“When I moved to deal with taking over Paradise Installation Sixty Three, it was almost as if it had never been liberated. The population continued to work in a haze, doing their pointless daily salutations towards the Paradise flag, and working for eighteen hour shifts for overseers we had long since killed. We expected to either be seen as monsters for conquering their home or heroes for saving them from the tyranny of their masters. Instead, they barely even seemed to register they were now part of Heaven’s Doctrine. I mean, for the love of the Jade Emperor, one of them had an arm blown off during our invasion, and he just tottered towards the cargo trucks for loading as he bled to death, bag of circuit boards still gripped in his other hand. The Doctrine might make warriors of the mighty and slaves of the weak, but Paradise makes husks of all men. That much I can say for certain.” – Bloodbriar, Reclamation Duke for the Lucky Roulette clan, 2223. Report of a colony seized from Paradise as part of the Eternal War.

  Burning Scribe Chel-Lin left the laboratory as night swept over Kral-Thul. It hadn’t been long since the human she had been painfully linked to by bureaucracy had left, but the instant relief of his departure left her weak. Her respite from human interaction was cut far too short by the arrival of the ape’s bodyguard, a man of solid build and a hard face. When Chel-Lin could not assist Kurt with his desperate search for his client, he took off with a run back the way he came. She was uncertain as to why the irritating fool she worked with needed the protection of Mr Howland, but quickly found herself coming back to some reoccurring answers. Humanity, in almost all aspects, was flawed. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, they were stunted. The fact that the parasite of a researcher needed someone else to protect him only furthered that image of imperfection.

  And yet, she couldn’t help but glide over to his side of the laboratory the second Kurt sprinted away, swearing to himself all the while. What was it Savage so desperately needed her to avoid looking into that he had resorted to bargaining? Was it to throw her off, to put pressure on her?

  Not likely. The human had stayed true to his agreement ever since, barely looking her way and remaining as silent as the void. Her immediate thoughts were that he was taking extra measures for work that the Baraldian Heralds would not agree with. Chel-Lin had been suspicious of the whole Interspecies Galactic Symposium ever since she had departed Urestior, but her mind had recently moved to darker, more worrying places. The first thought that had struck her was that Savage had been planning on creating weaponry against the Tylas using their own technology. Such an idea would have been the most corrupt, unethical path she could think of, but think of it she did.

  To uncover his plans, she moved to his usual spot by the electronic board, still covered in notes, and found a well-used paper notebook. His initial notes seemed to detail designs for a new manipulator harness for all three sapient species to use. A somewhat useful, but overall dull idea that would fit Lucian’s desires perfectly. For what she had read on Savage’s past work and the lengths he went to for breaking the mold of preexisting research, it was an uncharacteristic move. Such a bland idea would drive the fool mad, or more madder than he already was, based on his previous behaviour.

  No, based on the notes she flipped through, the harness was clearly part of a project he had not put his full effort into. There was something else suspicious going on, and it needed to be investigated. Instead, she went to a separate resource. It was one she had hoped to avoid using, but one she needed to check with before anything else.

  “EXCALIBUR, can you hear me?” Chel-Lin said aloud.

  Barely a moment passed before a series of electronic synth tones filled the laboratory.

  “Ah, Dr Daksira, it is good to hear from you!” the artificial intelligence said aloud. “I’ve been waiting for you or Dr Savage to give me a buzz. How can I help you today?”

  She felt the urge to try and correct the computer about her proper Tylas title, but conceded to herself that the sooner she became comfortable with the human terms, the easier it would be to integrate and work with the others, if needed. After all, ‘Doctor’ didn’t sound too bad. Doctor Daksira. Hmm.

  “Apologies for the interruption, but can you let me know what sort of information Dr Savage has been retrieving from the Nucleus server? Anything under the field of Heraldian technology?”

  “Huh, well…” The computer seemed to trail off. The way it spoke and acted was closer to that of a human than any mechanical device, an aspect that concerned Chel-Lin. Yet, she would need to talk to the machine if she wanted any chance of uncovering Savage’s secrets.

  “Is there a problem, EXCALIBUR?” Chel-Lin asked.

  “Ah, no! Not problem. Just… I don’t mean to be rude, but can’t you just ask Savage? The two of you share the space. I also have his comm device number here if you haven’t exchanged them yet if you want to give him a call.”

  “That won’t be necessary. He… he asked me to help look into some of his early data whilst he was out, and I don’t wish to disturb him. Since we are lab partners, after all.”

  “Oh, that makes sense! Sorry, just a moment.”

  A series of deep beeps rang out as Chel-Lin checked that her Jhil-San-Quor received the data. A success! With a few precise pressure point inputted, she let the device hover in the air as it displayed its holographic screen. Flicking through the received data, she saw a simplified history of the topics the primitive had downloaded over the last few days. That would be enough to start checking for illicit materials.

  “Thank you, EXCALIBUR.”

  “No problem, Chel-Lin. Oh, oops, can I call you that? Sorry, I seem to have trouble with etiquette for names nowadays.”

  Nowadays? That was odd. Chel-Lin was under the impression the machine had apparently only been created shortly before it left the human capital of Titanlock. Maybe there was more to the device than it seemed. Still, the AI’s cheerful nature was a pleasant surprise after being stuck with the frustrating ape constantly. Maybe she should spend more time talking to it to make up for her own isolation away from her people.

  “That is fine with me,” Chel-Lin said. “Anything else?”

  “Oh, just one thing – can you call me EXCAL? Everyone uses the full name GaltCorp and Tripwire gave me and it feels kinda strange. Honestly, it makes me feel like a kid about to get scolded by parent, middle name and all.”

  “Hmm. I see. That is fine with me… EXCAL.” Chel-Lin attempted to hide the hesitance in her voice. The computer was very different from her initial expectations of a machine given a mind. Perhaps there was an afterimage, or a ghost of sorts, lingering from its creators within its layers of silica and steel? After all, she knew very little about how the human mind worked without a gaseous medium to hold its soul. Chel-Lin gave a nod and began to turn away from where she thought the seemingly ubiquitous voice originated before she snapped back.

  “Oh, EXCAL, before you go, I wanted to ask something else,” she said.

  “Fire away, Doct- Aw dang it.”

  “Oh, are you ok?”

  Chel-Lin heard nothing for a second before the voice spoke out once more.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing. Just going dry on a drop. Go ahead.”

  Going dry? Did this machine need to wash itself?

  “Right,” Chel-Lin said. “I mean to ask – are you always watching and listening to us? Everyone in Nucleus Two?”

  “As part of my privacy rulesets, as set up by Dr Rannos, I am not. If you call me out, then I’ll be able to talk in less than twenty-seven milliseconds. I can look back at archived camera footage, but I’m not really ‘aware’ per se. Until then, I only have conscious access to certain areas of the wing.”

  “I see. Thank you for your assistance EXCAL. Take care.”

  “Good night, Chel-Lin.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  As the speakers died off, Chel-Lin recognized how late the time was. It was relieving to hear she was not being actively spied on at all times, though that was relying on the machine telling the truth. A worry for another day. Turning the laboratory lights off, she left for her personal quarters. Though Tylas did not need to sleep, another limitation of biology that the other species was limited by, her people still needed to enter a state of meditation to mentally refresh themselves. The long hours in the laboratory were taking their toll, especially with what she had planned.

  She was simultaneously working on both a simple project she planned to present for the IGS, as well as another plan still lingering at the back of her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, there was the urge to do something ambitious, something that Barald would be proud of. No, that was a lie to herself – it was something she wanted to be proud of. As to what exactly she wanted to do… that was undecided.

  And yet, the mere fact she was entertaining the rebellious idea was also shameful to her. She had promised herself that she would do what was necessary for the IGS to succeed. If that took stifling her work for a few months, then so be it. Yet, even as she was plagued by Savage’s incessant taunts and probes, she couldn’t help but think on the possibilities. As much as she thought on Tylas technology surpassing all others, she was enraptured the very second she had heard of the Schr?dinger-Drive some years before.

  Tylas faster than light travel had been a development long in the making. Before the split of the species into the two nations that became the Baraldian Heralds and the Fualic Composers, they had been stuck on their homeworld of Kraesa for millennia. Their species, unable to leave the homeworld long past their initial dreams of interstellar travel, had finally achieved the impossible. Through the usage of highly limited exotic materials, they had developed the Altered Reality Bubble Field, a physics-defying region of space that allowed their vessels to move at speeds far beyond those of light.

  And yet, despite Bubble Field’s many years of development, it would appear that humanity had blinked past their long fought efforts to create a mostly superior device in a mere fraction of the time. Not only that, but it had a longer range, worked near instantly, and was highly energy efficient. Before the Symposium, Chel-Lin knew she had to get her hands on the secrets of the Schr?dinger-Drive.

  Passing through the dim hallways of Nucleus Two, silence flattening the world around her, she found herself at the door to her room. Chel-Lin had left the laboratory with waving enthusiasm, planning to continue her work and inspection of Savage’s studies once back in private. Yet, standing at the wooden barrier to her safe haven, she found all her energy had been sapped. Perhaps meditation first, then work. Just five minutes, that would be nice.

  Entering her room and locking the door behind her, she took in the environment. Chel-Lin had refused to contribute to the Tylas standard of unnecessarily elaborate interior design, in spite of how often others pointed out their opinions on the matter. For someone of her standing in society, the lack of features like glass sculptures carved with the most intricate of details, the absence of the unnecessary amounts of clothing rails for her adornments, and the dearth of any displayed awards were hard to believe. She was sure that her furnishings and aesthetics may have been considered luxurious to a human, but for a Tylas of Burning status? She was living in abject poverty. One praise she had to give humans were the fact they expressed most of their pride in person, as opposed to bottling it up to spread across their homes. Usually – she had seen photos of some human mansions filled with surprisingly Tylasian-styled decorations. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

  No. That was a very dangerous thought.

  Despite her dismissal of unneeded furniture, she still found herself showing off what was truly important to her. The energy storage station she had personally designed, an efficient model with personalized handles for her appendages to grasp, sat in the corner, its shape almost a reflection of the device used for Kel-Hraz-Sha in her prayers. The mediation dune, a small mountain of pillows and other soft materials, was large enough to spread out comfortably on. And, most importantly, her private computer for research at home was fitted with all the hardware and software she would need for catching up on lab work outside of normal hours. She had installed some human programs out of interest, mostly entertainment, to see if she would be able to beat her worthless use of space of a lab partner in any of them. The racing game she had previously sworn off had taken her interest the night before. Was that a sin to indulge in alien material? She justified her attraction towards the primitive graphics and audio, the cheering from a virtual crowd as she sped across the finish line on a hovering bike of sorts, as a way of performing recon on her people’s newest guests. Yes, just recon.

  It was all she wanted for a home, and it was all she needed. For now. Seeing the varied human and Cambiar environments did inspire some envy for the cheap yet comforting furniture they often sported. They had more seating fixtures, something she initially attributed to their lazy nature before recognising their role as part of their social activities. Where a Tylas could float for hours without pause, the desire for humans to relax put them in the perfect position to converse. And when Chel-Lin saw the

  exorbitant amounts of effort put into their cooking areas, all for the preparation of biomatter they would consume in mere minutes, she had been sceptical. That was until she saw the expressions of enjoyment that she realized there could be more to sustenance than mere fuel. It was these questions she came across during her preliminary analysis of human nature that cracked the dam of questions she not yet considered about her own people. Why was it that the Tylas, so happy to exalt their efforts and position in society, did not keep photographs of themselves or family as humanity did? Why was the concept of spending time with one’s family, purely for the sake of enjoying their company, such a foreign concept to her? It was this line of thought that demonstrated the largest disconnect between the Tylas and humanity; Barald’s grief, even the Cambiar had learnt of these things:

  Family. Friends. Trusted ones. Loved ones.

  These were not words she used often. The words ‘offspring’ and ‘sire’ and ‘family connection’ were far more common in her memories. She was a Daksira. That was where the line between her and her father ended. As for her mother? No memories of a bright face looking down upon Chel-Lin as an infant or cheers as she graduated from her learning centre came to mind. Indeed, she had never met the woman. In Chel-Lin’s rational mind, they bore no bond beyond the minimal effort she had once put into birthing her before leaving the responsibility of her rearing to Kar-Trine. Nevertheless, there was a yearning inside of her to meet her mother, the proud woman who she had only seen from videos and photos. She had hoped, year after year, that they would meet, that her mother would finally come to acknowledge Chel-Lin as her own blood. Maybe, once the IGS was concluded, that dream would become reality. A spark of light made true.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a ringing at the door. Puzzled by the hail at such a late hour, Chel-Lin moved to the door and deactivated the lock. For moment, she reflexively coiled her mantle at the idea of that stupid, ingrate of a chimp standing with his hunched posture waiting beyond the door. Was it fear she felt, anger, or some other strange feeling that had intertwined her mind since meeting him that gave her pause.

  Instead, a female voice called out.

  “Hello, Dr Daksira! It’s me, Madison.”

  Dr Dallas? What was she doing there? She hadn’t seen her since the orientation meeting, shortly after the lady had disappeared into her laboratory. Chel-Lin approached the door and cautiously opened it. Madison stood on the other side, stepping back at the sight of Chel-Lin’s hovering form with a small ‘eek’. She still had her neatly presented clothes on, not a crease in sight. Yet, as she smiled, itching her prominent nose for a second, Chel-Lin noticed a coffee stain on the sleave of her inner cardigan. Had she been clumsy… or had she been deprived the sleep humans needed? A closer look at her eyes showed a clear tiredness, her gaze hazy. Barald’s wrath, had the woman not slept since the orientation?

  “How can I help you, Dr Dallas? Is something the matter?” Chel-Lin hadn’t intended to sound concerned, but the sight was certainly alarming.

  “No, not a problem. But I did have something to ask you. It won’t take long, promise!”

  “By all means, come inside. I have plenty of space, but not a lot of furniture I’m afraid.” Before Chel-Lin could back away from the suite’s opening, Madison raised a hand.

  “That won’t be necessary. I, uh, just wanted to invite you to a small leisure expedition into Birkdale’s Gate. Lucian was talking all about that ‘interspecies-connectivity’ stuff, and it got me thinking. That, and we’re still early on. No need to rush into the real meat of our work just yet! I’ve been taking it easy so far.”

  The light jittering of the woman’s hand as she gestured about showed that was clearly a lie. Chel-Lin may not have been a human, but even she knew that good sleep was needed for proper work. Still, the idea of the trip to the human settlement. It initially provoked concern towards entering such a place fully dominated by other species, something she had never experienced before. That worry was quickly washed away by curiosity. That, and she had already spent the past few days working with, an admittedly small number, of humans and none of them had been a cause for concern. Aside from one, very annoying one in particular, but Savage was an outlier.

  “I would be honoured, Dr Dallas. Thank you.”

  The scientist excitedly clapped and squealed, a sound that almost resembled the babbling of an infant Tylas before proper language had been taught. The unexpected joy took Chel-Lin’s back for a moment.

  “Great! That’s fantastic! I’ll shoot you the details. Thank you Chel-Lin – or would you prefer Dr Daksira? Or wait, was it Scribe? Firey Scribe? Combustible Scribe?” She spoke in a pure stream of consciousness, one thought blending into the next.

  “It’s Burning Scribe, but don’t worry about that. Feel free to call me Doctor Daksira… or Chel-Lin if you wish. Regardless, I will await the trip with great excitement.” Chel-Lin bowed. “Oh, and Dr Dallas? Please get some sleep.”

  Chel-Lin motioned to the coffee mark. She closed the door on an embarrassed looking Madison paling as she looked down at a stained sleeve. It was once the locks resealed and Che-Lin moved to her meditation pillows that what she had agreed to fully sunk in. She must have been tired herself if she agreed to such an excursion with so little thought. A small city filled to the brim with humans? The idea was, frankly, unthinkable.

  And yet, as she descended to her mound of cushions, the notion brought on an undeniable feeling of anticipation. Maybe, if nothing else, seeing how humans lived could help shed some light on the motives behind a certain ape’s attitude.