In the full view from our house, the Jaan troops took control over the dig site.

Bemariq secluded himself in his study. On his rare forays out, he barely said a word to me and certainly never glanced out from the window.

My husband only came out to go post letters, to attend meetings at Heva and for long solitary walks in the hills above. He cooked nothing and never touched anything I prepared. Honeydew and drink were his sustenance.

To him I was a ghost stalking the house. But after what I had done, I didn't deserve to demand his attention.

Instead, I kept myself out of his way. He never went to the dig site, so I took over running it.

Or what was left of our long work together. The fresh workers paid by the Jaan piled earth in the excavation. I did my best to save any artefacts in the ground, or at least write down their original context in the sediment. In mere days the Jaan undid, what had taken us months to achieve.

At night, I watched through spyglass the flickering light up in the crags. On his daily expeditions, Bemariq must have been searching for the hypothetical secondary entrance. The hills were a maze of rock and ravines. As such, the search was hopeless to the point that the Jaan didn't bother stopping him.

Even during the rare occasion that he was home at night, Bemariq slept on the couch in his study. My nights were cold, no matter how many blankets I piled on myself.

Anxiety and guilt frequently struck me dizzy, and I ignored the headaches and pain in my stomach as brought by stress. I didn't consider the coming onset of my menarche, until my lower abdomen twisted in a violent cramp.

My new anatomy appeared healthy from the outside, but there was no assurance that the insides weren't horribly dysfunctional. The machines of the past hadn't exactly shown soundness of mind. A human body was itself a delicate machine: even slight errors lead to agony and loss of function.

Because of such fear, I found my need for my husband's touch constantly stoked. Yet his resentment would have hurt me more than loneliness.

I stood silently behind the door of his study for dozens of heartbeats, before I knocked on the door. "Bem? Are you busy?"

No answer. I was about lose my nerve, when Bemariq said: "What do you want, Sirin?"

After deep breath, I pushed the door open. "I need to talk to you."

Bemariq turned on his chair to stare at me. No emotion showed on his face. Despite his lack of enthusiasm at the sight of me, nothing indicated that he couldn't stand my presence.

My legs were weak. I had to take support from the door sill. "I understand that you are furious..."

Bemariq closed his eyes and scowled. "I find myself so."

"I'm sorry..." The words poured from my mouth. "I should have supported you, as a proper wife does. But instead I exploited your love, just to get you out of that vault. Bem, if you have to, work your anger on me. I deserve and can take it. I might even enjoy it, a little." I swallowed. "Just keep me close, for a while at least."

My husband opened his eyes, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. He stood up and walked to me. I flinched from the rapid movement of his arms. After a startling moment I was in a tight embrace.

A frustrated sigh --almost a sob-- escaped my Bemariq's throat. I could allow my own snivelling, and tears warmed my cheeks.

Bemariq guided me to sit with him on the couch. I leaned against him. My hand clutched his hand hard.

His warm lips touched my forehead. "I'm sorry."

"It's fin--" My voice cracked. "--fine..."

"No. I have acted like brat. I thought I protected you from my ill temper by avoiding you. But that only hurt both us." He brushed my hair. "Back in the chamber, I very well knew, what you were doing. Yet here I am, with you."

A strangled sound of joy escaped my throat. I calmed my voice with a sigh and said: "That's sweet."

Bemariq brushed my cheek. His skin was rough but its touch was welcome. He said: "So are you."

I smiled wide to myself and pressed against him. "What do you plan to do now?"

"To wait and see. The Conglomerate will soon make its move. I've sent letters, in hopes of giving our officials enough accurate information, so that their decisions might be even half-rational."

"Did you tell them anything about us or me?"

"Of course not. Nothing about you is relevant to the research."

My heart sunk. "So you plan to go back inside."

"Yes, but I thought about the Censor's offer." Bemariq rubbed my wedding ring between his thumb and finger. "There's no hurry to decide either way, is there? The Censor knows, how to wait."

"Or someone else could take your place."

He moved his hands to my waist and lifted me to sit on his lap. "Enough about me. What did the physician say about you?"

"I didn't send for one." My gaze fell. "The thought was... intimidating."

Bemariq placed his arms around me. "I should have supported you. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course." I shifted in the awkward position and wrapped my arms around his neck. The unkempt stubble was turning into an untidy beard, but it didn't stop me from kissing his cheek.

A sharp spasm raked my lower inside. I tried not to show the pain, but my wince was enough for Bemariq to notice.

His expression grew worried. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes." I put on a wide grin. "It's just the womanly cycle."

"You need to see a physician." Bemariq pulled the hem of my gown up my leg. "Afterwards everything is assuredly healthy, we can do our own examinations."

The continued cramp almost killed my attempt at a cute smile. Bemariq's touch was what I had wanted; little discomfort could be ignored.

My skin shivered, as the intruding yet welcome fingers crawled into my drawers. The man's hand brushed up my thigh to the the fresh stubble over my crotch. I shuddered.

"The way you squirm is endearing", my husband murmured. His finger rubbed my lower lips.

I flinched. No heat was driven into me. Instead, my body was disagreeably tender under his touch.

"Bem..." I grunted.

"What's wrong?" Bemariq pulled his hand out. His eyes got stuck staring at his fingers. Crimson glistened on them.

The man's face twisted from fright. I was too light-headed to notice my own reaction. I was bleeding, either due to a miracle or misfortune.

My vision spun. Strong arms lifted me towards the ceiling and carried me through space, which stretched beyond my senses.

Bandages helped to control the flux, but not before I caused an odious mess. Sedatives did a bit to tame the knife, which twisted inside my abdomen.

Bemariq paced around our bedroom and intermittently entreated me to forgive him. My anaemic countenance hampered my attempts to reassure him.

Only an hour after having been sent for, the familiar physician, who had treated Bemariq, arrived. I asked my husband to leave the room. Mostly for his sake: the poor man was working himself into a paroxysm out of his worry and guilt.

The physician placed her bag on the bed beside my feet. "I'm not really an expert on 'women's business', as the message said."

"But you are a physician and a woman", I said. "And my condition requires discretion."

I explained the peculiar circumstances, which had left my menarche to such a late date.

"If not for the starfarer vault..." The physician gave me a half-smile. "I would assume you were playing a joke of poor taste on me. You and the associate were married before this 'reproductive rearrangement'."

"Yes. That is true."

The physician shrugged. "It's not my place to wonder about the personal lives of my patients. Let's get to the matter at hand."

After the rather intrusive examination, I was glad that among the Roluans, women could practice medicine. Such a probing shouldn't be done to me by any man save my husband.

The physician was kind enough to give a me a quick lesson on certain hidden aspects about hygiene, convenience and pleasure as a woman. They were in retrospect rather obvious, but it would have taken me a while to discover them by myself.

She gave me a 'little helper', a precaution to stop the flux in an unobtrusive and healthy manner. I felt foolish for not having sought one already.

The fretful Bemariq was allowed back into the room.

"Will Sirin be alright?" he asked.

"Yes, most likely", the physician said. "Though the... incident was significantly more drastic than common."

My husband frowned. "Hopefully it won't repeat in this severity. Is there any treatment?"

As my condition was due to starfarer technology, the physician wasn't comfortable prescribing anything beyond hearty food for general health and mild sedatives for the pain. She took her leave, and Bemariq went to cook supper.

I was already feeling better, but I didn't mind resting a little longer in the bed.

Bemariq's return woke me from a doze. He brought a tray with a steaming bowl to my lap.

"You didn't ask me, if I actually was hungry", I said.

His expression turned worried. "You aren't?"

I smiled wide. "In truth, I'm famished."

My husband lay next to me, careful not to upset the bed. I lifted a spoonful towards my mouth, but stopped.

"Are you going to stare at me eat?" I asked.

His smile widened. "Yes."

"You don't find me disgusting? For spilling my humours on your lap?"

"No." Bemariq brushed my thigh. "I admit was scared for your sake. But enough of that. I don't want to ruin your appetite."

Despite the simplicity of the meal, my husband's cooking was beyond delicious after the break.

The abhorrent flow continued for six days and nights more. But with the little precaution, I avoided staining more clothes and bedsheets, and with the right dosage of sedatives I could concentrate on other things than being miserable.

Though I was listless and pale, I made sure to put on a brave face for Bemariq. I did my share of chores around the house, and ate my full portions, even if my stomach was a tight unyielding clump.

Bemariq's concern for me was endearing, but it worked to enhance my own worry, by making it seem I was dying.

On the seventh day, my ordeal ended, and I was filled with relief. I wasn't doomed to such dreadful existence.

But the ordeal would return. I hoped the intensity had been due to temporary starfarer adjustments, and I wouldn't have to go through quite the same experience again.

The door bell rang with purposeful length. Bemariq stood up from the bed and looked out of the window down to the front door.

"Who is it?" I asked. The warmth of his kiss lingered on my cheek.

"A whole entourage. Inspector Ansis and ni Salng among them." Bemariq let out an amused sigh full of weariness. "They don't appear to be here to congratulate us."

I moved to stand up, but Bemariq gestured me to remain. He said: "I'll go. You need to rest. Besides, you are undressed."

Bemariq disappeared downstairs. I got off the bed and wrapped my house robe around myself. On my toes, I sneaked to where I could eavesdrop and sat on the floor.

The Roluans barged in. Both Ansis and ni Salng spoke, among three other. Their voices were terse, almost accusatory but polite. The floor between me and them made it hard for me to understand the flowing Roluish.

They spoke of a fleet and mentioned the Conglomerate. By his tone, Bemariq shared in the worry, and soon the harshness disappeared from the Roluan voices.

Bemariq bid the visitors farewell. The front door clunked close, and Bemariq's steps came upwards.

I put on my best innocent smile, as my husband emerged from the stairwell.

He smirked. "Did you hear, what they said?"

"Something about Conglomerate navy, perhaps?"

"Yes. They have sent their own 'diplomatic expedition'. The Roluans suspected that I had invited them. I noted that the Conglomerate ships must have been on their way before the Jaan convoy arrived. It's all beside the point. 'Our boys' have already passed the outer Roluan islands."

Bemariq helped me stand. I asked: "What could they be planning?"

"Who knows? However, according to the Roluan intelligence report, the convoy lacks the size to truly contest the Heva harbour. Diplomacy seems to be on 'our' table." Bemariq made a tired smile.

I bit my lip. The man took the hint and stepped closer. Though he wasn't all that taller than me, his shoulders blocked my path. I shrunk against the wall to enhance the impression of vulnerability.

The man spoke in a low voice: "I think we were in middle of something."

A hand took a firm grip of my jaw and guided me to a kiss. While I was busy concentrating on his lips, Bemariq opened the belt of my house robe. I let the garment fall off me and wrapped my arms around my husband's neck. He lifted me up and carried me back to the bedroom, where he placed me on the bed.

I had little time to admire my husband's body --those distinct lines of muscle covering his tall frame--, before he was undressed and lay beside me. He pulled the blanket on us, thus preserving the already uncovered mysteries.

Giggling into my moans, I held my arms around the man, as his hands worked deftly on me. The frustration of the past days had piled up as desire, and Bemariq knew how to relieve it.

I was left as quivering pile of satisfied mush.

As soon as I caught my breath, I dove below the blanket to return the favour with my lips and tongue. Fingers tucked my hair, but not hard enough to hurt.

The warm slimy signal of his masculine satisfaction filled my mouth. I swallowed and sucked him clean. I clambered from the bed, smiled at Bemariq and hurried to the bathroom.

After cleaning my mouth, I examined myself in the mirror. How oddly natural my form was, despite bearing little similarity to what I been only a little over a year before.

Gone was the scrawny boyish shape. My hips now flared as a signal of the fertility the machines had wanted to force on me. I had an even more squashed waist and breasts of a size at the brink of fashionable heft. The latest change --that in my groin-- was easily the most drastic, despite its rather innocent appearance.

Rationally, I should have been distressed, anguishing over my lost identity. No man could have welcomed such a loss of their manhood like I had.

'Sirin' must have started as more than a false identity created to fool Bemariq. My old name now meant nothing to me. Lady Usinilim was legal fiction, haphazard tonics and the result of abusing capricious ancient technology. Yet I was her.

I was lucky to have found my husband. Bemariq had all the manhood I needed. With a coy smile on my face, I returned to him.