Aurelie had never in her life been to a spa. The thought had never even crossed her mind; she wasn’t sure she’d actually known the SC had a spa.

Alvedo, however, was apparently a regular, and was greeted by everyone with cheery hellos as they arrived. As a Human, she had a different pampering regiment to him, but the staff readily agreed to let the two stay together throughout.

Aurelie explained what had happened after DesUas had been sent away- her meeting with H13, learning as much as she could about Human’s Earth in the closet after… and her run in with Cora. With every sentence, it felt like a weight was lifting off her shoulder. Gram by gram, until she felt a hundred kilos lighter.

As much as she hated to admit it, everyone was right- Humans needed something to confide in. Be it a journal, a parent, or a collea- friend. Or a friend.

“What actually happened with you and Cora?” Alvedo asked as she finished. One of the attendants was currently rubbing some kind of goo all over his slate grey skin. It looked both sticky and oily at the same time, and Aurelie had no idea what it was. Her own attendant had just finished combing out her long curls, and was now folding sections of hair into what felt like an incredibly intricate braid.

“It was years ago. I don’t think she even remembers- maybe it’s weird that I do? I probably should have let it go by now. It’s just- every time I see her, I think about it.” He didn’t reply, just waited patiently for a response. She sighed. “Did you know she was the first other Human I ever met?”

#

The hall was large, and stale with the smell of old breath. Several hundred recruits of all different races mingled, stickers placed in whatever conspicuous position their anatomy allowed stating their names to spare new acquaintances the effort of remembering them. Aurelie hadn’t used an analogue stylus since her journaling days, and between that and the thick ink point she was sure her name was nearly illegible. Wandering through, her translation headset picked up snippets of conversation, unable to keep up with the myriad voices.

“-it’s an office job, don’t see why we have to go through basic training-“

“-never seen a Chitinous Farer before, can you believe-“

“-I’m eating twelve meals per sleep cycle because I’m trying to build muscle-“

It wasn’t that Aurelie was out of her depth. She knew how to make conversation, had had at least casual friendships at various times in the Displacement Home, and was more than accustomed to interacting with other races. However, she wasn’t used to people not knowing who she was; in this room, she wasn’t ‘the only Human in the Displacement Home.’ Aurelie Jane, that ‘weird Human who does weird Human things’: grows slowly, doesn’t understand basic pan-dimensional equations, and everything else that was said. Here, she was just another new recruit. Totally anonymous.

And she was loving it.

So she was making her way around the room and putting off talking with anyone to enjoy her time as an unknown. People could learn her name and her story later. For now, she was a face among a sea of faces. There were probably even other Humans in here somewhere- she definitely saw a handful earlier at the welcoming speech, in which the president of the Space-Time Bureau welcomed the new recruits. Not the only Human was a marvellous feeling for sure.

Then the crowd shifted and Aurelie saw her.

A human female was talking animatedly to an Aredbyne who was looking decidedly skinny- probably only a day or two away from her meal. The Human was grinning and waving her arms as she spoke, the long hair (it was a few months before she would cut it short) swishing back and forth as her head moved. Aurelie had consumed enough Human media to know that she was an attractive Human. Very attractive.

She was also the first other Human that Aurelie had seen up close, and Aurelie knew at once that she had to speak to her.

Edging closer, Aurelie tried to decide on how best to break into the conversation. Internally, she was screaming; externally, she was trying to maintain a calm demeanour. Luckily, she was spared, as the Aredbyne looked up and smiled.

“Oh hey look, here’s another Human. Looks like you won’t be the only one at the office.”

“Of course I won’t be- time is our forte, it would be ridiculous for there not to be loads of us.” The other Human turned, looked up at Aurelie, and flashed a grin. “Hey, I’m Cora- I’m going into Space-Time consistency and home relocation.” Cora stuck out her hand, which Aurelie awkwardly shook; she’d only seen the action done in Human media, and by the confused blink Cora gave her she’d evidently done something wrong. Still, there was time to recover the situation- all did not have to be lost.

“Aurelie Jane. I’m going into Space-Time management.” Cora’s eyebrows shot up.

“Field work, really? Wow, that’s impressive. I couldn’t do that.” Her smile returned, impish. “I don’t run. Or climb. Or do anything that requires me to leave the comfort of my seat, really.” Her words came quick, but with long pauses between sentences that lent a curious stop-start quality to her speech.

“But aren’t you concerned about your cardiovascular health? You do know that lack of regular stimulation can lead to weakness and arterial plaques in later life?” Cora’s smile dropped again.

“Yes, I did take Human anatomy. I just don’t care. Are you not concerned that malnutrition can lead to hormone imbalances and osteoporosis in later life?” Aurelie looked down at her already skinny frame, sighed and pushed her hair back from her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like- I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. Can we try that again? I’m Aurelie Jane.” She stuck her hand out again, and this time the handshake felt like it went much better.

“Cora Feducio. Nice to meet you. I think the introductory presentation is starting soon- shall we head in?”

They sat next to each other at the talk- a rather uninspiring affair involving an Aredbyne with a thick lisp that came through awfully on the translation headset- but were split off into different groups for basic training afterwards.

“What’s your screen handle?” asked Cora before they split. “I’ll message you. We should hang out, yeah? It’ll be nice to see a Human face.”

The following few weeks passed in a blur of field training, systems training, and settling in: as someone doing field work and operating the Space-Time Machines, Aurelie found herself with probably twice as much work as Cora. The other Human seemed magnetic, and soon had managed to find a cluster of two dozen Human recruits, all of whom were added into a large group chat called Sapiens Sapiens (Sure). In their off time, they would go for food, for drinks, or consume media together in each other’s rooms at the barracks. Aurelie joined them when her workload allowed, but it was tough.

There were verbal and non-verbal communications that she’d never encountered in Human media. There were approximately fifty different ways to shake hands, including high-fives, low-fives, three taps, fist bumps and ‘turkeys’, all of which the other Humans seemed to know. There were cultural in jokes. There was chatter- so much chatter. Aurelie had always been written off as ‘talkative, because duh, all Humans are talkative.’ She was quickly realising that by Human standards, she wasn’t that talkative at all.

Somehow, without any clear indication as to the rhyme or reason of the matter, a social hierarchy was formed, with certain Humans being more sought after for their conversation and their time. Aurelie didn’t even realise it was happening until she found herself at the bottom of it.

Some of the Humans were new to translation headsets, and several pairs or trios with the same common language would whip off their headsets when possible to just talk ‘normally’.

“She’s a right weirdo. It’s kind of like talking to an AI in a Human skin,” said Azberjee once, tilting his head slightly towards Aurelie, in a move that might have been imperceptible had Aurelie’s own headset not been merrily translating everything he said. Jen’aii, whose back was to Aurelie, snickered.

“I think her parents probably caught on early, that’s why they got rid of her.”

That was another thing Aurelie had learnt. It wasn’t just her Displacement Home that had barely any Humans: Humans isplaces in general were exceedingly rare. Phrases such as ‘strong familial ties’ ‘sense of community’ ‘orphans’ and ‘adoption’ all came up when she tried researching it on her own.

Somehow, with this group of Humans, Aurelie felt even more out of place than she did in the Displacement Home when she was the only one there. This only grew the longer she knew them- nights she had off, she could see disappointment reflected in some faces when she came out for drinks with the group. Certain members would barely speak to her, even when they were sat right next to each other. Muttered complaints were picked up by the ever diligent translation headset.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Of course, not all of them were like this. There were other Humans that were nice and friendly regardless of how strange they might have thought she was. Cora, who had quickly shot to the top of the unspoken hierarchy, was one of them- happy to chat, wouldn’t pull a face when she found herself sat next to Aurelie on the movie nights. However, as the top of the social order, she also had the entire rest of the group vying for her attention, for her conversation, and for the spaces next to her.

Cora didn’t actively try to reach out to Aurelie, and Aurelie couldn’t hold that against her: it’s not like the other Human owed her. There was no obligation on Cora’s part to make Aurelie feel included, just because they had been the first ones to meet each other. Deep down, Aurelie was just happy she was nice. Perhaps, after basic training, they could be better friends.

Even deeper down, sat in a small, unacknowledged part of her that Aurelie liked to pretend she didn’t have, stirred something else. It made itself known when Cora flashed a smile, or brushed against Aurelie, or were pressed next to each other during media evenings. Going by the behaviour of the others, Aurelie was far from the only one who felt this way, which was both terrifying and reassuring. She didn’t know what to do about any of that, so she squashed it down and carried on trying to assimilate with the group.

Things came to a head around six months after they arrived: while Aurelie had another twelve months in the barracks, the other Humans of the group were all working desk jobs, and so were preparing to sit their final examinations before graduating into the Bureau. Tensions were high: failing a single exam meant they would have to repeat the entire six months, and privately Aurelie wondered how a few of them had even gotten this far.

Outwardly, though, she sat with them as they studied, working through her own course material which included such riveting sections as ‘How To Handle Depressurisation Of The Space-Time Machine’ and ‘Proper Conduct When Travelling With Criminals’.

It was late in the evening that day, and the group returned back from what had been a terrible exam. Everyone was in a foul mood, and Aurelie judged it safest to just bury her head and try to avoid interacting. The others had another exam the next day, so rather than unwind they immediately returned back to the books.

After about an hour, Aurelie and a male called Julian both went to get water at the same time. On the way back, she felt hands at her waist in a move that, from afar, she would recognise as a harmless joke Humans played on each other all the time in the media. There are two very sensitive points, one on either side of the Humans waist, just above the hips, and Julian grabbed them.

Aurelie had never been joked with in this way. Looking back, she was sure he meant it in a friendly way, to get her to jump and perhaps lighten the mood. Julian had always been cordial, if not overly forthcoming. However, rather than remember this, or remember how Human jokes work, or anything else helpful, 18 years of living in a Displacement Home with 3000 immature individuals champing at each other’s throats kicked in.

Aurelie shrieked, spun on her heel, and smashed a fist straight into Julian’s nose.

Things were a blur after that. Some of the others cleaned him up and carried him down to medical; the others packed up their stuff and quickly left, citing reasons such as ‘I can’t be dealing with this right now’ and ‘why are you such a freak?’. Finally, it was just Aurelie and Cora.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Aurelie said, feeling helpless. To add salt to the wound, Julian was Cora’s closest friend. “He grabbed me, and I freaked out, and I just… reacted. I really didn’t mean to. Would an apology work? If I go and say I’m sorry, would that fix things?” Cora blinked, eyes a mix of disbelief and something that Aurelie couldn’t name, and slowly shook her head.

“My god. It’s like you don’t even know how to be Human.” With that Cora left too, leaving Aurelie alone in someone else’s room, smeared with someone else’s blood.

That evening she removed herself from the group chat, and the next day the other Humans sat their final exam. They graduated, left the barracks and disappeared into the depths of the Bureau. Aurelie completed her remaining year and graduated herself into a field work office, where she met Alvedo, DesUas and her other co-workers. That, she thought, would be the end of it.

But around two years later, Cora was assigned as a liaison to the field office, and Aurelie mastered the art of ducking into doorways, receiving calls on her screen, or just being incredibly busy with work when the other Human was around. Cora would smile awkwardly when they did accidentally make eye contact, and had once or twice even tried to initiate conversation, but Aurelie had absconded each time.

What was there left to say?

#

“That sucks,” said Alvedo once she finished, pulling a face. “I’m sorry.” Aurelie shrugged.

“I don’t want to hold it against her, because I’ve seen her in the office talking to other individuals, and she’s lovely. You can tell she’s lovely. I know she’s lovely. But I just can’t seem to let it go.”

“Have you really not spoken to her since?”

“Nope. Not once. I can’t imagine anything more awkward than sidling up to her and trying to have a conversation.”

“And she isn’t aware of your infatuation?” Alvedo took Aurelie’s glare as answer enough. “Maybe you should- I don’t know, maybe you should make the effort. Try talking to her again. Replace the negative memories with some positive ones.”

“Yeah, and what am I going to talk to her about?” It was Alvedo’s turn to shrug, and his reply was cut off by a sharp yelp from Aurelie. “Hey, ow! What are you doing?” Her attendant smiled sheepishly- she had finished Aurelie’s braid and was now doing some witchcraft on her feet that had felt amazing right up until it turned to agonising.

“Sorry, dear, I’m just removing some of these callouses. You’ll have lovely smooth feet when I’m done.”

“Smooth feet?” Aurelie replied, nonplussed. Was this some Human beauty ideal? “I earned those callouses.” The attendant tittered, seeming to think it was a joke, and Alvedo leaned over and swatted at her, a warning look in his eyes. “I mean, awesome, smooth feet. Thanks.” She looked back to Alvedo. “Can we stop talking about Cora? Please?” He hesitated and then nodded, and the conversation turned to idle office gossip.

After they were finished at the spa, Alvedo took her to a small, hole-in-wall Human restaurant that she’d never heard of before. He smiled and shrugged at her inquisitive look.

“It’s a bit expensive, and between the fact that DesUas either can’t eat or will be banned, and your renowned disdain for anything besides caffeinated beverage, I never saw a point mentioning it. But now that you say you’ve found your appetite…” Aurelie’s stomach took the opportunity to rumble loudly, and his face split into a grin. Without another word, he led her inside.

It was known to everyone that the way to tell if an eatery was authentic was to look at not the staff but the customers. It would be easy to hire a waitstaff composed completely of Chitinous Farers, but it meant nothing if other Chitinous Farers refused to eat there. This was true of Rhyzzians, Aredbynes, and any other heterotrophic races.

Aurelie had heard of this in theory but had never seen it in practice for Humans- the only Human food anyone knew was pasta, and since everyone loved pasta Human restaurants were always filled with all manner of races. Except- not this one. Looking around, she realised Alvedo was the only non-Human there. The tables were filled with groups of friends, individual Humans eating alone as they read the current events on their screens, family units with children bickering back and forth, and even a pair of pubescent Humans kissing over a table. She forced down a giggle at the sight, but her grin was wide enough to match Alvedo’s.

There was not a single pasta dish on the menu, anywhere, not even under the section labelled ‘House Favourites.’ Instead, it was filled with food she’d never heard of before, or had heard referenced in Human media but assumed to be long extinct.

“I’m going to have the chunky soup with sourdough bloomer and a pineapple bun for dessert,” announced Alvedo after barely skimming the menu. “What about you?”

“I want fruit. Lots of fruit. All different colours, like in the photos- do you think they have that? I… I don’t know what most of this is,” she admitted, the prickle of blush spreading. Alvedo nodded in understanding and picked his menu back up. They went through each item, with him explaining what everything was. She had known he was a foodie, that most of his disposable income went towards eating out and buying ingredients, but she was still surprised at the depth of his knowledge. Eventually she decided- a summer salad with pan seared seitan, a fruit smoothie to drink and pavlova for desert.

While they were waiting for their food, Aurelie looked herself over, appreciating the various touches of the spa. Her skin felt soft, her hair was pinned up tightly but not painfully, and the nails on her fingers were electric blue. She knew now how Cora always seemed to have different colours on her hands. She could also see the attraction of smooth feet, as she kicked off her shoes and admired them. The nails on her toes were painted dark brown, almost black, that complimented her lighter brown skin in a way she never would have expected. The attendant had certainly known what she was talking about.

Aurelie stretched, relaxed and smiled. This was nice; this was really, really nice. After everything that had happened, it had turned into a really good afternoon, and the food smells wafting from the kitchen were making her mouth water. She was surprised to realise she was happy.

Then the food came, and happy was upgraded to overjoyed.

“Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what I can do regarding desk duty and getting home,” she said, waving her fork at Alvedo, her words garbled by her very full mouth of food. “But right now, honestly- I don’t even want to think about work or Displacement Zero.” He grinned and laughed.

“Then don’t!”

#

When Aurelie got back to her apartment in the barracks that evening, she found she had no desire to clean, exercise, shower, or really do anything she was supposed to. Instead, all she really wanted to do was stretch out on the sofa with her screen and consume old Human media, something she hadn’t done since she was in the Displacement Home. Perhaps the hedonic salience principle was right, and she’d just never been happy enough to take advantage of it; that was a sobering thought.

After watching a few episodes of Human media dated 2831, Aurelie pushed herself to her feet and went to shower, mind returning to what Alvedo had said earlier. She certainly wasn’t enjoying the life she currently had now, not to the extent that she felt she could. Part of it was not really knowing how to go about changing things- how did she know what hobbies she wanted to start? How did one start to develop a sense of individuality? Probably by moving out of the barracks as a first step, but then what? Through home design? Clothing? Crafts?

Reaching the bathroom, she stopped as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The spa had worked wonders for her hands and feet, she already knew that, but she hadn’t bothered to see her face.

The difference wasn’t exaggerated or over the top, but the subtleness was why it seemed to work. Her skin seemed softer, smoother, healthier. Her eyelashes were darker, her eyebrows reshaped in a way that completely changed how they framed her face. Her long, curly hair was piled high on her head in a braid so intricate that she couldn’t figure out where it started and where it ended. A small flower had been painted in plant dye at the corner of one eye- the attendant told her it would last several weeks.

Aurelie grinned. The reflection grinned back, and Aurelie grinned wider. She looked happy. Damn it, Alvedo was right as always. Staring at herself, she realised that she knew exactly at what she needed to do, at least to start with. Foregoing the shower, Aurelie returned to her screen: she needed to order a notebook and an analogue writing stylus.