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below it hung an etched piece of sea glass with a symbol.It looked like a crest of some kind, featuring two figures giving offerings. I was fluent in over 20,000 of the symbols of my language, and this didn’t resemble anything that I recognized.

He moved aside to allow me in and raised his chin in a sign of good will. I looked around the room. It was much like mine except ill-kempt. Clothing was spread across the floor, empty food packaging littered the tables beside the bed, and there were smudges on every visible surface.

“Hello, Tsuṣuṣe, my fellow, Darius. Thank you for meeting with me.” I bowed my head to him. “How long have you been landside?”

“Long enough.”

“And what is the status?”

“I have a few options, but I am still acclimating.”

I sensed his lack of commitment in his answers but also his tense posture. Why was he so reluctant to share with me?

“How have your interactions been?” I asked.

“They have been somewhat limited. I find the humans disagreeable overall. They expect silence or trivial blather from me, and some of them treat me as a thief or act frightened of me. I cannot gauge what is required, and I dislike the guessing games,” He answered.

“Have you forgotten to pay for an article? The humans here expect payment for everything.” I aimed to be helpful, but he clearly did not see my tip this way.

“I am no thief!” His posture straightened, and he stood even taller somehow, flexing his chest.

“I apologize, fellow. I did not mean to suggest intent. I simply want to understand why the humans would treat you poorly. Surely, there is some because that can be avoided.”

His eyes glinted and became slits among the sharp features of his face. “This is their way. My actions play no role. It is what I am that they hate. You would do better to have your own concerns in mind. Although, as a lighter-skinned human and female at that, I doubt that you will suffer as much on this mission as I.”

I stood silent for a moment and puzzled over what he’d just said. How could housing a female reproductive make some kind of difference? Humans were hardly sexually dimorphic, certainly not like my people with the size differential clearly favoring females. Perhaps females were culturally dominant here.

He also made mention of skin tone. The population of humans was full of diverse features and colorations all mixed in single communities. How could that be if skin color had deleterious connotations? How could they survive together if they were truly so different as that idea suggested?

He continued to stare at me as I thought, so I needed to change the trajectory of the discussion. “Where have you focused your efforts?”

“I have primarily spent time in local commercial areas. I was told that bars and stores were good places for hunting. I also noticed many young human women entering an animal sanctuary, so perhaps, I will investigate there tomorrow.”

“That is a clever idea. Perhaps there is voluntary work available there. The hospital has such work available. Those who participate are called candy stripers,” I said, offering the suggestion.

“Hospital? A house of illness?” he asked, his eyebrows raising and spine straightening.

Embarrassed, I explained, “Yes. The modification was physically very stressful for me, so I was taken to one while unconscious. However, I met a candy striper there and was able to begin the bonding process. Perhaps, you could meet one there as well.”

The intent behind the glint in his eyes was hard to identify, but his rigid posture and stiff jaw suggested aggression, perhaps competitiveness. Regardless, I didn't know how to reassure him that I was an ally here. I often had this problem at the tsez̈ø, feeling a bit out of place in my desire to appease and reconcile. While my colleagues and fellows were vital to my life in many ways, I desired a certain closeness that they did not need.

“Do you have suggestions for me?” I asked, trying to make amends.

“No. I was instructed to provide you with some more resources, though.” He dug through the pile of clothing on the ground and pulled out a thick wad of bills, then handed them to me. “Purchase new clothing. How you display your body matters.”

The way that he looked at me from the top of my head to my feet and back up reminded me of the man in the inn who’d shouted at me. I was unsure of what to make of it. Judgement?

“May I ask you a question, fellow?”

“Yes.”

“What is the meaning of ‘towel head’? I am proficient in English, but I do not know the meaning of this phrase.”

He let a puff of air out of his nostrils and closed his eyes. His posture slackened slightly and then he stood up straight again, “It is a slur. Perhaps your skin tone is not light enough to afford you an easy mission. If you find that the humans are disagreeable and treat you badly for any reason, or should you hear that phrase again, please call upon me. I know of someone who may be interested in your case, if you struggle.”

“I see. Thank you, Tsuṣuṣe. I wish you good luck in your mission,” I said, walking back to the door.

“And you,” he said, opening it and closing it swiftly as soon as my feet were outside of its swinging path.

Chapter 4

A

fter the short meeting, I returned to my room, tired and sore. I needed to eat. I searched the satchel for rations and found an emergency pack. After the delectable fish sandwich from the day before, I found the flavor bland and texture disagreeable, but I made it through the package of waterlogged foodstuffs regardless. And, I was better for it, as I felt much improved quickly after.

Now that I’d made a connection with another trialist and eaten, I was ready to challenge the device again. After I’d used it to

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