Hibour

      There was no peaceful rousing for Eppli. As the fog and amnesia of stasis faded, she first became aware of two UOSR spacers floating over her. The baseline humans prodded her face with a glowing sensor. “Oh, that eye movement looks deliberate,” said one. “Might just be a boot sequence” suggested the other. “She’s got some top of the line opticals, even for a bat. The higher end ones run with muscle implusors. Might be-“
      “I’m awake” she interjected stiffly. She tried to raise her hand to swat the instrument away, but her arm only partially moved. Her NIF supplied a prompt, warning her against sudden movements while her body cycled back to full cognition. By this point, the inhibitor was mostly flushed from her body, but the entire process of stasis was very uncommon for her. “Gats I… I feel like a statue.”
      “Yeah it’ll do that” said the crewmember with the instrument. He finally put the thing away and pushed off her cradle. “Thought you would be up a few hours ago. We were starting to get a little worried.” The other rummaged around near a machine outside the crew cabin and returned with a large bulb of water.
      “Yeah. I’d hate to think what kind of trouble we’d get in for giving a civilian passenger the wrong stasis dose.”
      “I gave it to myself” she croaked, shoving the bulb spout in her mouth and drinking greedily. She could feel the liquid run all the way down her throat. Her insides felt atrophied after weeks of disuse. Her NIF finished powering up, ran a quick update, then gave her some bodily diagnostics.
      “Everything seems… mostly fine” she wheezed. “There’s really nothing wrong with me. I just- does it always feel this bad?”
      The nearest crewmember shrugged. “No. Not after you go through it a few times. Once you’re used to it, the duration doesn’t even matter. You’ll feel the same either way. Maybe you should fly more?”
      Eppli groaned as she pushed herself up. This time her arms worked much better. Her muscles were sluggish, but coming around. In an effort to exercise her fingers, she fumbled with her waist buckle until it unlatched. “Huh…” she said ponderously. Even her voice was coming back now. “It was worse for a minute there, but I’m starting to feel better already.”
      “Good to hear” said the closest crewmember as his companion departed the cabin. “Now” he continued, “before you go floating off you should probably take that catheter out.”

—

      Eppli hated spaceflight. She had a full eight hours to reflect on that sentiment as the crew prepared their warcraft for rendezvous with the shuttle from Icthara orbital. It wasn’t merely the stasis drowsiness or her aching urethra. Despite an advanced vestibular sense and numerous genetic enhancements that were specifically designed to assist her in weightlessness, she was prone to space sickness. Rarely did it develop into anything active, but the discomfort sometimes stuck with her for days. Though she typically got over it after the first day, periods of stasis appeared to reset the process. Nausea accompanied her as she floated into the galley several hours after waking, looking for water. A third crewmember met her there, wearing a yellow, green and blue flightsuit. “We’ll be starting the burn in about thirty minutes. Want to watch from the flight deck? We could put you in the observer seat if you’re interested.”
      Eppli made a negative sign with her free hand. “I don’t think that would be wise… I need to be somewhere without obvious peripherals or else I’m just going to feel worse.” The baseline Rhean watched her curiously, either lost in thought or casting some sort of silent judgement. Eppli felt a spike of repulsion. 
      “What?” She said.
      “I didn’t think hypers could get space sickness,” the woman replied.
      Eppli turned her attention elsewhere, unwilling to show the crew her embarrassment. “You might be surprised… as far as I know, my kin are no less susceptible to motion sickness than you are.”
      The Rhean shrugged, apparently doubtful. After a small drink of water, Eppli returned to the cramped passenger cabin. The engines eventually kicked in and the warcraft rumbled for what felt like hours. Had they really expected her to sit on the flight deck for this long? Relief overcame her, for a moment, when the engines finally shut down and weightlessness returned to the cabin. Unfortunately, the dizziness and discomfort returned in short order. By the time she heard the shuttle clamping to the outer airlock, she was back into her normal state of misery.

—

      A few hours later, Eppli gripped her restraints as the shuttle rumbled with reaction control thrusters. A soft voice chimed through the cabin. “Flight crew please prepare for docking. Passengers, please ensure your harness is fastened and secure any remaining loose items.”
      The stewardess expertly clung to the central support spar that ran the length of the cabin. “Got all your things, sweetie?” She asked in Neo Bosti.
      “Everything I have is- is stowed” Eppli answered. The stewardess brought herself down a rung using only her feet. Turning over end, she pulled something out of the wall of the shuttle and gently pushed it into Eppli’s hand.
      It was a sick bag, complete with child-friendly instructions. The stewardess smiled apologetically. “Try to keep it in the bag, okay? Just helps with the cleanup.”
      Eppli made a negative hand gesture. “Oh no, I’m- I’m fine.”
      “It builds up sweetie. If it hasn’t come up yet… it probably will.” The stewardess pulled herself up a few rungs, positioning near the front of the cabin, about as far away as she could be. Eppli couldn’t be mad. She was the only passenger in a spacecraft built for 30. Her safety and well being was this woman’s only job at the moment. When she finally vomited a few minutes later, the stewardess simply smiled, replaced her bag, and returned to her post.

—

      Eppli floated through the weightless corridor, following signs and NIF guidance towards the arrivals terminal. The spaceport was completely empty. Every new corner brought another chamber full of old infrastructure, shuttered business and an utter dearth of travelers. Were it not for the occasional terminal sign with scrolling visitor information, she might have assumed she was in the wrong station. This place stank of conditioning chemicals, disinfectant, recycled oils, old oxygen recyclers, faint body odors and the odd mixing of multiple spacecraft atmospheres. 
      With uncoordinated ease, she pulled her luggage pack along and guided herself from railing to railing. The equilibrium app that her NIF was running was only mildly helpful. If she kept herself in the same orientation, she found that she could fly along with the heads-up display, making only minor corrections to best alleviate the nausea of weightlessness. However, if she let it get away from her or if she allowed the parameters of her orientation to stray too far from neutral, the corrections required were almost as nauseating as going without it. She could still feel the spare sick bag in her chest pocket.
      Finally, she arrived at the Albie corridor. With the decorations and accouterments of a grand atrium, the Albie corridor acted as the gateway between the spaceport and the cylinder that comprised this half of the orbital. The two opposing halves of the tube-like chamber appeared to turn in opposite directions with an obvious seal bisecting the room. To Eppli’s sensitive nose, the many oils and lubricants of the baleen seals were most prominent in the air. Behind the seal and beyond her view, tremendous currents of water provided a cushion that allowed the two halves of the rotating facility to smoothly glide against each other, free of friction. A normal orbital might decorate this critical joint with water-related theming. Aquatics and transparent piping were common. Eppli favored an Albie Corridor on Termini Social that had an infinity pane waterfall. Arriving at Termini always felt like rising out of an aquatic cavern for that reason.
      Icthara was different. Icthara was old and clearly hadn’t seen a tourist in decades. This Albie Corridor was blank, save for some weightless vegetation that the automated systems were still keeping alive. Many had overgrown their plots, fanning out into the corridor by a meter or two. The Albie seal itself, the warm lattice of over-meshing fibers, showed evidence of discoloration around the rims. Traces of water had leaked out over the years, staining the light surfaces on either side of the seal. Around the chamber perimeter, several lights were out. Eppli’s NIF tossed up a notification. Apparently, there was only one functioning somnoptic projector in here. If there had been a crowd of visitors moving into the terminal, they would have been jockeying for bandwidth.
      Beyond the Albie chamber, she entered a radial elevator corridor and climbed into one of the working pods. The elevator was old, but better maintained. Someone had recently reinstalled the user interfacing and the warning placards had been cleaned. She rode the pod halfway down the orbital endcap, then into customs and immigration. 
      Though the toroidal facility had been designed for thousands of passengers a day, Eppli found the place just as empty as the concourse above. There were fenced off spaces where offices and businesses might have stood. Large portions of the corridor were powered off. More automated flora spilled from their planters. Down here in the half gravity, the plants favored the bases of the walls and the bottoms of pillars. It was clear that the staff had to trim these ones to keep the walking space open. Eppli had hardly observed all of this when she felt a ping in her NIF. The Space Security Guild was pulling her immigration information and she was remotely directed towards the one remaining customs station on this level.
      The small, open-air office was the only source of light in this section of the corridor. Here, a woman in a Guild uniform sat behind a desk, silently sequencing her way through some somnoptic displays that she didn’t bother to hide. Even from a distance, Eppli could recognize the dollie. She had the strawberry hair, colorful under eye patches and featureless black eyes unique to the genome.
      “There you are” she squeaked before flashing a toothy smile. The vampiric paleness of her skin seemed to glare in the office light, but it still glinted with a pearlescent luminance at the edge of every shadow. She gave off the illusion of being very colorful, despite seeming corpselike. “I was just looking through your documents! Been a week or two since I last processed someone!” She brought up more windows, including one that had Eppli’s official travel pass. “Not a lot of bats out here….” She mused, scrutinizing the documents. Eppli could still feel her presence in her NIF, perusing not only her flight history, but also her electronic history prior to boarding the spacecraft.
“Hmmm” the female dollie hummed. “A business trip or a contractual visit?”
      Eppli thought for a moment. It wasn’t entirely accurate to classify this trip as contractual considering she had come to fulfill her own research. But the program was necessitated by the Department of Conservation and Bioethics. “Uh… call it business,” she said.
      Again the guild agent hummed. “I see. And the United Orbital Sphere of Rhea was eager to provide passage to a business class passenger? The manifest provided by the crew lists only a foreign national of government employment.”
      “Well, that’s not inaccurate,” Eppli confirmed. “I’m an ecologist for the Kuiper Alliance Department of Conservation and Bioethics and I’m not a citizen of the United Orbital Sphere of Rhea.”
      “So you’re contracted with the DCB” the transhuman guilder smiled. “And therefore on contract work?”
      Eppli shifted her weight in the half gravity. It was becoming difficult to hide her irritation. “Does it really matter?”
      “Considerably! If I log you as a business traveler, you will be limited to a maximum of 6 days in Icthara and you will require direct supervision beyond public centers. After that elapsed period, you will be confined to the spaceport facilities until additional visas can be obtained. However, if I process you as a contract worker, you will be permitted to stay for a period determined by your original contract, subject to addendums provided by the contract agency and the Space Security Guild. Additionally, you will receive a work certification that will permit you to work without direct supervision within the orbital.” Again she smiled. She was almost teasing in her mannerisms.
      “Fine,” Eppli said, resigned. “But I don’t have a specific contract for-“
      “Your grant contract will suffice, doctor Eppli. Determination for the eligibility of research, for which you are granted funding for a period of five years….” She silently tallied some dates on one of her screens. “Your contract visa is good for 541 days.” As if to make her point, Eppli felt an electronic ping in her NIF as a new certification was uploaded.
      “That’s… great ma’am. Do you create that work certification or…?”
      The guilder chuckled to herself. “Oh no. Absolutely not. I’ve created the template and stored it on your visa, but that’s for the orbital governance to enforce. Whatever agency you check in with down there… they should be the ones to submit the certification. Ideally there should be some sort of… training or familiarization prior to receiving it. The idea is that you won’t kill yourself or break anything in the orbital if you have this training.”
      Eppli nodded with only mild comprehension of the process. “Whatever agency… of course. Do you frequent the interior?”
      “The interior of Icthara? Very rarely. And when I do it’s normally just down to the cap base for some gravity. Not much else to visit really!” She smiled again, wearing a thin look of gratitude that Eppli was already beginning to hate. “I imagine an ecologist might venture a little deeper into the interior.”
      “I certainly hope to” she sighed. Her NIF finally gave her a positive response as she was cleared through immigration and customs. The Dollie guild agent stood carefully, leaving the floor very briefly in the half gravity. She bowed at her desk. “It’s been a pleasure doctor… please proceed to the next set of elevators and enjoy your time on Icthara.”
      “Alright. I’ll do my best” she said nonchalantly, then proceeded on, happy to be free from the peppy bureaucrat. 
      The next set of elevators were more robust. Wider and more lumbering, the pod crawled its way downward. Gravity increased during the descent until she felt the familiar weight of full gravity on her limbs. The pod creaked and groaned slightly as it neared the base, then came to a stop. The terminal beyond the elevator door would have been just as unremarkable as the previous ones had it not been for the tremendous windows on the interior-facing wall. Like most of the previous ones, this room was devoid of people. Eppli felt no remorse walking up to the window to take a child-like gaze upon this mysterious realm.
      From here at the base of the endcap, she could gaze down the length of the great cylindrical interior. The 40-kilometer world stretched into the distance. The opposite end cap wasn’t visible beyond the mists and clouds. The overhead sunlamp and bracing structures simply extended into nothingness, becoming dimmer and dimmer with distance. The landscape that curved up from her left and right was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Smooth, rolling arctic, pocked by jagged rocks and weather worn hills extended a few kilometers from the end cap. Beyond that she could see glacial ice built up against the shore line of a dark, misty sea. Distant icebergs punctuated the dark waters, some of which were so large they could be islands in their own right. The arctic wilds were completely lacking in developed land, save for a single, small settlement.
      Eppli peered over the edge of the window, looking down the rocky slope towards the village. Made up of some two dozen buildings, it was difficult to imagine more than a hundred people living there. Even from here, she could make out some animal pens, vehicle yards, operations equipment and dozens of tenant structures with glowing signs and windows. A distant truck snaked between the hills, motoring towards the village. Beyond this tiny settlement there was nothing, just wilderness as far as the eye could see, curving upwards and overhead to the north and south where a sweeping fog of Coriolis weather was making its way around the orbital.
      Eppli checked her log. She had a certificate for lodging and a few named contacts, but her arrival instructions were remarkably bleak. There was no file on her lodging establishment and beyond a name, there was no information at all on her field site. The location was called Brinelox and she imagined she would get more information once she met her local contact. With trepidation, she stepped out of the elevator terminal and felt the atmosphere of Icthara.
      The cold bit her before the doors were fully opened. Her nose quivered with the scent of sea salt, brine, recirculated water, faint vehicle fumes and animal aromas. More than anything she could smell the overwhelming aura of organic decay, common to every orbital but especially so on a wild sanctuary like Icthara. Eppli gripped her arms tightly and stepped back. Her NIF flagged a temperature hazard over her vision, stating that the uncalibrated ambient temperature was -5 degrees Celsius. The ecologist snarled. Both her flightsuit and jacket were inadequate. She moved back into the terminal and unpacked her thermal coat and leggings. Her footwear would have to do for now, but she hoped she would find something appropriate for the terrain she was likely to cross. Steeling herself, she stepped back out into the brisk arctic air and began the unpaved descent towards the village.
      It would have been easy going if she didn’t have her luggage. The carrier was suited for wear in low gravity environments and had wheels for use within orbitals, but the road to town was loose gravel beneath packed snow. The bag was too heavy to carry for more than a few moments at a time and Eppli soon found herself frustrated. By the time she arrived at the first set of buildings, she was exhausted.
      The town of Aelvissik was all insulated metal structures half buried in thawless snow drifts. The settlement was tightly packed, the thoroughfares between buildings were worn like frozen rivers. Track mats were rolled along the thin alleys that separated adjacent structures, some permanently embedded in the ice. In other places, the snow mixed with fine gravel to make a fine, frozen slop that provided traction. The buildings themselves were mostly two stories, strewn with tangles of power wires and heating systems. The neon signs were prominent now, each glowing within an incandescent cloud of flurries. She walked by a grocer with somnoptic projections of tropical fruits and dry tubers, though all she could smell was sage algae wafting on the wind. Nearby was a general store, half obscured behind stacks of frozen crates that lined the perimeter of the building. On the floor above it was a marshal office, complete with a bridgeway to the two-story administration center adjacent to it.
      A community center marked the middle of town, immediately next to a power conduit from which all the cables originated. Eppli imagined this tap running all the way to the orbital’s fusion reactor. Orbitals like this typically had huge powerplants, capable of sustaining millions of people within internal megacities. Yet this frontier settlement, as best she could tell, was the only mark of civilization for kilometers. She came to stand beneath the conduit and the jungle of cables that branched from it like a forest canopy. She did her best to ignore the electric humming that emanated from the conduit as she scanned the intersecting streets. 
      Dozens of people were coming and going as night descended on Icthara. The neon glow of the signs around her grew vivid and intense as the flurries grew into snowflakes. Eppli queried the local network multiple times, looking for lodging, finding only dead-end search algorithms and old network addresses to nowhere. Eppli was lost in a town smaller than the spaceport she arrived in. She shivered in place and rubbed her exposed ears. The tapered tips of her lobes were completely numb.
      “There’s our ecologist!” Said someone behind her. Eppli jumped a little, completely unaware of her company. Spinning around, her eyes highlighted a heavy-set melkine in a thick coat. The scarlet hue of his skin stood vividly against the white of the snow surrounding them. He stood a head shorter than her, not accounting for the wooly hat draped his white curls. He was smiling, despite the cold. Eppli couldn't help but notice the set of thick, sock-like covers protecting the long tips of his ears. He pinged her NIF and she was fed a series of credentials.
      “Carvi Misk. Haaviq Aqui Laboratory” he grinned, holding out a hand. She shook it hesitantly, her glove too thick to really feel his grip.
      “Eppli Lemont Si” she replied, unable to keep the cold out of her voice. “I’m assuming you’re the laboratory representative who is going to process my work certification?”
      Carvi gave her a quizzical look. “Uuh… I suppose so? This is for your visa?” She felt him ping her Visa. “Ah- yes, I will make something up. Later, of course. Let me take you to your lodging… you are losing so much heat through those ears of yours! I will find you a hat, you silly bat.”
      The hood of Eppli’s nose twitched with irritation. “I was expecting cold… but are these conditions typical for Icthara?”
      “It is springtime cycle now” Carvi laughed. He turned on his ice boot and started walking towards the north. “It will be warmer come summertime, but at night it will always be near to freezing. In wintertime…” he chuckled, letting the thought hang as they made their way up the street, a mild grin on his face. “There really isn’t much activity out here in the wintertime.”
      “I’m sure” Eppli huffed, her nostril hood flaring with effort, as she turned her luggage around to follow him. “Does everyone here in… in Aelvissik migrate off orbital for the winter? It’s hardly bearable as it is.”
      “Oh on the contrary” Carvi chuckled. “Aelvi gets more crowded in the winter. All the out bases bring their people back in. The snowfields to the north and south of town fill with temp shelters and tents and most of the permanent party rides out the season.”
      A tinge of worry struck Eppli. It was cold enough already, but on behalf of the governing body of Icthara, the Guild had approved her Visa for over 500 days. Assuming Icthara, like many orbitals, simulated a Terran seasonal cycle, it was entirely likely that she might not finish her research before the winter, thereby confining herself to living in winterproof tents and sheds, a fate only narrowly better than spaceflight. “Sounds miserable,” she muttered.
      “It’s not so bad really” Cavi continued, stepping between idling, tracked vehicles, leaving Eppli to drag her luggage around. 
      “Compared to winter camping, you’ll be living in the lap of luxury. As soon as I heard we had an ecologist coming to visit, I made sure to set aside our most comfortable accommodations. Of course, you’ll only be staying here between shifts at the lab.”
      “I was hoping to get to work right away” Eppli stated. “A quick nap perhaps, then you can show me where I will be working. Is the ocean far?”
      “The ocean? Not far” He said, turning the next corner. “But Haaviq Aqui Lab is quite far. Many hours… You should take more than a nap after coming all this way. I’ll have the boat ready tomorrow afternoon.”
      Before Eppli could ask about the boat, she turned the corner to find that they were nearly on the edge of town. All that lay before them was a perpendicular trench of vehicle-worn snow, beyond which was a yard of half-assembled vehicles, a greenhouse of sorts and a snowy expanse of wilderness that faded into the distant fog. Carvi had turned right and now stood in front of a two-story metal structure with a bright blue somnoptic sign in front. In bold Neo-bosti it read Rest House, the Angli-continental subtext simply said Comforts. Carvi smiled and pulled his ear-coverings off, allowing his pointy red ears to spring free. “It’s warmer inside” he insisted, then slid the door open.
      Eppli was immediately met by warmth. She became aware of just how numb her extremities were. Her luggage tracked wet snow onto the entry mat and she stamped her fingered boots to free up the slush caked to her feet. Only then did her sensitive nose accept the smell of smoke, cooking oils, lush perfumes, cleaning chemicals and disinfectants, baking proteins, sugar, fabric softeners, organic humidifiers and flowers. 
      Eppli’s eyes adjusted to the colorful interior. She was in a lobby with a small front desk, a nook with a modest couch and end tables. Several decorative hydroponics trickled in the corners, smelling modestly of scented water.
      A very attractive dolle female and a gorgeous melkine male were lounging on the couch, each with tea in hand. Both were staring at Eppli as though she had just interrupted a conversation. The woman’s glass was halfway between the end table and her lips.
      “Braiva, Tarric, got our new tenant here. This is Eppli…” Carvi said as he turned his hand in the air.
      “Eppli Lemont Si” she corrected, holding her hand out. Already she could tell her social batteries weren’t quite ready for these eccentric looking people.
      “Lemont Si?” Asked the melkine with interest. “Mmm. You’re comale then? Or do I have that backwards?”
      Eppli felt herself turning red. Her face felt hot under the scrutiny of these beautiful people. “Comale…” she replied quietly.
      “Hands to yourself Terric” said the dolle. The woman slid from the couch and stood on long, toned legs, wearing a glistening photoprojecting gown that was somewhat inadequate in size. She gently grasped the tips of Eppli’s fingers for the smallest of handshakes. “Braiva” she said in a flirtatious manner. “Welcome to lodging, doctor… I am sure you will be quite comfortable here.” With her other hand she interfaced with a projection that Eppli couldn’t see. A new door certificate uploaded to her NIF, presumably the one for whatever room she would be staying in. 
      “Thank you Braiva” said Eppli. 
      The dolle woman offered a slight bow of acknowledgement. “You will find your room on the second floor… just at the top of the stairs. You will find a manual temperature gauge above the desk. Community bathing is at the end of the hall… but I advise all my clients that it is a bathing room, not a soaking room… and certainly not a room for fun. If you happen to see anything inappropriate in there, please notify me at once.” She smiled, revealing fused, synthetic teeth that approximated a predatory visage. Eppli wasn’t fazed. Her own teeth were far more capable.
      “Like I said, top of the line accommodations” said Carvi, hefting the collar of his coat and smiling confidently. “Braiva’s got you taken care of."
      Carvi finally helped her by carrying her bag upstairs. The deeper into the structure they went, the more Eppli’s sensitive nose was assaulted. The perfumes were thicker. Bioengineered flowers managed to compete with one another, releasing slightly different aromas depending on whether she or Carvi were closer to them. She could smell sex and sweat, medicines and old fabric. The faint smell of waste hit her from one pipe running along the corner of a hallway.
      Her room was only slightly bigger than the average spacecraft cabin, large enough for a double bed with extra blankets. A small desk with a folding chair, a single end table made of artificial wood, a closet-like door to a very small bathroom and sink and of course a closet for winter gear. It was a challenge to even find space for her travel case. “I’m going to need a thicker coat” she sighed as she opened the case on the bed.
Carvi nodded in the doorway. “I’ll find you a spare. Some ear gloves too! And uh….” He looked down at her feet. Eppli had already removed her fingerboots, exposing her socks with their four long toes, each equivalent to a thumb and just as dexterous. “Ah. That might be trickier. We have some Kelsidons around here… but their feet are a little different, aren’t they?”
      Eppli scratched behind her ear awkwardly. “Kelsidons have four toes and opposable thumbs on their feet. Like Earth primates. It comes up from time to time. I will not fit in Kelsidon footwear.”
      Carvi thought that over, holding his chin as his eyes scanned some unseen somnoptic interface. “Well… I’ll look around. You can’t be the first bat to visit. I could have the crafts shop sew something together if all else fails. What are your sizes?”
      Eppli regarded him with a suspicious eye. He shrugged. I can guess, but you’re going to want gear that fits out there, doctor.”
Eppli reluctantly allowed him to access her bodily metrics. His electronic signature pinged only her body measurements, then he was out. He nodded in acknowledgement and smiled. “Perfect. I’ll see what I can find. In the meantime, get some sleep, some hot food and meet me tomorrow morning in the lobby at… oh, lets say 0730. I’ll have a pack for you… so bring everything you need for the lab.”
      The door clacked shut as the metal latch engaged. Sanctuary at last. Eppli sat on the bed and swallowed, tasting the slightest hint of bile from the earlier shuttle ride. It didn’t matter. At least she was here, in full gravity and on assignment for the foreseeable future. No spaceflight, no department managers to worry about and almost no deadlines. Her work was her own… as far as the Department of Conservation and Bioethics were concerned.
Eppli blinked five times in five seconds. Her NIF made a mysterious ping of her surroundings. Somnoptic text scrolled across her vision.

      Miss Iridi is a fine traveler

      For a moment she studied the phrase, then raised her left hand. With her glove off, she held up her pale bluish fingers to the light. Like most of her kind, her fingers were slender and just barely longer than that of a baseline human. Her fingernails tapered slightly into a dull point. In her kin, they were made of the same nanoscopic fibers that her bones were made of, just a slightly different composition and weave.
      Hers were not. She carefully plucked the nail off her left ring finger and set it on the small desk. The fingernail disintegrated into a pile of fine particulates. Her NIF defaulted to safe mode and she felt some very strange software shielding off large parts of her neural storage. A shiver went up her spine as her vision flickered, then resumed.
      The dust on her desk was flowing freely, forming tiny shapes along the flat surface as it heated up. Eppli watched carefully, keeping one foot against the bottom of the door, as the shapes slowly morphed into letters. After only a few seconds, she was able to read the Neo-bosti words they formed.

      Signal received. Proceed with caution. Do not inform locals.