Chapter 4: One and One make Three

Michael Hawthorne stood gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their guest suite, watching the two suns sink into the far horizon. He felt little warmth from either; one was large but pale yellow; the other was a much smaller, gleaming white disc. He had no idea how far either sun was from the planet, but compared to the blazing hot brilliance of Sol in his home system, he knew that the Masi'shen suns were not only much farther from this planet, but they were much less intense. This was an "ice planet." It was nothing less than a miracle that Dee'rah's people had evolved and overcome the obstacles to become one of the foremost space-faring races of the galaxy. But that was not his concern just now, except as a moment of intellectual curiosity.

Michael stretched himself, standing tall before the window. He was mostly unclothed but for a white fiber wrap around his waist that reached nearly to his knees. He dug his toes deeply into the lush carpet. He swung his outstretched arms over his head and nearly touched the fiber paneled ceiling. He lowered his arms, stretched them outward again, and swiveled himself in half circles from his hips. He loosened and worked his body. His muscles and joints felt stiff from confinement in the healing chamber during their long voyage from Earth aboard the T'shu-niach

Michael had not seen himself in a mirror, but looking down at himself, at his chest, waist, arms and legs, he knew that he had undergone a profound transformation. His body no longer bore the scars of two wars, the Siple Island helicopter crash, or the Pahsimeroi Valley gunshot wound. His skin was smooth and unblemished, the skin of a mature male, firm and slightly textured. Despite his maturity, no hair remained anywhere on his body but for a cap of golden blonde hair on his head. His Scandinavian heritage gave him a fair complexion and blonde hair, but this was different. His new hair was more golden than blonde and it lay wavy and thick, closely upon his head like a skullcap. He showed not the least hint of male-pattern baldness despite his thirty-eight earth-years age.

His face retained his original features: a high, proud forehead; prominently crested brows above deep-set blue eyes; a narrow, sharply defined nose with broad nostrils; and a wide, generous mouth framed with full lips. His chin was his good feature: strong, square set, with a broad jaw. His head sat on a strong neck over square and generously muscled shoulders.

He felt good ... better, in fact, than he could ever remember. He was not yet aware of it, but he had grown taller in the healing chamber. He'd been a tall man, standing six feet, six inches. Now he towered a full seven feet and weighed 240 pounds, an almost slender weight given his new height.

He glowed with a golden radiance. He'd be a long, long time becoming accustomed to that, despite his time with Dee'rah and her parents, and the Masi'shen that he knew. All Masi'shen had a soft, golden glow.

He continued to gaze out of the window at the suns sinking into the far distance. He missed his love, his Dee'rah. There had been only a fleeting moment to embrace her, to hold her closely, to exchange whispered words of welcome and love. They were quick to share their profound appreciation that they were together, and would be together for as long as they lived. But there had been too much haste, too few moments, before she slipped away from him. She went into the healing chamber, and would be confined there for several weeks. She, too, was undergoing a transformation. It was similar to his, but she would assume human qualities. When she emerged in several weeks time, they would be the most unique couple in the galaxy.