They can’t keep their tendrils off one another, even in public.”

“Talk about shameless!”

Two Tiralan went past, one interested, another disapproving, and he realized they must be deviating from social norms. Helix stepped back, immediately regretful when the stimulation ceased. For a few seconds, he stood and breathed, trying to make sense of this physical response.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Confused.”

“Do you want to return to our domicile?”

Our domicile. Hearing that gave him a strangely pleasurable shock, as if there was no question that he belonged. His momentary silence gave her the wrong impression, though, and she turned like she meant to go back the way they’d come.

Immediately, he demurred. “I prefer to finish touring the museum, if time permits.”

“Yes, it does. Do…you have questions?”

“Many, but I need time to process.”

“I understand. Then shall we…?”