Something that intrigued Ethan about life on this side of the Firewall was the smell of things. His life before had been a sterile white realm of pure thought and total understanding, devoid of any physical sense or pleasure. The Sangha had outlawed such things centuries ago.

But here with Rachel? Things were different. He could smell the skin of her bosom, a complex warm fragrance that he wanted to drink down even as the naked physicality of it unnerved him. He was helpless before her, but why? The potion he drank? That was part of it, he supposed. Goosebumps rose on his skin, spreading out from his stomach to his face, chest and other tender parts.

Would Francesca forgive him for what he was about to do? Surely. They had led a nearly perfect symbiotic coexistence in his other life, but what would she think of this place? She would probably be even more disoriented. She could even be here, she could be Rachel for all he knew.

“Kiss me.” She said, pulling him down against her.

He did, with enthusiasm.